Most men are discontented, and the want of contentment is just as querulous with the cosmopolitan reputation that unblushingly pockets a double eagle for a few raps on the thorax as with its suburban and obscure double that explores a whole chest half an hour for a dollar. The latter pays a shilling to the village blacksmith to reset a shoe, and the former hands over eight dollars every time the farrier looks at his team. Discontent goes with a misfit, and Depew told the Syracuse students that “misfits were everywhere and were always cheap.” It is doubtful if, upon the whole, there are in any walk in life such an unbroken line of splendid fits, the man to his duty and his clientage, as in the medical profession. It is not to be doubted that medical men, each to his location, his culture, his taste and his instincts, are better housed and clothed, more liberally supplied with the machinery of their technique, have greater demands on their purse in the interests of charity and reform which are duly met, have better educated families, have longer and more frequent opportunities for enjoyment which are not wasted, than can be counted item for item on the balance sheet of the average worker in any other profession or occupation. And these are the proofs of financial success, and they put aside the plaint that because the doctors do not “lay by at interest enough to live on” they are an ill-used class of men. The community pays liberally for being taken care of, and it ought to. The medical man’s entire time is taken up in acquiring the experience to exercise prompt judgment in emergencies, and this is precisely what the community pays for and is far from niggardly in the payment. Experience, needful to prompt judgment, is worth more than day’s wages or marginal profits, and this the community recognizes, and its estimate on the value of this experience is generally just. It may not be invariably accurate, but a doctor’s annual cash total is a very liberal estimate of what his individual experience is worth to the community. If the doctor does not “lay by at interest,” it is not because he does not receive enough, but because his relations to life make a free expenditure of money a necessity. He is at a certain disadvantage with a fair share of the people in being compelled to pay his debts. An excellent physician who is also a bohemian or with loose ideas as to honorable obligation, would be a nondescript. He is a fixture in the community with an open reputation, and it is proof of his liberal income that he is able to make and sustain that reputation. THE OPEN STREET-CAR WHISTLE.