St. Bernard's: The Romance of a Medical StudentBerdoe, Edward
General
St. Bernard's: The Romance of a Medical Student
Berdoe, Edward
Medical students -- Fiction
She knew at once this was one of the trophies of last night’s spree.
Knockers and bell-handles, brass plates of moderate size, stolen from
milliners’ and dressmakers’ doors—to these there could be no
objection; but sign-boards, barbers’ poles, doctors’ lamps (for even
the profession was not sacred from the attacks of “the boys”), were
“dead agen her rules,” as she was always insisting, because, being so
big, they could hardly be got into the house without exciting
observation, and perhaps might bring discredit on the hospital.
“Look here, Mr. Murphy, I have told you over and over again, I can’t
have them things in my house. You will be caught like Mr. Hodder was
when he stole the big gold coffee pot from over the grocer’s door, and
a bobby as didn’t know him, and wouldn’t take no bribe, run him into
Bow Street, and if he hadn’t been the son of a member of Parliament,
and known to the beak, he’d ’a had to ’a gone to jail, he would; for
the grocer was mortal angry, as he had had two coffee pots and a bell
handle stole the winter before, and he always suspected the students.
No! I draws the line at things like this. I have too much respect for
you, and the character of my house, to harbour the likes of ’em, so
don’t do it.” Not even “a toothful of summat short,” as Murphy phrased
it, could appease the good woman. “No, bell-handles and sich is good
enough sport,” she persisted, “for anybody. I have nothing to say agen
them; you gents must have your larks, and bell-handles and knockers
goes in your pockets, but I draws the line at these here; take it away.
Stay, I’ll put it in the cellar. Why, the taxes, or the gas, or the
water rate might see it, and give information. They’re none of ’em any
too fond of you boys, and they are quite equal to it.” And so with much
regret, Murphy gave up his “Desirable Villa Residence,” merely
extorting a promise that it might appear on the mantel for one night
only—the “trophy supper” he was to give at the end of the winter
session, when he was to exhibit his museum of stolen curiosities to his
companions in the midnight revels.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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