od for everybody's complaints."
"Bless his handsome face--and so young too! Why, be you a doctor, sir?"
"I should hope so," replied I; "what is it you require--a lotion, or an
embrocation?"
"I don't understand those hard words, but I want some doctor's stuff."
"Very well, my good woman; I know what is proper," replied I, assuming
an important air. "Here, Timothy, wash out this vial very clean."
"Yes, sir," replied Timothy, very respectfully.
I took one of the measures, and putting in a little green, a little
blue, and a little white liquid from the medicine bottles generally used
by Mr Brookes, filled it up with water, poured the mixture into the
vial, corked and labelled it, _haustus statim sumendus_, and handed it
over the counter to the old woman.
"Is the poor child to take it, or is it to rub outside?" inquired the
old woman.
"The directions are on the label;--but you don't read Latin?"
"Deary me, no! Latin! and do you understand Latin? what a nice clever
boy!"
"I should not be a good doctor if I did not," replied I. "On second
thoughts, I consider it advisable and safer, that the application should
be _external_, so I translated the label to her--_Haustus_, rub it
in--_statim_, on the throat--_sumendus_, with the palm of the hand."
"Deary me! and does it mean all that? How much have I to pay, sir?"
"Embrocation is a very dear medicine, my good woman; it ought to be
eighteen-pence, but as you are a poor woman, I shall only charge you
nine-pence."
"I'm sure I thank you kindly," replied the old woman, putting down the
money, and wishing me a good morning as she left the shop.
"Bravo!" cried Timothy, rubbing his hands; "it's halves, Japhet, is it
not?"
"Yes," I replied; "but first we must be honest, and not cheat Mr
Cophagus; the vial is sold, you know, for one penny, and I suppose the
stuff I have taken is not worth a penny more. Now, if we put aside
two-pence for Mr Cophagus, we don't cheat him, or steal his property;
the other seven-pence is of course our own--being the _profits of the
profession_."
"But how shall we account for receiving the two-pence?" said Timothy.
"Selling two vials instead of one: they are never reckoned, you know."
"That will do capitally," cried Timothy; "and now for halves." But this
could not be managed until Timothy had run out and changed the sixpence;
we then each had our three-pence halfpenny, and for once in our lives
could say that we had
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