"Let's see your tongue--ah! hum!" and the Long 'Un affected a serious expression as he mixed a stiffish dose of black draught. The urchin pulled a very wry face as he tasted the dose, and stopped for breath half-way through it.
"Every drop!" commanded the Long 'Un.
The urchin obeyed him, and then, bursting into tears, was pleased to be violently sick.
"You'll feel better now--and here's a penny for you," quoth Jim Mortimer, in a truly paternal way for four-and-twenty.
But the urchin renewed his howling.
"I--I came up for me mother's medicine," he quavered; "I--she--she didn't know I'd been eatin' pears."
The Long 'Un threw back his head and burst into a roar of laughter.
"By George! what a shot! Why, Johnny, I thought you'd come to be doctored. Well, here's sixpence for you. Call again for the medicine--I don't know anything about it."
The urchin took the sixpence with a smile showing through his tears, and with a final sniff shuffled out of the waiting-room.
The Long 'Un still looking highly amused, approached the telephone and rang up the asylum.