eing admitted to partnership at some future day.

Several weeks passed by. Considering his previous course of life, Sam
acquitted himself very well. He opened the office in the morning,
swept it out, and got it in order before the doctor arrived. During
the day he ran on errands, distributed circulars, in fact made himself
generally useful. The doctor was rather irregular in coming in the
morning, so that Sam was sometimes obliged to wait for him two or
three hours. One morning, when sitting at his ease reading the morning
paper, he was aroused by a knock at the door.

He rose and opened it.

"Is the doctor in?" asked a young man of Irish extraction.

"Hasn't come yet," said Sam. "Would you like to see him?"

"I would thin. He's the man that cures corns, isn't he?"

"Yes," said Sam. "He's the best corn-doctor in the city."

"Thin I've come to the right place, sure."

"Have you got one?"

"I've got a murtherin' big one. It almost kills me."

"Step in and wait for the doctor. He'll be in soon."

"I'm in a great hurry," said the young man. "It's porter I am in a
store down town, and I can't stay long. How much does the doctor
charge?"

"A dollar for each corn."

"O murder! does he now?"

"Isn't it worth that?"

"It's a mighty big price to pay."

"You see," said Sam, "he's a famous doctor; that's why he charges so
much."

"I don't care for that at all. I'm a poor man, and it's hard on me
payin' that much."

Here an idea struck Sam. He had often witnessed the doctor's
operations, and to his inexperienced mind they seemed easy enough to
perform. Why couldn't he operate a little on his own account before
the doctor came? By so doing he would make a little money, and if
successful he would have a future source of revenue, as patients often
came when he was alone.

"I'm the doctor's assistant," he commenced.

"Are you now? So you're the young doctor?"

"Yes," said Sam.

"Then it's a mighty young doctor ye are."

"I know it," said Sam. "I've learnt the trade of Dr. Graham."

"Do you work at it much?" asked the patient.

"Yes," said Sam, "when the doctor's away. I aint as good as he is,"
he admitted candidly, "and that is why I work cheaper."

"You work cheaper, do yer?"

"Yes," said Sam. "I only charge half price."

"That's fifty cents."

"Yes."

"And do you think you could cure me?"

"Of course I could," said Sam, confidently.

"Then go ahead," said the Irishman, in a fit of reckless c