patient
presumed that his discharge was secure, he naturally took to himself a
little relaxation in the way of becoming straighter. Unluckily, those
nice blue eyes were everywhere at all hours; and, one fine morning,
Smithson was appalled at finding himself in a detachment bound for the
field, and bearing on his descriptive list an ill-natured endorsement
about his malady.

The surgeon came next on O'Callahan. "Where's your cap, my man?"

"On my head, yer honor," said the other, insolently. "I've a paralytics
in my arm."

"Humph!" cried the surgeon. "You have another hand."

"An' it's not rigulation to saloot with yer left," said the Irishman,
with a grin, while the patients around us began to laugh.

"How did it happen?" said the surgeon.

"I was shot in the shoulder," answered the patient, "about three months
ago, sir. I haven't stirred it since."

The surgeon looked at the scar.

"So recently?" said he. "The scar looks older; and, by the way, doctor,"
to his junior, "it could not have gone near the nerves. Bring the
battery, orderly."

In a few moments the surgeon was testing, one after another, the various
muscles. At last he stopped. "Send this man away with the next
detachment. Not a word, my man. You are a rascal, and a disgrace to
these good fellows who have been among the bullets."

The man muttered something, I did not hear what.

"Put this man in the guard-house," cried the surgeon; and so passed on,
without smile or frown.

As to the ulcer case, to my amusement he was put in bed, and his leg
locked up in a wooden splint, which effectually prevented him from
touching the part diseased. It healed in ten days, and he too went as
food for powder.

As for myself, he asked me a few questions, and, requesting to be sent
for during my next fit, left me alone.

I was of course on my guard, and took care to have my attacks only in
his absence, or to have them over before he arrived.

At length, one morning, in spite of my care, he chanced to be in the
ward, when I fell at the door. I was carried in and laid on a bed,
apparently in strong convulsions. Presently I felt a finger on my
eyelid, and as it was raised, saw the surgeon standing beside me. To
escape his scrutiny, I became more violent in my motions. He stopped a
moment, and looked at me steadily. "Poor fellow!" said he, to my great
relief, as I felt at once that I had successfully deceived him. Then he
turned to the ward doctor and remarked: