Flora was highly entertained by this account of the Captain’s skill; while the doctor, who loved to hear himself talk, continued in a more impressive and confidential tone—
“Now, dinna be sae ill-advised as to be takin’ pheesic a’ the time, young leddy. If ye wu’d keep yersel in health, persuade the Captain to gie ye the charge o’ yon kist o’ poisons, an’ tak’ the first opportunity to drap the key by accident overboord. By sae doin’ ye may be the savin’ o’ your ain life, an’ the lives of a’ the humanities on boord the brig Anne.”
Flora was fond of a little amateur doctoring. To part with the medicine-chest, she considered, would be a great sin, and she was already secretly longing to overhaul its contents.
A few well-established remedies, promptly administered in simple cases of illness, and followed by the recovery of the patients, had made her imagine herself quite a genius in the healing art; and she rejected the homely little Doctor’s last piece of advice as an eccentric whim, arising either from ignorance of his profession, or from disappointment in not having been appointed surgeon to the brig.
Dr. MacAdie was neither deficient in skill nor talent. He was a poor man, of poor parentage, who had worked hard to obtain his present position, and provide a comfortable home for his father and mother in their old age. His practice was entirely confined to the humble walks of life, and he was glad to obtain a few additional meals for a large family by inspecting the health of emigrants preparatory to their voyage.
In this case, his certificate of health was very satisfactory; and he told the Captain that he had seldom seen a heartier, healthier set o’ decent bodies in sic a sma’ vessel, and hepathetically entreated him not to tamper with their constitutions, by giving them dangerous drugs whose chemical properties he did not understand, declaring emphatically, “That nature was the best phesician after all.” The Captain considered this gratuitous piece of advice as an insult, for he very gruffly bade Doctor MacAdie “Take care of his own patients; he wanted none of his impertinent interference.”
The little Doctor drew up his shoulders with an air of profound contempt; then taking a monstrous pinch of snuff, in the most sneezable manner, from his old-fashioned box, he shook Mrs. Lyndsay kindly by the hand, and wishing her and her gudeman a prosperous voyage, vanished up the companion-ladder.
Old Boreas shook his fist after his retreating figure. “You d——d, insignificant, snuffy little coxcomb! I’m a d——d sight better doctor than you are. If the Government sends you again, poking your long nose among my people, I’ll make a surgical case for you to examine at home at your leisure, I will.”
In order to divert his ill-humour, Flora inquired at what hour the ship sailed?
“She must wait for that which never yet waited for mortal man—wind and tide. It will be midnight before we get under weigh.”