“What do you mean?” exclaimed Boy.
“Why, when a Doctor’s Bill grows too long, his patients pay him to get a shorter one—that’s how it is that M.D.‘s change their boys with such frequentness.”
“What a lot of things I am learning to-day, to be sure,” thought Boy as the M.D. came back to them.
“Most interesting case,” he declared, evidently referring to the old gentleman whom he had just left. “The Lumbago is turning to Haberdashery in the left leg.” Then seeing that Boy looked very puzzled he added, “That’s the scientific name for ‘Pins and Needles,’ you know.”
“Oh!” said Boy. “Have you very many patients?” he asked.
“Oh yes,” said the M.D., smiling happily; “this is a most delightfully unhealthy spot. Good gracious,” he continued, “there’s that boy fighting again.” And the M.D. strode forward to where a small crowd was gathered round the Doctor’s Bill and another boy, who were fighting desperately. The M.D. rushed between them, and giving his boy a sharp box on the ears, asked him “what he meant by fighting with a common Grocer’s Bill.”
“It’s most unseemly,” he went on, “for you to be continually quarrelling with Tradesmen’s Bills: remember you have a position to keep up, and if you must fight, never let me catch you doing so again with any one less than a Lawyer’s Bill at least.”
“Please, sir,” blubbered the Doctor’s Bill, “there isn’t a Lawyer’s Bill my size in the kingdom; the shortest one is twice as long as I am.”
“Very well, then, don’t fight at all,” said the M.D. severely, and the Doctor’s Bill walked away sniffing and sobbing with the basket on his arm, while the Grocer’s Bill stood a little way off making grimaces at him.
“These Bills are a great nuisance,” said the M.D., “and are continually quarrelling; but I must leave you now, for I have to visit the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee, who is suffering with Gout. Good-day,” and he hurried up the stone steps of a handsome building on the opposite side of the street.