“Look for yourself, my dear sir,” said the trooper mildly. “Here seem to be most of the colors of the rainbow, on this shoulder.”
“You have reason for saying so,” said the other, handling the part with great tenderness and consummate skill. “But happily nothing is broken. It is wonderful how well you escaped!”
“I have been a tumbler from my youth, and I am past minding a few falls from a horse; but, Sitgreaves,” he added with affection, and pointing to a scar on his body, “do you remember this bit of work?”
“Perfectly well, Jack; it was bravely obtained, and neatly extracted; but don’t you think I had better apply an oil to these bruises?”
“Certainly,” said Lawton, with unexpected condescension.
“Now, my dear boy,” cried the doctor, exultantly, as he busied himself in applying the remedy to the hurts, “do you not think it would have been better to have done all this last night?”
“Quite probable.”
“Yes, Jack, but if you had let me perform the operation of phlebotomy when I first saw you, it would have been of infinite service.”
“No phlebotomy,” said the other, positively.
“It is now too late; but a dose of oil would carry off the humors famously.”