Anon a hall-boy went by slowly, a-bearin’ a pitcher of ice water; anon a chambermaid, and then I recognized a messenger’s slow, haltin’ step.
And then I see the doctor’s benine face, framed in gray hair and ornamented with whiskers of the same color, approachin’.
I folded my breakfast shawl closter around my form and advanced to the door, and sez I—
“Can I speak to you for a moment, sir?”
“Yes,” sez he.
Sez I, “I would like to employ you for a few minutes.”
“Yes,” sez he, a-enterin’ the room willin’ly, as if it wuz the way of his business, as doctors always do.
He looked round the room enquirin’ly as he entered, and as if mentally in search of sunthin’. And I spozed mebby it wuz to see if he could see signs of any other doctor’s medicine or sunthin’. And I spoke up, and sez I:
“I have had some trouble with my back lately, and I want you to look at it and see what is the matter;” sez I, “I want to know whether it is neuralgy or a bile.”
