The Stark Munro Letters: Being series of twelve letters written by J. Stark Munro, M.B., to his friend and former fellow-student, Herbert Swanborough, of Lowell, Massachusetts, during the years 1881-1884Doyle, Arthur Conan
General
The Stark Munro Letters: Being series of twelve letters written by J. Stark Munro, M.B., to his friend and former fellow-student, Herbert Swanborough, of Lowell, Massachusetts, during the years 1881-1884
Doyle, Arthur Conan
Epistolary fiction
“There are one or two elementary rules to be observed in the way of
handling patients,” he remarked, seating himself on the table and
swinging his legs. “The most obvious is that you must never let them see
that you want them. It should be pure condescension on your part seeing
them at all; and the more difficulties you throw in the way of it, the
more they think of it. Break your patients in early, and keep them well
to heel. Never make the fatal mistake of being polite to them. Many
foolish young men fall into this habit, and are ruined in consequence.
Now, this is my form”--he sprang to the door, and putting his two hands
to his mouth he bellowed: “Stop your confounded jabbering down there! I
might as well be living above a poultry show! There, you see,” he added
to me, “they will think ever so much more of me for that.”
“But don’t they get offended?” I asked.
“I’m afraid not. I have a name for this sort of thing now, and they have
come to expect it. But an offended patient--I mean a thoroughly insulted
one--is the finest advertisement in the world. If it is a woman,
she runs clacking about among her friends until your name becomes a
household word, and they all pretend to sympathise with her, and
agree among themselves that you must be a remarkably discerning man. I
quarrelled with one man about the state of his gall duct, and it ended
by my throwing him down the stairs. What was the result? He talked so
much about it that the whole village from which he came, sick and
well, trooped to see me. The little country practitioner who had been
buttering them up for a quarter of a century found that he might as well
put up his shutters. It’s human nature, my boy, and you can’t alter it.
Eh, what? You make yourself cheap and you become cheap. You put a high
price on yourself and they rate you at that price. Suppose I set up in
Harley Street to-morrow, and made it all nice and easy, with hours from
ten to three, do you think I should get a patient? I might starve first.
How would I work it? I should let it be known that I only saw patients
from midnight until two in the morning, and that bald-headed people
must pay double. That would set people talking, their curiosity would
be stimulated, and in four months the street would be blocked all night.
Eh, what? laddie, you’d go yourself. That’s my principle here. I often
come in of a morning and send them all about their business, tell them
I’m going off to the country for a day. I turn away forty pounds, and
it’s worth four hundred as an advertisement!”
“But I understood from the plate that the consultations were gratis.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account