them
in large quantities, which is occasionally annoying to the poor; yet, as
I have always observed, there is no poverty as painful as your own, so
that I prefer to distribute pecuniary suffering among many rather than
to concentrate it on myself. That's a rather neat phrase.

About six months after the date of this annoying adventure, an
incident occurred which altered somewhat, and for a time improved, my
professional position. During my morning office-hour an old woman came
in, and putting down a large basket, wiped her face with a yellow-cotton
handkerchief, and afterwards with the corner of her apron. Then she
looked around uneasily, got up, settled her basket on her arm with a
jerk which may have decided the future of an egg or two, and remarked
briskly: "Don't see no little bottles about; got the wrong stall, I
guess. You ain't no homeopath doctor, are you?"

With great presence of mind, I replied: "Well, ma'am, that depends upon
what you want. Some of my patients like one, and some like the other."
I was about to add, "You pay your money and you take your choice,"
but thought better of it, and held my peace, refraining from classical
quotation.

"Being as that's the case," said the old lady, "I'll just tell you my
symptoms. You said you give either kind of medicine, didn't you?"

"Just so," replied I.

"Clams or oysters, whichever opens most lively, as my old Joe
says--tends the oyster-stand at stall No. 9. Happen to know Joe?"

No, I did not know Joe; but what were the symptoms?

They proved to be numerous, and included a stunning in the head and a
misery in the side, with bokin after victuals.

I proceeded, of course, to apply a stethoscope over her ample bosom,
though what I heard on this and similar occasions I should find it
rather difficult to state. I remember well my astonishment in one
instance where, having unconsciously applied my instrument over a
clamorous silver watch in the watchfob of a sea-captain, I concluded for
a moment that he was suffering from a rather remarkable displacement of
the heart. As to my old lady, whose name was Checkers, and who kept an
apple-stand near by, I told her that I was out of pills just then, but
would have plenty next day. Accordingly, I proceeded to invest a small
amount at a place called a homeopathic pharmacy, which I remember amused
me immensely.

A stout little German, with great silver spectacles, sat behind a
counter containing numerous jars of whi