“She shu’d be, I’m jist thinkin’; it will not be lang before she’s a mither,” muttered the little man. Then, turning quickly to Flora, he said, “I wull speak to the medical man on board, an’ tell him to tak’ partic’lar care o’ you during the voyage. What’s his name?” “There is no such person. The vessel is too small to incur such an expensive addition to the comfort of her passengers. The captain told me that he was his own doctor.” “How many passengers does he tak’ out?” “Seventy-two in the steerage, five in the cabin, besides his crew, eight in number.” “Eighty-five human beings, an’ no medical man on board! ’Tis jest a’ disgrace to the owners, and shu’d be reported. In case o’ cholera, or ony other epeedemic brakin’ out amang ye, wha wu’d become o’ ye a’?” “We must trust in God. The great Physician of souls will not be forgetful of our bodily infirmities.” “True, true, young leddy; cling close to Him. Ye ha’ muckle need o’ His care. An’ dinna trust your life to the dochtering o’ a sullen ignoramus like the captain,—an obstinate, self-willed brute, that, right or wrang, will ha’ his ain way. Dinna tak’ ony medicine frae him.” Flora was amused at the idea of calling in a one-eyed Esculapius like the jolly captain. The absurdity of the thing made her laugh heartily. “It’s nae laughing matter,” said the little doctor, whose professional dignity was evidently wounded by her mistimed mirth. “Hout! dinna’ I ken the man for the last ten years or mair. Thae medicine kist he prizes mair than his sole remaining e’e, an’ fancies himsel a dochtor fitting a king. Ye canna’ please him mair than by gie’n’ him a job. The last voyage he made in this verra brig, he administered in his ignorance, a hale pint o’ castor oil in ain dose to a lad on board, which took the puir fallow aff his legs completely. Anither specimen o’ his medical skill was gie’n are o’ his crew, a heapen spun-fu’ o’ calomel, which he mistook for magnesia. I varilie believe that he canna’ spell weel eneugh to read the directions in the buik. An’ is it to sic a dunderheid that the lives of eighty-five human beings are to be entrusted?” Flora was highly entertained by this account of the Captain’s skill; while the doctor, who loved to hear himself talk, continued in a more impressive and confidential tone— “Now, dinna be sae ill-advised as to be takin’ pheesic a’ the time, young leddy. If ye wu’d keep yersel in health, persuade the Captain to gie ye the charge o’ yon kist o’ poisons, an’ tak’ the first opportunity to drap the key by accident overboord. By sae doin’ ye may be the savin’ o’ your ain life, an’ the lives of a’ the humanities on boord the brig _Anne_.” Flora was fond of a little amateur doctoring. To part with the medicine-chest, she considered, would be a great sin, and she was already secretly longing to overhaul its contents.