I saw at once that it was an apothecary's bill. I was not consulted as a poet, but as a pharmaceutist.
I knew what the trade was, and was advising him to be quiet, when the door opened, and we saw a man of about fifty-five enter. He was of moderate stature and his whole appearance would have been stern, had there not been something sardonic about his lips.
He approached the fire-place, refused to sit down, and I heard the following dialogue I have faithfully recorded.
"Monsieur," said the general, "you sent me a regular apothecary's bill."
The man in black said that he was not an apothecary.
"What then are you?" said the general.
"Sir, I am a pharmaceutist."
"Well," said the general, "your boy—"
"Sir, I have no boy."
"Who then was the young man you sent thither?"