it in the end. It is one of the absurd vagaries of the profession to
discountenance the practice I have described, but I wish, for my part,
I had never done anything more foolish or more dangerous. Of course it
inclines a doctor to change his medicines a good deal, and to order them
in large quantities, which is occasionally annoying to the poor; yet, as
I have always observed, there is no poverty as painful as your own, so
that I prefer to distribute pecuniary suffering among many rather than
to concentrate it on myself. That's a rather neat phrase.

About six months after the date of this annoying adventure, an
incident occurred which altered somewhat, and for a time improved, my
professional position. During my morning office-hour an old woman came
in, and putting down a large basket, wiped her face with a yellow-cotton
handkerchief, and afterwards with the corner of her apron. Then she
looked around uneasily, got up, settled her basket on her arm with a
jerk which may have decided the future of an egg or two, and remarked
briskly: "Don't see no little bottles about; got the wrong stall, I
guess. You ain't no homeopath doctor, are you?"

With great presence of mind, I replied: "Well, ma'am, that depends upon
what you want. Some of my patients like one, and some like the other."
I was about to add, "You pay your money and you take your choice,"
but thought better of it, and held my peace, refraining from classical
quotation.

"Being as that's the case," said the old lady, "I'll just tell you my
symptoms. You said you give either kind of medicine, didn't you?"

"Just so," replied I.