"As my credit was at stake, an old and very grave man was, at my suggestion, added to the consultation, to guard our reputation from the usual visitation of gossiping slander that always follows a fatal result in the country. He examined the child, and gave his opinion that the symptoms resembled those of ipecac!... But death was ahead of the doctors, and the little sufferer passed quickly away to a better world. "Another child had died in the vicinity, and the _neighbors_ decided on a change of doctors for the lady. By my consent the inventor of the 'Chingvang Pill' was called, as I assured my friend his wife would now recover without either of us! "He came, and readily detected the fact that he was in luck. His patient and fees were both safe, and I was floored. "'Of course, Dr. R., you will call when _convenient_,' was a polite way of 'letting me down easily,' and I did call. "Everything went on swimmingly for two days, when suddenly the scale turned; two other children were taken vomiting bile and blood. The doctor was in trouble, and on my friendly call his eye caught mine, and spoke plainly, 'My credit, too, is gone,--the children will both die.' "The children grew rapidly worse; the council of the _neighborhood_ decided to call further aid. Another regular was called, and, being one of the heroes, he advised (it is solemn truth, dear reader) _one hundred grains of calomel at a dose_! His reason was, that he had given it to a child, and the patient recovered. His medical brother thought it a little too steep, and they compromised the matter by giving fifty grains! Copious quantities of fresh blood followed the operation, and the little victim of disease and quackery slipped from his suffering into the peaceful and quiet grave! "One patient remained, and it was decided to call further counsel. "A simple but shrewd old quack was curing cancers in the neighborhood, who sent word to the afflicted family that he 'could cure the remaining child by cleansing the bowels with pills of butternut bark, aloes, camphor, and Cayenne pepper;' he would feed the little fellow on twist-root tea that would at once stop the discharges. Strange as it may seem, the wily old fool was called into the august presence of three M. D.'s, and a score of other counsellors. He gave his pills; fresh blood followed the raking over the inflamed and sensitive membrane; the child screamed with torture, and was only relieved from its horrible agony by enemas of morphine. The celebrated '_twist-root_' (an Indian remedy, whose virtues could not be appreciated by the educated physician) followed, and death closed the scene. "The old cancer-killer escaped by saying the morphine given in his absence _killed the child_." [Illustration: 'OPATHISTS IN CONSULTATION.] The following brief consultation occurred in Fulton, N. Y., recently:-- Two physicians were called, of opposite schools. After shaking hands over the sick man's bed, one said to the other,--