By the time you feel disposed to come back to the gas-stove again it will be seen that the apprentice mother has given place to a grandmamma, who has looked in, as a friend, to mention that much gossip is arising in consequence of the extreme youth of Dr. Brink’s apothecary. Far be it from her—Elizabeth Tebbings—to be one as would carry idle tales or utter idle plaint, but the fact remained and could be very solemnly attested by many honest witnesses from Mulberry Buildings that the medicine which she, Elizabeth Tebbings, had last Tuesday week received from the apothecary possessed a strange, unusual, and forbidding flavour—a nasty-nice sort of flavour which gave you shivers down your back. "Far be it from me," protested Mrs. Tebbings, "to cast no slur, especially when the parints of the party has been friends and neighbours along with anybody—good neighbours, too—’is father especially being the ’andsomest man in the Customs service—but the truth is the truth even though a young man’s parints _is_ beknown to you, and to tell you the truth of _this_ affair, Doctor, young Wilfered Crage ’e _is_ young—a mere boy, Doctor, if you understand my meanin’. And, unwilling as I am, ’avin’ come to a motherly time of life, for to kerry tales, still I must say—speaking friendly, mind you, Doctor—that the medicine _did_ taste ugly. Me brother Joseph tells me there was stricknyne in it." The doctor, having closely examined the water-tap in Wilfered’s official laboratory, is heard to assure Mrs. Tebbings that her fears of strychnine poisoning are groundless, and that lady goes out with her confidence partially restored. "At the same time," she insists from the threshold, "the boy _is_ young. And you got to remember that some of your patients _’ave_ died sudden, Doctor. Look at that girl wiv ’earts disease what lived in our basement!" The next woman to enter has come to "engage." "I expect about the first week in September," she says. "An’ if you please I’d like to pay a couple o’ shillin’ orf me ticket now. An’, if you please, Doctor, will you give me the ticket with the two shillin’ wrote orf? On’y will you give me another ticket, too, without nothink wrote orf? I want one so’s I kin show it to me ’usband, see, Doctor? ’Cause if ’e see as I bin able to pay orf any, ’e’ll say as I kin pay the lot orf, and I want to git a little ’elp from ’im, Doctor, so’s to ’elp me over it all." This mild and unreproachful statement will probably provide you with a subject of thought. But your attention is diverted from that theme by the sudden appearance of one more mother—a hearty, stalwart, red-faced mother, with an ample bosom. This mother produces from behind the door a hearty, stalwart, red-faced boy. "’Is teef is rotten, Doctor," she explains. "I brought ’im round to ’ave ’em out. There’s three wants coming out. They’re all the same side. See ’em?"