"And how did this occur, then?" said the house-surgeon to the police-officer, who was standing by.
"Two gentlemen in a cab, coming along Bridge Street, capsized the poor feller," was the answer. "They told me who they was—one a Sir, so I suppose a Barrow-Knight—and t'other, whose card I've got, is a Honourable and a Major. If they hadn't had handles to their names I shouldn't have let 'em go off so quiet as I did, after knocking down a feller-creatur' through sheer carelessness."
"Well, well," said the surgeon, impatiently: "I suppose you know your duty. The leg is set—it's a simple fracture—and there's no danger. Mrs. Jubkins."
"Yes, sir," said a nurse, stepping forward.
"The new patient must be kept very quiet, Mrs. Jubkins," continued the house-surgeon, behind whom stood two assistants, termed dressers, and smelling awfully of rum and tobacco: "and if any casualty that's likely to be noisy should come in to-night, don't put it into this ward, Mrs. Jubkins. I shall visit this Leg the first thing in the morning, before I see the Collar-Bone that came in just now. By the by, Mrs. Jubkins, how's the Eye this evening?"
"The Eye, sir, has been calling out for somethink to eat this last three hours, sir," replied the head nurse of the Casualty Ward.
"And the Ribs, Mrs. Jubkins, that came in this morning—how do you get on there?"
"The Ribs, sir," answered the nurse, somewhat indignantly, "has done nothing but curse and swear ever since you left at noon. It's quite horrible, sir."
"A bad habit, Mrs. Jubkins—a very bad habit," said the surgeon: "swearing neither mends nor helps matters. But damn the fellow—he can't be so very bad, either."
"In course not, sir," observed the nurse. "But what am I to do with the Nose, sir?"