-
eh, Meadows?"

"Yes, in any weather," said Sir John, smiling. "A British boy knowing
anything about the weather! Bosh! Do you think any of our old heroes
ever bothered their brains about the weather when they wanted to do
something? Look here! another word or two. You always go to sleep of
course directly you lay your head on the pillow, and want another snooze
when it's time to get up, eh?"

"No," said the lad sadly, "I often lie awake a long time thinking."

"Thinking!" cried the doctor in tones of disgust. "The idea of a
healthy boy thinking when he goes to bed! It's monstrous. An
overstrained brain, my lad. You are thoroughly out of order, my boy,
and it was quite time that you were pulled up short. Frankly, you've
been over-crammed with food to nourish the brain, while the body has
been starved."

"And now, my boy, we're going to turn over a new leaf, and make a fresh
start. Come, doctor, you will prescribe for him at once."

"What! jalap and senna, and _Pil. Hydrargerum_, and that sort of stuff,
to make him pull wry faces?"

"I do not profess to understand much of such matters; but I should
presume that you would give him tonics. What will you give him to
take--bark?"

"No: something to make him bite."

"Well, what?"

"Nothing!"

"Nothing?"

"Ah, you are like the rest of the clever people, Meadows. You think a
doctor is of no good unless he gives you pills and draughts. But don't
be alarmed, Jack, boy. I am not going to give you either."

"What then?"

"Nothing, I tell you. Yes, I am; fresh air--fresh water."

"Yes; and then?"

"More fresh air, and more fresh water. Look here, Meadows; food is the
best medicine for his case--good, wholesome food, and plenty of it as
soon as he can digest. I want to hear him say, `What's for dinner
to-day?' That's a fine sign of a boy being in good health."

"Well, Jack, what do you say to all this?" said Sir John.

"I don't know what to say, father," replied the lad. "I did not know I
was unwell."

"I suppose not," interposed the doctor. "But you are, and the worst of
it is that you will get worse."

"Then give your instructions," said Sir John, "and we will try and
follow them out--eh, Jack?"

"I will do anything you wish, father," said the boy, with a sigh.

"Yes, of course you will, my boy. Well, doctor, we are waiting. Let's
take the stitch in time."

"Ah! but we can't now," said Doctor Instow. "We shall have to take
ni