"Of course," cried Kalman; "but I can't understand why bark should cure me when I have the fever from stuffing myself with cake or cabbage?"
"I don't see how you should understand it," said the surgeon, with a smile of conscious superiority. "You are ignorant of the science of medicine. But, on my word and honour, it's the simplest thing in nature! Bark has got a certain secret power against the fever; nothing more natural than this. God has made bark for us to cure the fever with."
"But why did not God, when he created sausages and cabbages in this country, which you know give us the fever, create bark likewise, since it's rather a long way from here to China?"
"All you can do is to talk!" said Mr. Sherer, shaking his head; "we cannot possibly converse with you on scientific subjects. But, now I'm sure, nobody will deny, that if a small dose can have any effect, the effect of a large dose must be still greater. If, therefore, the millionth part of a drop of camomile can do any good, I must do my patients more good still, because I give them three large cups of camomile tea; and this, after all, is the truth, for camomile tea, if you administer it in large quantities, works wonders."
"Why," said Kalman, "much depends on the quantity, I grant; but much depends likewise on the manner in which you administer the dose. Now Doctor, for instance, you may sit on a bundle of sticks, say for two hours and longer, without feeling greatly incommoded by the operation. But suppose a single stick be taken from the bundle, placed in the hand of—say of Janosh—and applied in a certain manner of his own, to a certain part of your own; I think, though the whole bundle did not cause any disagreeable sensations, yet the single stick—How do you think it would act, Janosh?" continued Kalman, turning to the hussar, who laughed immoderately.
"My opinion is, that it is all the same with the homœopathy and the—I forget how you call it; but faith, it matters very little! Our lives are in God's hands, and when a man's last day is not come, he won't die though you were to call in a hundred doctors."
There is no saying what Doctor Sherer would have said or done, (for he looked bistouris at the impertinent hussar,) had not Lady Rety entered the room and interrupted the conversation. No sooner did the man of science see her, than he hastened to kiss her hands, pouring forth a long speech about cold water and ice, almond milk, camomile tea, and the wonderful effects of each and all of these invaluable medicines.
Lady Rety was rather ill-tempered, and she showed it to the surgeon as well as to Kalman, who received her with a low bow. But Akosh had always great influence with his step-mother, and even now she treated him, if not kindly, at least with politeness. Sitting down by his bed-side, she asked him, with a great show of interest, how he felt.
Doctor Sherer and Janosh left the room. Kalman saw that his society was not wanted; he went to the other end of the room, opened the window, and looked down upon the garden. Lady Rety looked at Akosh. "Now you see," said she, with a low voice, "what comes of your running after women, instead of doing your duty at the election."
Akosh blushed, and said nothing.