“Put out your tongue,” repeated the doctor.
“No, I won’t, till it’s all clearly settled.”
“It is, you old fool,” said the doctor, impatiently; “put out your tongue.”
“Jack, you’re witness it’s all by force,” said Nanny, who at last put out her tongue; “and now, doctor, I’ll tell you.” Whereupon Nanny commenced with a narrative of her ills; and by her own account there was not a portion of her body from top to toe which had not some ailment.
“You’ve a very bad complaint,” said the doctor: “what d’ye think it is? It’s old age. I hardly know whether I can cure it.”
“Can you draw the pain out of my old bones?” said Nanny, groaning.
“Why, I’ll try, at all events. I must send you something to take inwardly.”
“Who’s to pay for it?” said old Nanny.
“I will, mother,” said I.
“You’re witness, doctor—Jack says he’ll pay for it. You’re a good boy, Jack.”