RHUBARB PILL.—These infallible remedies have been in my possession since the years 1835 and 1837, but owing to the opposition of the Cabinet of Physicians, I have not been able to use them for the benefit of the public—and myself. (Bows.) These invaluable remedies—
COUNTRYMAN.—What be they?
RHUBARB PILL.—That’s not a fair question—wait till I’m regularly called in11. Sir Robert Peel at Tamworth.. It’s not that I care about the fee—mine is a liberal profession, and though I have a large family, and as many relations as most people, I really think I should refuse a guinea if it was offered to me.
COUNTRYMAN.—Then why doant’ee tell us?
RHUBARB PILL.—It’s not professional. Besides, it’s quite requisite that I should “feel the patient’s pulse,” or I might make the dose too powerful, and so—
COUNTRYMAN.—Get the sack, Mr. Doctor.
RHUBARB PILL (aside).—Blow the trumpet, Balaam.
BALAAM.—Too-too-tooit—tooit-too-too!
RHUBARB PILL.—And so do more harm than good. Besides, I should require to have the “necessary consultations” over the dinner-table. Diet does a great deal—not that I care about the “loaves and fishes”—but patients are always more tractable after a good dinner. Now there’s an old lady in these parts—
COUNTRYMAN.—What, my old missus?