"My own idea, Doctor," said Mrs. Skelp, as she made her exit, "is a pint an’ a ’arf—let us say two pints—of stout and bitter. But I leave the particklers to you, sir." When she had really gone the doctor saw some other patients—droves of them. And the last of the drove was a large red man, who had called in to discuss his "constitootion." "It’s run down, Doctor," he explained. "That’s what it is. Me constitootion is run down. Whenever I draws a slow, long breath, it is the same as if there was snakes and scorpions inside me. Very painful it is." "Then take a quick, short breath," suggested Dr. Brink. The patient ignored this obvious response. He did not pay his sixpence to be treated to the obvious. "Also," he continued, "it ’urts me when I whistle." "Then don’t whistle," said the doctor. "The long and the short of it is," pursued the patient, again ignoring the voice of science, "that my constitootion is thoroughly run down.... I ... I was wondering, Doctor.... Can you tell me if water is a safe thing for anybody to drink?" The Doctor started. "Water is Nature’s beverage," he observed. "But don’t you think, Doctor," suggested the invalid, "that when a man ’as got ’is constitootion into a thoroughly onnatural state, the same as what mine is, that a pint or so of onnatural licker——" "Oh ... a pint or so ... yes," put in the doctor. "I bin drinking a lot o’ water lately," continued the patient. "I thought I would give it a trial, Doctor, being Nature’s beverage and what not, and so highly spoke of in the papers. But I come to the conclusion, Doctor, as it don’t get on wiv my constitootion. I got a very peculiar constitootion, Doctor, and it is very much run down. Whenever I turn me eyes up, Doctor, a ’orrible sickly feeling comes over me." "Turn ’em down then," said the doctor. "You don’t approve of all this water, then?" inquired the patient. "You think, per’aps, a pint or two of ale——" "A pint or two of ale? Oh, certainly." "Or stout, Doctor? Say stout and bitter. A couple o’ pints o’ stout and bitter, Doctor; what? To brace up me constitootion like. What?" "Stout and bitter," pronounced the doctor, "has, in certain circumstances, a high tonic value." "Thank you, Doctor. Would you be kind enough to put it in writin’, Doctor? I’m a family man, ye see, and seein’ as I shall be takin’ this tonic for the good o’ my constitootion, I thought per’aps—you see my meanin’, Doctor?" "Quite," said the doctor, reaching out for a half-sheet of notepaper. "Your name and address?" "Skelp," responded the patient. "Samuel Skelp, of Peacock Street. My missus is one o’ your oldest customers." *VIII* *THE WAY OF THE EAST*