And armed with this opinion I asked my medical friend if he knew any one in Callerherring capable of performing the operation.
"Well, yes," he replied, after some consideration; "there's a nice little dentist round the corner. He's called Mr. Leo Armstrong."
Then "Master Sammy" smiled, and I felt sure that he and "the nice little dentist" must have quite recently been playing marbles together. Next came the question of the fee. "Master Sammy" was disinclined to accept anything, evidently taking a low estimate of the value of his professional services. However, he ultimately said "Three-and-sixpence," and got the money. I would willingly have increased it to a crown had I not feared that the moment my back was turned "Master Sammy" would have followed the example of George Lewis Bolton Rollit, and himself indulged in five shillings' worth of Chicago Honey Shells.
Mr. Leo Armstrong lived in a rather fine-looking house, ornamented with an aged brass plate, suggesting that he had been established for very many years. A buttons opened the door, and, on my inquiring as to whether Mr. Leo Armstrong was at home, promptly answered "Yes."
From the venerable appearance of the brass plate I had expected to see a rather elderly dentist, with possibly white hair and certainly spectacles; so I was rather taken aback when a dapper young fellow, who seemed about the age of "Master Sammy," entered the waiting-room. The juvenile new-comer made himself master of the situation. He seized upon the jaw of poor trembling George Lewis Bolton Rollit, and declared that "it must come out."
"He'd better have gas," he observed. "But as I am full of engagements this morning, you really must let me fix a time."
Then he took out a pocket-book which I could not help noticing contained such items as "Soda-water—3s.," "Washing—5s.," and "Church collection—6d.," and placed our name and time amidst the other entries.
We kept our appointment. The buttons was in a state of excitement. Mr. Leo Armstrong received us, and pointed to the gas apparatus with an air of triumph, as if he had had some difficulty in getting it entrusted to him in consequence of his youth. Then "Master Sammy" made his appearance. He was going to administer the gas. It was a pleasant family party, and I felt quite parental. Had it not been for poor George Lewis Bolton Rollit's swollen face, I should have said to Mr. Leo Armstrong, "Master Sammy," my boy, and the buttons, "Here, lads, let us make a day of it. I will take you all to Madame Tussaud's and the Zoological Gardens."
"You have had the gas, haven't you?" said "Master Sammy," who had been fumbling with the apparatus. "How do you put it on?"
Poor George Lewis Bolton Rollit, under protest, described the modus operandi. Then the mouth was opened, and "Master Sammy" applied the gas. I am sorry to say he performed the operation rather clumsily, and my poor lad never "went off." George Lewis Bolton Rollit subsequently described every detail of the performance, and said that he had suffered excruciating pain. Then Mr. Leo Armstrong went to work, and, after several struggles, got out a bit of tooth, and then another. Then George Lewis Bolton Rollit came to himself, and the usual comforts were supplied to him.