ing instructions, also took his departure.

"If you're not better by the morning," he said, pausing at the door,
"you must send for your club doctor."

Mr. Scutts, in a feeble voice, thanked him, and lay with a twisted smile
on his face listening to his wife's vivid narrative to the little crowd
which had collected at the front door. She came back, followed by the
next-door neighbour, Mr. James Flynn, whose offers of assistance ranged
from carrying Mr. Scutts out pick-a-back when he wanted to take the air,
to filling his pipe for him and fetching his beer.

"But I dare say you'll be up and about in a couple o' days," he
concluded. "You wouldn't look so well if you'd got anything serious the
matter; rosy, fat cheeks and----"

"That'll do," said the indignant invalid. "It's my back that's hurt,
not my face."

"I know," said Mr. Flynn, nodding sagely; "but if it was hurt bad your
face would be as white as that sheet-whiter."

"The doctor said as he was to be kep' quiet," remarked Mrs. Scutts,
sharply.

"Right-o," said Mr. Flynn. "Ta-ta, old pal. Keep your pecker up, and
if you want your back rubbed with turps, or anything of that sort, just
knock on the wall."

He went, before Mr. Scutts could think of a reply suitable for an
invalid and, at the same time, bristling with virility. A sinful and
foolish desire to leap out of bed and help Mr. Flynn downstairs made him
more rubicund than ever.

He sent for the club doctor next morning, and, pending his arrival,
partook of a basin of arrowroot and drank a little beef-tea. A bottle
of castor-oil and an empty pill-box on the table by the bedside added a
little local colour to the scene.

"Any pain?" inquired the doctor, after an examination in which bony and
very cold fingers had played a prominent part.

"Not much pain," said Mr. Scutts. "Don't seem to have no strength in my
back."

"Ah!" said the doctor.

"I tried to get up this morning to go to my work," said Mr. Scutts, "but
I can't stand! couldn't get out of bed."

"Fearfully upset, he was, pore dear," testified Mrs. Scutts. "He can't
bear losing a day. I s'pose--I s'pose the railway company will 'ave to
do something if it's serious, won't they, sir?"

"Nothing to do with me," said the doctor. "I'll put him on the club for
a few days; I expect he will be all right soon. He's got a healthy
colour--a very healthy colour."

Mr. Scutts waited until he had left the house and then made a few
re