"Couldn't you give a list of the diseases?" insinuated the doctor.
"There are fifty-nine, you said?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then I am afraid we must decline."
Harry resumed his writing, and the doctor took his leave, looking far from satisfied.
"Here, Ferguson," said Harry, after the visitor had retired, "take the pills, and much good may they do you. Better take one now for the growth of your hair."
It was fortunate that Dr. Peabody did not hear the merriment that followed, or he would have given up the editorial staff of the Centreville "Gazette" as maliciously disposed to underrate his favorite medicine.
"Who wouldn't be an editor?" said Harry.
"I notice," said Ferguson, "that pill-tenders and blacking manufacturers are most liberal to the editorial profession. I only wish jewellers and piano manufacturers were as free with their manufactures. I would like a good gold watch, and I shall soon want a piano for my daughter."
"You may depend upon it, Ferguson, when such gifts come in, that I shall claim them as editorial perquisites."