"See him comin' myself, sir. Dogs had gone over the fallows, givin' mouth bea-u-u-tiful, when he comes--this gent, you know--full tear, lifts his horse, clears the hedge, and drops into the lane--Rugley-lane, you know, sir, where the cutting is, with the sand-martins' nestes in the bank. Well, sir, he comes down nice as could be, and then put his horse at t'other bank, as it couldn't be expected to get up, though it did try; and then, before you know'd it, down it come back'ards, right on to the poor gent, and rolled over him, so that when three or four on us got up he was as white and still as your 'ankychy, sir, that he war; and so I come off arter you. And you ain't got sech a thing as a drop o' beer in the house, have you, sir?" "No, my man, I have not," said Mr Tiddson, mounting his steed, which had just been brought round to the front; "but if you will call at my surgery when I return, I daresay I can find you a glass of something.-- Go on, Peter." But Peter did not seem disposed to go on; and it was not until his bare ribs had been drummed by the doctor's heels, and he had been smitten between the ears by the doctor's umbrella, that he condescended to shuffle off in a shambling trot--a pace that put the messenger to no inconvenience to keep alongside, since it was only about half the rate at which he had brought the news. To have seen Mr., or, as he was generally called, _Dr._ Tiddson ride, any one would have called to mind the printed form upon his medicine labels--"To be well shaken;" for he was well shaken in the process, and had at short intervals to push forward his hat, which made a point of getting down over his ears. But, though not effectively, Dr Tiddson and his pony Peter managed to shuffle over the ground, and arrived at the Seven Bells--a little roadside inn--just as four labouring men bore a gate to the door, and then, carefully lifting an insensible figure, carried it into the parlour, where a mattress had been prepared by the landlady. Dr Tiddson did not have an accident to tend every day, while those he did have to do with were the mishaps of very ordinary people. This, then, was something to make him descend from his pony with the greatest of dignity, throwing the reins to the messenger, and entering the little parlour as if monarch of all he surveyed. "Tut--tut--tut!" he exclaimed. "Clear the room directly; the man wants air. Mrs Pottles, send every one out, and lock that door." The sympathising landlady obeyed, and then the examination commenced. "Hum!" muttered the doctor. "Ribs crushed--two, four, certainly; probable laceration of the right lobe; concussion of the brain, evidently. And what have we here? Dear me! A sad case, Mrs Pottles; a fracture of the clavicle, I fear." "Lawk a deary me! Poor gentleman! he 'ave got it bad," said the landlady, raising her hands.