hand in half a dozen places. While he was using several quite profane
phrases, I caught his hand and said, "I am a surgeon," and tied my
handkerchief around the bleeding palm.

The guardian of manners said, "I hope you are not much hurt, but there
was no reason why you should swear."

On this my patient said, "Go to ----," which silenced the monitor.

I explained to the wounded man that the cuts should be looked after at
once. The matter was arranged by our leaving the 'bus, and, as the rain
had let up, walking to his house. This was a large and quite luxurious
dwelling on Fourth street. There I cared for his wounds, which, as I had
informed him, required immediate attention. It was at this time summer,
and his wife and niece, the only other members of his family, were
absent. On my second visit I made believe to remove some splinters of
glass which I brought with me. He said they showed how shamefully thin
was that omnibus window-pane. To my surprise, my patient, at the end of
the month,--for one wound was long in healing,--presented me with one
hundred dollars. This paid my small rental, and as Mr. Poynter allowed
me to refer to him, I was able to get a better office and bedroom on
Spruce street. I saw no more of my patient until winter, although I
learned that he was a stock-broker, not in the very best repute, but of
a well-known family.

Meanwhile my move had been of small use. I was wise enough, however, to
keep up my connection with my former clients, and contrived to live. It
was no more than that. One day in December I was overjoyed to see
Mr. Poynter enter. He was a fat man, very pale, and never, to my
remembrance, without a permanent smile. He had very civil ways, and now