“These are very mild names compared with what I’ve heard him call them, declaring he would show the door to the first one who should ever come round him with their two goblets, two spoons, two little plates for covers, and one pill dissolved in a hogshead of water, half a drop to be taken once in six hours! That’s the way he talked, submitting to any amount of blistering, bleeding, drugging, and torturing, and thinking it felt nice. But I’ve played him a trick which will do him good for the remainder of his natural life. “When I came home last night from Mr. Randall’s, I found him groaning, sweating, and almost swearing with the colic, brought on by too much fruit at dinner, followed by two saucers of cream. He never was in such pain in his life; he should die, he knew he should; and somebody must go for the doctor. Of course every servant was out of sight and hearing, and so I went myself for Dr. Lincoln, who was off in the country miles away, and would not be home for hours. Here was a dilemma; and as I was wondering what to do next, I saw that paragon of M.D.’s, Dr. West, coming down the street. Instantly my decision was made; and looking as anxious as I could, I accosted him at once, begging him to go and prescribe for my father, Judge Verner. He looked at me a little curiously, but acceded to my request, and in less than five minutes I had ushered him into the room, where father was enacting a round of _colicky_ gymnastics, and where Bell looked up in wonder, actually starting to her feet when I introduced _Dr. West_. “‘Dr. Lincoln was gone, and I brought this one,’ I whispered to father, who was in too much pain to notice particularly, and who thought it Dr. Lincoln’s student. “‘I shall need some water, a spoon, and two goblets,’ the doctor said, and I hastened to execute the orders, watching father as the stirring process went on, and almost screaming when he swallowed the first spoonful. “‘I’m afraid it ain’t strong enough, doctor. It hasn’t much taste,’ he said, smacking his lips, as he missed the flavor of Dr. Lincoln’s bottles. “‘We’ll see what effect it has,’ was the doctor’s reply; and in a few moments down went another drop of the sweetened water; then another, and another, until the groaning and flouncing ceased, and father lay upon his pillow as well-behaved a patient as one would wish to see. “He was very quiet, and after waiting half an hour the doctor said he did not think he was needed any longer, and would leave. “‘Should the paroxysms return,’ he said to Bell, ‘give him six of these pills,’ and he placed upon the table a tiny phial, which at once caught father’s eye and set him to raving like a madman. “‘Bell! Jessie!’ he gasped, as the gate closed after the doctor, ‘who was that chap?—what persuasion, I mean? Was he a rascally—’ “He was in too great a rage to say the words, and so I said it for him. “‘He was a homœopathist, father. Didn’t he help you quick? You never groaned a groan after the third swallow.’