open his eyes; "but let me point out to you
upon this thigh-bone"--disengaging it from the skeleton, with a gentle
twist--"the precise place where I propose to perform the operation.
_Here_, young gentlemen, _here_ is the place. You perceive it is very
near the point of articulation with the trunk."

"Yes," interposed Surgeon Wedge, rising on his toes, "yes, young
gentlemen, the point of articulation with the _acetabulum_ of the _os
innominatum_."

"Where's your Bell on Bones, Dick?" whispered one of the assistants to
the student next him. "Wedge has been spending the whole morning over
it, getting out the hard names."

"Surgeon Wedge," said Cuticle, looking round severely, "we will
dispense with your commentaries, if you please, at present. Now, young
gentlemen, you cannot but perceive, that the point of operation being
so near the trunk and the vitals, it becomes an unusually beautiful
one, demanding a steady hand and a true eye; and, after all, the
patient may die under my hands."

"Quick, Steward! water, water; he's fainting again!" cried the two
mess-mates.

"Don't be alarmed for your comrade; men," said Cuticle, turning round.
"I tell you it is not an uncommon thing for the patient to betray some
emotion upon these occasions--most usually manifested by swooning; it
is quite natural it should be so. But we must not delay the operation.
Steward, that knife--no, the next one--there, that's it. He is coming
to, I think"--feeling the top-man's wrist. "Are you all ready, sir?"

This last observation was addressed to one of the Never-sink's
assistant surgeons, a tall, lank, cadaverous young man, arrayed in a
sort of shroud of white canvas, pinned about his throat, and completely
enveloping his person. He was seated on a match-tub--the skeleton
swinging near his head--at the foot of the table, in readiness to grasp
the limb, as when a plank is being severed by a carpenter and his
apprentice.

"The sponges, Steward," said Cuticle, for the last time taking out his
teeth, and drawing up his shirt sleeves still further. Then, taking the
patient by the wrist, "Stand by, now, you mess-mates; keep hold of his
arms; pin him down. Steward, put your hand on the artery; I shall
commence as soon as his pulse begins to--_now, now!_" Letting fall the
wrist, feeling the thigh carefully, and bowing over it an instant, he
drew the fatal knife unerringly across the flesh. As it first touched
the part, the row of surgeons simultan