Bildungsromans; England -- Fiction; Foundlings -- Fiction; Humorous stories; Identity (Psychology) -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
profession could never foresee.”--“But do you think him in danger?”
says the other.--“In danger! ay, surely,” cries the doctor: “who is
there among us, who, in the most perfect health, can be said not to be
in danger? Can a man, therefore, with so bad a wound as this be said
to be out of danger? All I can say at present is, that it is well I
was called as I was, and perhaps it would have been better if I had
been called sooner. I will see him again early in the morning; and in
the meantime let him be kept extremely quiet, and drink liberally of
water-gruel.”--“Won't you allow him sack-whey?” said the
landlady.--“Ay, ay, sack-whey,” cries the doctor, “if you will,
provided it be very small.”--“And a little chicken broth too?” added
she.--“Yes, yes, chicken broth,” said the doctor, “is very
good.”--“Mayn't I make him some jellies too?” said the landlady.--“Ay,
ay,” answered the doctor, “jellies are very good for wounds, for they
promote cohesion.” And indeed it was lucky she had not named soup or
high sauces, for the doctor would have complied, rather than have lost
the custom of the house.
The doctor was no sooner gone, than the landlady began to trumpet
forth his fame to the lieutenant, who had not, from their short
acquaintance, conceived quite so favourable an opinion of his physical
abilities as the good woman, and all the neighbourhood, entertained
(and perhaps very rightly); for though I am afraid the doctor was a
little of a coxcomb, he might be nevertheless very much of a surgeon.
The lieutenant having collected from the learned discourse of the
surgeon that Mr Jones was in great danger, gave orders for keeping Mr
Northerton under a very strict guard, designing in the morning to
attend him to a justice of peace, and to commit the conducting the
troops to Gloucester to the French lieutenant, who, though he could
neither read, write, nor speak any language, was, however, a good
officer.
In the evening, our commander sent a message to Mr Jones, that if a
visit would not be troublesome, he would wait on him. This civility
was very kindly and thankfully received by Jones, and the lieutenant
accordingly went up to his room, where he found the wounded man much
better than he expected; nay, Jones assured his friend, that if he had
not received express orders to the contrary from the surgeon, he
should have got up long ago; for he appeared to himself to be as well
as ever, and felt no other inconvenience from his wound but an extreme
soreness on that side of his head.
“I should be very glad,” quoth the lieutenant, “if you was as well as
you fancy yourself, for then you could be able to do yourself justice
immediately; for when a matter can't be made up, as in case of a blow,
the sooner you take him out the better; but I am afraid you think
yourself better than you are, and he would have too much advantage
over you.”
“I'll try, however,” answered Jones, “if you please, and will be so
kind to lend me a sword, for I have none here of my own.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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