Part 74 (1/2)

”_Except drinking and eating_, my lord.”

The council retired, greatly disappointed, for they had expected to worm some important secret from the doctor.

At Finch Lane Tavern, where Dr. Beauford used to receive the apothecaries at half fee, he was represented as sitting over his bottles and gla.s.ses, from which he drank deeply, never offering one of his clients a drop, though they often sat opposite, at the same table, looking with anxious countenances and watering mouths upon the tempting cordials, as the doctor tossed them off.

”DOORN'T GO TO 'IM,” ETC.

”Not many years since, in a fis.h.i.+ng village on the eastern coast, there flourished a doctor in great repute amongst the poor, and his influence over the humble patients literally depended on the fact that he was sure, once in the twenty-four hours, to be handsomely intoxicated.

”d.i.c.kens has told us how, when he bought the raven immortalized in 'Barnaby Rudge,' the vender of that sagacious bird, after enumerating his various accomplishments, said, in conclusion,--

”'But, sir, if you want him to come out strong, you must show him a man drunk.'

”The simple villagers of Flintbeach had a firm faith in the strengthening effect of looking at a tipsy doctor. They usually postponed their visits to Dr. Mutchkins till evening, because they then had the benefit of the learned man in his highest intellectual condition.

”'Doorn't go to 'im i' the morning; he can't doctor no ways to speak on till he's had a gla.s.s,' was the advice usually given to strangers not aware of the doctor's little peculiarities.”

DR. BUTLER'S BEER AND BATH.

An amusing description is given of one Dr. Butler, of London, who, like the above, used to get drunk nightly. He was the inventor of a beer which bore his name, something like our Ottawa, ”with a stick in it,” by one Dr.

Irish. We once saw a drunken fellow holding on to a lamp post, while he held out one hand, and was arguing with an imaginary policeman that he was not drunk,--only had been taking a ”little of that--hic--beverage, Dr.

Waterwa's Irish beer, by the advice of his physician.”

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”ONLY IRISH BEER.”]

Dr. Butler had an old female servant named Nell Boler. At ten o'clock, nightly, she used to go to the tavern where the doctor was, by that hour, too drunk to go home alone, when, after some argument and a deal of scolding from Nell for his ”beastly drunkenness,” she would carry the inebriated doctor home, and put him to bed.

”Notwithstanding that Dr. Butler was fond of beer and wine for himself, he was said to approve of water for his patients. Once he occupied rooms bordering on the Thames. A gentleman afflicted by the ague came to see him. Butler tipped the wink to his a.s.sistant, who tumbled the invalid out of the window, slap into the river. We are asked to believe that the surprise actually cured the patient of his disease.”

[Ill.u.s.tration: CURE FOR THE AGUE.]

Water did not cure the doctor, however, but beer did.

Dr. Burrowly was stricken down in his prime, and just as he was about to succeed to the most elevated position in the medical profession.

The doctor was a politician, as well as an excellent surgeon. When Lords Gower and Vandeput were contesting the election for Westminster, in 1780, the doctor was supporting the latter. One Weatherly, who kept a tavern, and whose wife wore the ---- belt, was very sick. Mrs. Weatherly deeply regretted the fact of the sickness, as she wanted her husband to vote for Lord T. Late on election day, Dr. Burrowly called round to see his patient, quite willing that he should be sufficiently sick to keep him from going to the polls. To his surprise he found him up, and dressed.

”Heyday! how's this?” exclaimed the doctor, in anger. ”Why are you up, without my permission?”

”O, doctor,” replied Joe Weatherly, feebly, ”I am going to vote.”

”Vote!” roared the doctor, not doubting that his wife had urged him to attempt to go to the polls to vote for Lord J. ”To bed. The cold air would kill you. To bed instantly, or you're a dead man before nightfall.”

”I'll do as you say, doctor; but as my wife was away, I thought I could get as far as Covent Garden Church, and vote for Sir George Vandeput.”

”For Sir George, did you say, Joe?”

”O, yes, sir; I don't agree with my wife. She's for Lord Trentham.”