"Yes, at first," said another; "he's like him--leastways the clothes is." "By the way," said the first, "I wonder when the doctor will be ready for another subject. I suppose poor Jack's cut up long since." "Hush! you fool," said the other. By this time I had taken my seat in the coach, and looking in the direction of the voices, I recognised my friends of the other night, Tom and Bill. Off we then started. The coach was full of men I knew as well as my own father, most of them my customers. I appeared absorbed in my book, so as not to get entangled in conversation with anyone, for fear that my voice might betray me. Two men, who appeared to be strangers to each other, began entering into conversation. "Dreadful business this epidemic, sir," said the younger of the two to the elder. "Yes, it is indeed," replied the elder; "the young fare the same as the old, they say, but I am a stranger in the place." "Oh, indeed, sir," said the first speaker; and then added, "Yes, sir--that's true enough--the young die as soon as the old. Hardly a week ago died young Jack Hearty, son of old Hearty, as keeps the Headless Lady--a lad of nineteen, and as hale a young fellow as ever you'd find in a day's march. He was taken suddenly ill, and died in a very few days. "Poor young fellow! who'd have thought that he would have gone along with the rest? He was an only son, too, and they say his father is devilish down in the mouth about it." "Dear me! dreadful, to be sure," replied the elder. The conversation then changed to various topics, and became general, the only one not joining in it being myself. I still pored over my book, appearing not to take an interest in anything that was being said, although my ears were open to catch every word. "Who's that cove?" I heard one say to his neighbour. "Oi doan't knaw, Oi'm sure," replied the one addressed, being a lusty farmer. "Oi never see'd un in these parts afore--looks loike a doctor." "Why don't he speak?" said the other. "He won't talk to no one." "Maybe un's too proud," said the former. "I'd like to kick the surly devil," said his companion. "What'll you bet Oi doan't make un speak?" said the countryman. "Bet you a halfpenny you don't get a word out of him," said the first speaker. "Done," said the farmer, and turning suddenly upon me, accosted me thus:-- "Oi zay, governor, you bes a doctor, b'aint ye?" I drew myself up with an air of dignity, and said with a frown, and in a feigned voice: "Did you address _me_, sir?" "Ees," said the bumpkin, unawed by my assumption of dignity; "and Oi axes ye if ye b'aint a doctor." "Well, sir," I said; "and if I am!" "Ha! ha! ha!" he laughed coarsely. "Oi knowed ye was. Oi thought Oi knowed the breed. Vell, you doctors has made a pretty harvest of late, Oi reckon," said the farmer, bluntly. "How so, sir," I asked. "I do not understand you."