Unborn Doctor (The), of Moorfields. Not being born a doctor, he called himself “The Un-born Doctor.”
Walker (Dr.), one of the three great quacks of the eighteenth century, the others being Dr. Rock and Dr. Timothy Franks. Dr. Walker had an abhorrence of quacks, and was for ever cautioning the public not to trust them, but come at once to him, adding, “there is not such another medicine in the world as mine.”
Not for himself but for his country he prepares his gallipot, and seals up his precious drops for any country or any town, so great is his zeal and philanthropy.—Goldsmith, A Citizen of the World, lxviii. (1759).
Ward (Dr.), a footman, famous for his “friars’ balsam.” He was called in to prescribe for George II., and died 1761. Dr. Ward had a claret stain on his left cheek, and in Hogarth’s famous picture, “The Undertakers’ Arms,” the cheek is marked gules. He occupies the right hand side of the spectator, and forms one of the triumvirate, the others being Dr. Taylor and Mrs. Mapp.
Dr. Kirlëus and Dr. Tom Saffold are also known names.
Quackleben (Dr. Quentin), “the man of medicine,” one of the committee at the Spa.—Sir W. Scott, St. Ronan’s Well (time, George III.).
Quaint (Timothy), servant of Governor Heartall. Timothy is “an odd fish, that loves to swim in troubled waters.” He says, “I never laugh at the governor’s good humors, nor frown at his infirmities. I always keep a steady, sober phiz, fixed as the gentleman’s on horseback at Charing Cross; and, in his worst of humors, when all is fire and faggots with him, if I turn round and coolly say, ‘Lord, sir, has anything ruffled you?’ he’ll burst out into an immoderate fit of laughter, and exclaim, ‘Curse that inflexible face of thine! Though you never suffer a smile to mantle on it, it is a figure of fun to the rest of the world.”—Cherry, The Soldier’s Daughter (1804).
Quaker Poet (The), Bernard Barton (1784-1849).
Quaker Widow. Gentle old dame who, on the afternoon of her husband’s funeral, tells to a kindly visitor the simple story of her blameless life, its joys and sorrows, and of the light that comes at eventide.
“It is not right to wish for death;
The Lord disposes best.
His spirit comes to quiet hearts
And fits them for His rest.
And that He halved our little flock
Was merciful, I see;
For Benjamin has two in Heaven,
And two are left with me.”
Bayard Taylor, The Quaker Widow.