Whilst he had been speaking, Jim had popped the prussic acid jar on its shelf, and opened the door communicating with the waiting-room. "Ah, Mr Harris! Good evening! Come in!" The old provision dealer--for it was he--walked into the surgery. Koko made as if he would withdraw, but Jim motioned to him to stop. "I’m pretty near done, doctor," said Mr Harris, sinking wearily into a chair; "my ’ead feels as if my ’air was bein’ brushed more than ever. And that velp--’e’s gettin’ more a caution every day. ’E tumbled to my game, and marked the wrong ’orses for me to back--and my money’s all gone. Yes, vot vith ’im and my ’ealth, I vish I vos dead." "You don’t get enough fresh air, Mr Harris," said Jim. "Fresh air!" cried the old man; "no, not a mouthful. Not likely. That boy--that son of mine--Isaac--’e’s a ’eartless young ’ound. Keeps ’is old father vorkin’ and vorkin’ from seven in the mornin’ till ten at night. Fresh air! Vy, I falls asleep in my chair ven I’ve locked up the shop!" Koko and Jim looked sympathetic, but made no comment. "Now ’e’s boss," proceeded the old dealer--"now ’e’s ’_Arris_, and I’m only the _Father_, there’s no end to the airs he gives ’isself. Wears a red veskit and a big chain and a norty turn-down collar like vot the swells vear, and a check soot vich ’e got second-’and from a bookmaker. There’s no ’oldin’ ’im!" declared Mr Harris, with a groan. He paused a moment to wag his head sorrowfully, and then again took up the tale of his woes. "So vot vith Isaac, and vot vith this ’air brushin’ a-always goin’ on on the top of me ’ead, I feel pretty near like throwin’ myself inter the river and settlin’ it all that vay. Not that Isaac vould care--not ’e! ’E’d bury me as cheap as possible, and think it ’ard lines I vosn’t voshed out to sea instead of bein’ brought ’ome to cause ’im expense!" "Well, well," said Jim, soothingly, "I’ll give you some medicine that’ll make you feel very much better, Mr Harris. You’re run down, and that’s why you feel so despondent." "The real reason vy," continued Mr Harris, as Jim got up to prepare the medicine, "I don’t do avay vith myself _is_, I vant to stay by Isaac’s side and go on varnin’ ’im agen Rebecca Nathan. She’s a designin’ minx--she’s just leadin’ Isaac on to get vot she can out of ’im." "What--has your son got a young woman?" "_Young_ voman! Vy, she’s older than Isaac by ten years, and Isaac’s twenty-four. ’E’s infatooated, is Isaac. ’E leans ’er photograrf agen the corfee pot an’ sighs venever ’e looks at it, and ’e puts it just vare ’e’ll see it ven ’e vakes in the mornin’. ’E bought her a flash diamond brooch, but she noo better than to be took in that vay, so ’e ’ad to buy ’er a real one. She’s the sharpest bit of female-goods in Mount Street--father keeps the fried-fish shop by the ’Lord Nelson.’" "I know the place," said Jim.