Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/492

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whom Mr. Bob Sawyer immediately hailed with, " Tom, you vagabond, come here."

The boy presented himself accordingly.

scamp " said Mr. Bob Sawyer.
 * ' You've been stopping to over all the posts in Bristol, you idle young


 * ' No, Sir, I haven't," replied the boy.

" You had better not I " said Mr. Bob Sawyer, with a threatening aspect. " Who do you suppose will ever employ a professional man, when they see his boy playing at marbles in the gutter, or flying the garter in the horse-road? Have you no feeling for your profession, you groveller? Did you leave all the medicine ?" " Yes, Sir."

" The powders for the child, at the large house with the new family, and the pills to be taken four times a day at the ill-tempered old gentle- man's with the gouty leg ? " " Yes, Sir."

" Then shut the door, and mind the shop."

" Come," said Mr. Winkle, as the boy retired, " things are not quite ho had as you would have me believe, either. There is some medicine to be sent out."

Mr. Bob Sawyer peeped into the shop to see that no stranger was within hearing, and leaning forward to Mr. Winkle, said, in a low tone —

" He leaves it all at the wrong houses."

Mr. Winkle looked perplexed, and Bob Sawyer and his friend laughed.

" Don't you see?" said Bob; " he goes up to a house, rings the area bell, pokes a packet of medicine without a direction into the servant's hand, and walks off. Servant takes it into the dining-parlour ; master opens it, and reads the label, * Draught to be taken at bedtime — pills as before — lotion as usual — the powder. From Sawyer's, late Nock- emorf's. Physicians' prescriptions carefully prepared :' and all the rest of it. Shows it to his wife — she reads the label ; it goes down to the servants — ihei/ read the label. Next day the boy calls: * Very sorry — his mistake — immense business — great many parcels to deliver — Mr. Sawyer's compliments — ^late Nockemorf.' The name gets known, and that 's the thing, my boy, in the medical way ; bless your heart, old fellow, it 's better than all the advertising in the world. We have got one four-ounce bottle that 's been to half the houses in Bristol, and hasn't done yet."

" Dear me, I see," observed Mr. Winkle; "what an excellent plan!" <' Oh, Ben and I have hit upon a dozen such," replied Bob Sawyer, with great glee. *' The lamplighter has eighteen-pence a week to pull the night-bell for ten minutes, every time he comes round ; and my boy always rushes into church just before the psalms, when the people have got nothing to do but look about 'em, and calls me out, with horror and dismay depicted on his countenance. * Bless my soul/ every body says, * somebody taken suddenly ill ! Sawyer, late Nockemorf, sent for. What a business that young man has !'"