Dr. Alexander Fraser, of Aberdeen, was a homely and somewhat gruff but skilful physician. Among his patients was a sturdy country wife of the working class order, who had, upon very slight pretence, as Fraser felt satisfied, taken into her head that she was unwell—indeed, “was just dwynin’ awa,” as she herself phrased it. “And fat could he do for her?”
The doctor did not feel called upon to search the pharmacopœia very deeply, and asked if she thought she could eat a herring.
“Ay,” she said, “I rather like them.”
“Weel,” said he, “ye canna do better than haud tichtly at them.”
On his next visit the patient was asked if she had felt herself equal to carrying out the prescription.
“Ou ay.”
“An’ how many herrin’ did you contrive to eat?”
“Weel, sir, I managed eleven.”
“Eleven! indeed; that is quite as many as I expected. How did you manage them?”