GOOD DAY, DOCTHER, DARLINT! GOOD DAY.—PAGE 293.
Our landlady had converted the up-stairs sitting room into a reception room and private office for the Doctor, by drawing a heavy curtain as a partition. It was my duty to remain in the reception half of the room to entertain the callers, while the Doctor was occupied in the consultation half, with the patient. Therefore I had a grand opportunity to witness the scene with our Celtic patient, by peeking between the curtains.
The Doctor was fairly paralyzed, and had a ghastly, sickening expression of countenance during the interview.
He made no attempt to speak further.
As she passed out and slammed the door behind her, I opened the curtains and cried out:
"Change Cars for Pocahontas!"
The Doctor began to rave and plunge and swear by note.
He said I had no better sense than to try to make a curiosity of him, and I would make a —— sight better blower for a side-show than traveling agent for a celebrated physician; and that if I had the pluck of a sick kitten, I would have thrown that old Irish woman out, rather than sit there and snicker at her tirade and abuse of him.
In a few minutes a lady of German extraction called. The Doctor was in no very fit condition of mind to go into a state of Clairvoyance.
With the excuse that business was too pressing to take time to do so, he asked the lady to explain her affliction. In broken English she said: