"That's
what you mean. Be quick. Give me that thermometer and the
tumbler, and when I come down again, I reckon you can fit her
out with a prescription just as good as anybody."
He hurried away, and I sat down to consider. I was full of
ambition, full of enthusiasm for the practice of my profession.
I would have been willing to pay largely for the privilege
of undertaking an important case by myself, in which it would
depend upon me whether or not I should call in a consulting
brother. So far, in the cases I had undertaken, a consulting
brother had always called himself in--that is, I had practised in
hospitals or with my uncle. Perhaps it might be found necessary,
notwithstanding all that had been said against me, that I should
go up to take charge of this case. I wished I had not forgotten
to ask the old man how he had found the tongue and pulse.
In less than a quarter of an hour Uncle Beamish returned.
"Well," said I, quickly, "what are the symptoms?"
"I'll give them to you," said he, taking his seat. "I'm not
in such a hurry now, because I told the old woman I would like to
wait a little and see how that fust medicine acted. The patient
spoke to me this time. When I took the thermometer out of her
mouth she says, `You are comin' up ag'in, doctor?' speakin' low
and quickish, as if she wanted nobody but me to hear."
"But how about the symptoms?" said I, impatiently.
"Well," he answered, "in the fust place her temperature is
ninety-eight and a half, and that's about nat'ral, I take it.
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