The surgeon, who like most of us see strange things, was puzzled to make out his new patient, but concluded that he was one of the many who, having been born to better things, had become reduced by misfortune to these apparently very narrow circumstances. Accordingly, having prescribed, the surgeon was about taking his leave, when the gentleman said,-- "Sir, I thank you very much for your attention," at the same time offering his hand with a fee. The benevolent surgeon declined the fee, simply saying,-- "No, I thank you, sir. I hope you will soon be better. Good morning." "Stay, sir!" exclaimed the old gentleman. "I shall insist on this, if you please," in a tone which at once convinced the surgeon that it would be more painful to refuse than accept the fee; he accordingly took it. "I am very much obliged to you, sir," the old gentleman then said; "for had you not taken your fee I could not have again had the advantage of your advice. I sent for you because I had understood that you were a pupil of Dr. Abernethy's, for whom I could not again send, _because he would not take his fee_, and I was so hurt that I am afraid I was rude to the good man. I suppose he, judging from the appearances of things here, thought I could not afford it, hence refused the fee, on which I begged him not to be deceived by appearances, but take the fee. However, he kept retreating and declining, till, forgetting myself a little, and feeling vexed, I said, 'By G----, sir, I insist on your taking it,' when he replied as fiercely, 'By G----, sir, I will not,' and hastily left the room, closing the door after him." This gentleman lived to the age of ninety. He was really in very good circumstances, but lived in this humble manner to enable him to assist very efficiently some poor relatives. The surgeon, after a while, changed his professional visits to friendly ones, and continued them up to the old man's death. When, however, the gentleman died, about four hundred guineas were found in his boxes. Sometimes Dr. Abernethy would meet with a patient who would afford a useful lesson. A lady, wife of a distinguished musician, consulted him, and, finding him uncourteous, said,-- "Sir, I had heard of your rudeness before I came, but I did not expect this." When Dr. Abernethy gave her the prescription, she asked,-- "What am I to do with this, sir?" "Anything you like. Put it into the fire if you choose." The lady laid the fee on the table, went to the grate, threw the prescription on to the fire, and hastily left the room. The doctor followed her to the hall, earnestly pressing her to take back the fee, or permit him to write her another prescription; but the lady would not yield her vantage-ground, and so withdrew. The foregoing is well authenticated. Mr. Stowe, the informant, knows the lady well. [Illustration: AN ECCENTRIC PATIENT.] [Illustration: A WOMAN'S REBUKE.] THE OLD FOX-HUNTER. Sometimes, again, the ill usage was all on one side.