“Well, sure enough, she did wake up, and it was no halfway business, either--it was what you call a wide-awake sensation. The mustard began to heat her up, the emetic commenced business, the hot bricks got up steam--in fact, the skirmish commenced all along the line; but when the pill brigade made the charge, the engagement became general--the contest was hot and loud, and the drugs won the victory, and Miss Tadpoddle was saved--so completely cured that she never has been very ill since. My reputation as a first-class physician was then permanently established, because Miss Tadpoddle’s tongue was a better advertising medium than the New York Herald. She was president of the Tramp Reform Association; then she was a working member of many other benevolent associations. She made it her daily business to speak of my vigorous style of practice. I was certainly well prepared to treat any disease, because the experiments I had made on Miss Tadpoddle had enabled me to test the qualities of all the drugs known to the profession. “It was somewhere about ten days after my treatment of Miss Tadpoddle’s case when she again sent for me. I found her in bed--and when I say in bed, I mean it. She was not propped up with pillows, as she was when I first visited her, but she was flat on the bed. The truth is, I had so completely taken the starch out of her that she couldn’t sit up. “‘How do you feel this morning, Miss Tadpoddle?’ I inquired, pretending to be interested about her case. “‘Oh, I am so weak, doctor; but for that, I would be very well. I did not send for you with a view of taking more medicine--no, no, indeed! I don’t think I ever shall need any more as long as I live. I merely wished to speak with you about Miss Bramlett’s case. I presume that my brother has told you of the valuable assistance I have rendered him? Very well; I have something more to say to you on that subject. I fear you will find that Miss Bramlett is a very bad woman. I confess I never had much faith in her at first. She was too proud, too cold-hearted--made too much display with her money. She was parading the streets continually, pretending to be assisting the poor, but evidently trying to create a sensation. One day I met her at the Widow Spratt’s house, and would you believe it, sir, she was dressed within an inch of her life! She had on a blue silk dress, with real lace trimmings--and, by the by, that was the identical dress she wore that night when I saw her go into Ben Bowles’ apartments, through the private entrance that opens from the alley. But I am going too fast.--I was telling you about meeting Miss Bramlett at Widow Spratt’s. Well, sir, she was sitting on a low truckle-bed, feeding the baby with condensed milk. It was the dirtiest, sickliest-looking thing I ever laid eyes on; and the other five children were cramming themselves with cold bread and turkey that Miss Bramlett had given them; and they were covered with dirty rags, just like the baby. Mrs.