Part 23 (1/2)

”'Well, why the d----l don't you go?' I said, impatiently.

”'Ah, gintlemen always come disguised to see Dr. A.--no--Dr. B., I mean.'

””Tis Dr. C. I asked for,' I interrupted.

”'Yis, yis,' he replied, collecting his muddled senses. 'Yis, sure, you did, an' gintlemen always swear--two signs yeze a gintleman. Could yeze spare a quarter for a poor divil? By the howly mither, I git narry a cint, bating what sich gintlemen as yeze gives me. I have a big family to ate at home. There's Bridget' (counting his fingers by the way of a reminder), 'she's sick with the baby; then there's the twins,--two of thim, as I'm a sinner,--and little lame Mike, what's got the rackabites, the doctor says--'

”'Got the what?' I interrupted.

”'The rackabites, or some sich dumbed disease,' he replied, scratching his head.

”'O, you mean rickets. But how old are the twins, and Mike, and the baby?'

”'Will, let me see. The baby is tin days, and not christened yit, for we've not got the money for Father Prince, and there's Mike is siven, and Mary is four, and Bridget junior is five.'

”'And the twins?' I asked, not a little amused.

”'Yis, them's Mary and Bridget junior,--four and five.'

”I interrupted him by a laugh, gave him the desired quarter, and told him to hasten the doctor, which request he proceeded to execute.

”On the heels of retiring Pat the door opened, and the same doctor I had before seen entered.

”'I want to consult Dr. C.,' I drawled out.

”'I am Dr. C.,' he replied, measuring me from head to foot sharply.

”Fearing he would penetrate my disguise, I hastened my errand. 'Having an ulcerated and painful tooth I wish removed, or--'

”'This ain't a dentist's office; but if you have any peculiar disease, I am the physician of all others to relieve you.'

”I being sure now of my man, that this same villain was running three offices under as many different _aliases_, my next object was to get safely out of his den.

”'I have no need of any such services as you intimate. 'Tis only the tooth--'

”Here he interrupted me by an impatient gesture, intimating that only a descendant of the monosyllable animal once chastised by one Balaam would have entered his office to have a tooth drawn. Admitting the truth of his a.s.sertion, and offering my humblest apology, I hurriedly withdrew from this _triplet_ doctor.

”Safely away, I reflected as follows: Here, now, is this scoundrel, by the a.s.sistance of an equally ignorant Irishman, conducting at least three offices on a public thoroughfare, under as many a.s.sumed names.

”'Why, the fellow is a perfect chameleon!' I exclaimed, walking away. 'He changes his name to suit the applicants to the various rooms. You want Dr.

A.,--he is that individual. You desire to see Dr. B.,--when, _presto!_ he is at once the identical man. And so it goes, while his amiable a.s.sistant seems to be making a nice little thing of it on his own account. Why all these intricate pa.s.sages? and why was I each time taken around through them, and out through a different door from that which I entered? Did a legitimate business require such mazy windings as I had just pa.s.sed through? Did Dr. A., B., or C., or whatever his name might be, rob his patients in one place and thrust them out at another, that they might not be able to testify where and by whom they had been victimized? Was not the newspaper proprietor who advertised these several offices a _particeps criminis_ in the transaction? And with these facts and suggestions I leave the fellow, who by no means is a solitary example of this sort of fraud.'”

On another street in this city is another branch from the Upas tree. I do not wish to advertise for him, hence omit his _names_, which are legion.

Two of them begin with the letter D. The true name of this impostor commences with an M. He is old enough to be better. I know of patients who have been fleeced by him without receiving the least benefit, when the knowledge necessary to prescribe for their recovery, or of so simple a case, might be possessed by even the office boy.

You go to his first office and inquire for the first _alias_. The usher, a boy sometimes, takes you in, and, slipping out the back door, he calls the old doctor from the next office. They are not connected. Through a gla.s.s door he takes a survey of you, to a.s.sure himself that you have not been victimized by him already under his other _aliases_.

If he so recognizes you, he summons a convenient ”a.s.sistant” to personate the doctor, and thus you are robbed a second time.

HISTORY OF A KNAVE.