“Sure enough away I goes i’ the marnin’ to Doctor Offley. ‘Doctor,’ says I, howldin’ out the bottle, ‘we all think our colds are much the better o’ this here midcine, an’ I comed, av ye plaze, for another o’ the same.’
“Musha! but ye should ha’ seen the rage he goes off into. ‘Finished it all?’ says he. ‘Ivery dhrop, doctor,’ says I, ‘at wan sittin’.’ At that he stamped an’ swore at me, an’ ordered me away as if I’d bin a poor relation; an’ says he, ‘I’ll sind ye a bottle to-night as’ll cure ye!’ Sure so he did. The second bottle would have poison’d a rat. It lasted us all six months, an’ I do belave ye’ll find the most of it in the cupboard at this minnit av ye look.”
“Come, Willie,” said Frank, while the men were laughing at the remembrance of this incident. “I’m going down your way and will give you a convoy. We can take a look in at the gymnastics as we pass, if you choose.”
“All right, Blazes, come along.” So saying they left the station, and set off at a brisk pace in the direction of the City.
Chapter Nine.
Auctions and Gymnastics.
As the brothers drew near to the busy region of the City which lies to the north of London Bridge; Frank turned aside into one of the narrow streets that diverge from the main thoroughfare.
“Where are ye goin’?” inquired Willie.