l, Doctor, and glad to do it. Go ahead!"

He perched on the rail like a great sea-bird. The Doctor to carry out
the farce put his finger in the gaping mouth and touched the tooth.
While he kept his finger in place he uttered the solemn words:

"Abracadabra Tiddlywinkum Umslopoga."

That last word must have come from a hazy memory of the name of the
wonderful big black man in H. Rider Haggard's "Alan Quatermain," who
after a long, hard run beside a horse that carries his master, defends
a stairway against their enemies and splits a magic stone with an axe
and so brings the foe to grief.

At any rate, the combination worked. Grenfell pulled out his finger
quickly so that his patient wouldn't bite him.

The fisherman got up in silence. Then he slowly made the circuit of
the deck. In the course of the brief journey, he thrust his hand deep
into his jeans and pulled out a quarter.

"Thank you, Doctor. Many thanks." He solemnly handed the coin to his
benefactor. "All the pain has gone."

Dr. Grenfell stood holding the coin in his hand, wondering how he came
to make such a fool of himself, while the fisherman's broad back bent
to the oars of the little boat that took him ashore.

A month later, in the same harbor, the same man swung his leg over the
rail with a hearty greeting.

"Had any more trouble?" asked the Doctor.

"No--sir! Not an ache out of her since!" came the jovial answer.

The Doctor had much trouble with patients who wanted to drink at one
draught all the medicine he gave them. They thought that if a
teaspoonful of the remedy was good for you, the whole bottle must be
ever so much better.

A haddock's fin-bone was a "liveyere's" charm against rheumatism--but
you must get hold of the haddock and cut off the fin before he touches
the boat. So you don't often get a fin that is good for anything.

If you want to avoid a hemorrhage, the best plan is to tie a bit of
green worsted round your wrist.

Both Protestants and Catholics write prayers on pieces of paper and
wear them in little bags about their necks to drive off evil things.

The constant battle against wind and wave develops heroes and
heroines, and the tales told of golden deeds such as might earn a
Carnegie medal or pension are beyond number.

One man started south for the winter in his fishing-boat, with his
fishing partner, his wife, four children and a servant girl. A gale of
wind came up. On the Labrador a gale is a gale: they do not u