“The doctor’s books, or the doctor,” said Septimus.
“To be sure,” said the old man; “I haven’t got it right yet; and really you know, sir, this isn’t a first-class place to get right in, and they won’t part with me yet, though I do long now to be well, and at liberty for a peep at the old law-courts and Lincoln’s-inn once more. I mean to have a holiday, and spend it among all the posts in the old square as soon as I’m out; I’m getting so light-hearted and jolly, sir. Why, it will be quite a treat to be somewhere amongst a bit or two of dirt once more; we’re so clean here.”
“Only a little longer, Matt,” said Septimus smiling.
“You see,” said Matt, “there’s so much to upset one about. What with the screen round this bed, and the screen round that bed, and the groans and sighs, ah, and even shouts sometimes, there’s plenty to make a poor fellow feel low-spirited. Now there’s a chap over there in that bed seems to have taken it into his head that he suffers more than anyone who ever came into the place, and howls and goes on terribly; while the bigger and stronger people are, sir, the more weak they seem to me to be in bearing pain. I believe, after all, you know, sir, that the little weak women beat us hollow.”
“Ah!” said the patient spoken of, surmising from Matt’s gestures that he was being referred to—“ah! Mr Space, you are talking about me, sir, and my groans, and it’s very hard and unfeeling, sir. You may suffer yourself some day.”
The visitor felt uncomfortable; but old Matt took it up directly.
“That’s cool, anyhow,” he gasped; “why, what do you mean? haven’t I suffered as much as any of you, and been through two operations, and lived ’em out too? Why, what more would you have? It would have killed a big fellow like you, I know.”
The patient replied with a groan, and began muttering about the unfeeling behaviour of those about him, from whom, he said, he had expected a little sympathy.
This roused the ire of a neighbour who had lost a leg through being run over by a coal-wagon, and he now took up the matter, followed by several others; so that a wordy warfare seemed imminent.
“That’s it, go on,” growled Matt in an undertone. “They’re all getting better, sir; and, consequently, they’re as cross as two sticks. What a thing it is! There seems to be no gratitude amongst them; and really, sir, if it wasn’t for the nurses, it wouldn’t be such a bad place to come to—that is, for a man with strong nerves, you know. Now just look at ’em, how they are going it!”