We intimated that "patent medicines" had added greatly to the trade. This we shall treat of under its proper head. Many have arisen from penury to affluence, from obscurity to renown, in the drug trade of later years; but take away the tobacco trade, the soda fountain, and the outside patent nostrums, and wherein would the apothecary now differ from his predecessors? "The Yankees bate the divil for swallowing drugs," said an Irishman. "A paddy will take nothing but castor oil," replied the Yankee. Yankee or Irish, English or Scotch, French or German, they all rush to the drug store for pills, for powder, for whiskey (?), for tobacco, for patent medicines, and the druggists flourish. From the window near which I write this, I overlook a wholesale drug store on a "retail street." The front windows contain only _patent medicines_, and the flashy signs that announce their virtues. Few prescriptions are dispensed within. Before the door, piled nearly a story high, I have just counted ninety-eight boxes, and some barrels. There are hundreds of these drug houses scattered over this city; and every other city of America has its quota. Yes, the Irishman had the right of it; "the Yankees _do_ bate the divil for swallowing drugs." Further, it is my positive opinion that his infernal majesty beats a good many of them by the encouragement of their purchase; and, kind reader, if you have the ghost of a doubt of the truth of our intimation, don't, I pray, promulgate it, but, like a wise judge, withhold your decision until the evidence is in; until you hear our exposition of "patent medicines." A patient comes to the city for the purpose of consulting some experienced physician for a certain complaint. Probably he gets a prescription, with instructions to go to a certain respectable druggist or apothecary in town to have the necessary medicines put up. Of course a respectable physician knows of a reliable apothecary. The patient, in nine cases out of ten, desires to retain the prescription, and often does so. He goes to another drug store, more convenient, for a second quantity of the same; and now let me ask the patient,--no matter who or where he is,--did you ever get the same kind of medicine, in _look_, color, quantity, and taste,--all,--the second time, from the same prescription? I have often heard the patient complain that he could not get the same put up at the very store where he got the original prescription compounded. I once was called to visit a lady who was laboring under great prostration; "sickness at the stomach," with constipation. "What is the disease?" inquired the anxious husband, who had previously employed two regular physicians for the case, and discharged them both. "Nux vomica," was the reply. I gathered up three of the vials on the table, and, taking them to the designated apothecary's, I demanded the prescriptions corresponding with the numbers on the vials. These were duplicates.