Dr. So it must be, no doubt. This, you say, is your everyday life; but, upon great occasions, you perhaps exceed a little?
Pa. No, sir; except when a friend or two dine with me, or I dine out, which, as I am a sober family man, does not often happen.
Dr. Not above twice a week?
Pa. No, not oftener.
Dr. Of course you sleep well and have a good appetite?
Pa. Yes, sir, thank Heaven, I have; indeed, any ill health that I have is about mealtime.
Dr. (Rising with a severe air—the Patient also rises.) Now, sir, you are a very pretty fellow, indeed! You come here and tell me you are a moderate man; but, upon examination, I find, by your own showing, that you are a most voracious glutton. You said you were a sober man; yet, by your own showing, you are a beer-swiller, a dram-drinker, a wine-bibber, and a guzzler of punch. You tell me you eat indigestible suppers, and swill toddy to force sleep. I see that you chew tobacco. Now, sir, what human stomach can stand this? Go home, sir, and leave your present course of riotous living, and there are hopes that your stomach may recover its tone, and you be in good health, like your neighbors.
Pa. I’m sure, doctor, I’m very much obliged to you. (Taking out a bundle of bank notes.) I shall endeavor to——
Dr. Sir, you are not obliged to me:—put up your money, sir. Do you think I’ll take a fee for telling you what you know as well as myself? Though you’re no physician, sir, you are not altogether a fool. Go home, sir, and reform, or, take my word for it, your life is not worth half a year’s purchase.
Pa. Thank you, doctor, thank you. Good-day, doctor.