This looked interesting, so we examined the other bottles and discovered that the hundred and forty-four bottles contained a hundred and forty-four preparations—all guaranteed different—which “cured” a hundred and forty-four diseases! But the odd thing about it was, we had never before heard of any of the drugs, nor did we know half the diseases which these wonderful drugs cured. There was one bottle to cure “humours” of the face. What on earth are they? We cannot rise to this. But there is a drawer underneath. Let us open it and see what it contains. More bottles! Bigger ones this time. One, we see, contains tincture of arnica—guaranteed to remove all effects of “injuries, bruises, and inflammations.” This is coming it too strong! We know tincture of arnica, and we know that some people have an idea that it does something or other to relieve bruises—an idea which we do not share. But to say it removes all effects of injuries, bruises (we should have thought that these might have been included under the former term), and inflammations—well, we live and learn. There were five other bottles in this drawer. And then there was a pair of scissors. What can they be for? But then we found a roll of sticking plaster, and the mystery was cleared up at once. This is intended for the surgical part of the box. Fancy a surgery containing six bottles, a pair of scissors, and a roll of plaster! And quite enough too, if one of the bottles contains a balm which will remove all effects of injuries and inflammations. But then what is the good of the other five bottles, the pair of scissors and the plaster? “What do you think of my box?” asked the chemist when we had finished our exploration. “How much do you think that cost?” “Dear me, man, you don’t mean to say you bought that?” “No,” he replied, “I didn’t. It was sent to me as an advertisement. They are selling them at £5 5s. a-piece, and they asked me to take a dozen and try to dispose of them. What would you do if you were in my place?” “Well,” we replied, “we would empty the bottles, clean them, and use them for better purposes, as they may be required, and the box you might give to your daughter as a workbox.” But another person standing near was not disposed to think so lightly of the matter, and told the chemist that he ought to telegraph at once to the people who had had the impertinence to send a respectable chemist such a concern, saying, “If you do not remove your rubbish within twenty-four hours, I’ll sue you for warehouse room.” These homœopathic cases are very popular, and many persons buy them thinking that they can do what they pretend to do. We cannot warn you too strongly against purchasing these things. Avoid them as you would poison. No, we do not mean to be taken literally. There are no poisons in these chests. We have a law which prevents the indiscriminate sale of poison. Now let us describe _our_ medicine chest. Oh, let us see what we want it for before we fit it up.