went to Moon, whom half the town was then mad about. Moon was
interested in the case; to do him justice he was very much
interested in the case; and he said, ‘Kidneys!’ He altered the
whole treatment, sir – gave strong acids, cupped, and blistered.
This went on, our bore still getting worse every day, until he
openly told Moon it would be a satisfaction to him if he would have
a consultation with Clatter. The moment Clatter saw our bore, he
said, ‘Accumulation of fat about the heart!’ Snugglewood, who was
called in with him, differed, and said, ‘Brain!’ But, what they
all agreed upon was, to lay our bore upon his back, to shave his
head, to leech him, to administer enormous quantities of medicine,
and to keep him low; so that he was reduced to a mere shadow, you
wouldn’t have known him, and nobody considered it possible that he
could ever recover. This was his condition, sir, when he heard of
Jilkins – at that period in a very small practice, and living in
the upper part of a house in Great Portland Street; but still, you
understand, with a rising reputation among the few people to whom
he was known. Being in that condition in which a drowning man
catches at a straw, our bore sent for Jilkins. Jilkins came. Our
bore liked his eye, and said, ‘Mr. Jilkins, I have a presentiment
that you will do me good.’ Jilkins’s reply was characteristic of
the man. It was, ‘Sir, I mean to do you good.’ This confirmed our
bore’s opinion of his eye, and they went into the case together –
went completely into it. Jilkins then got up, walked across the
room, came back, and sat down. His words were these. ‘You have
been humbugged. This is a case of indigestion, occasioned by
deficiency of power in the Stomach. Take a mutton chop in half-anhour,
with a glass of the finest old sherry that can be got for
money. Take two mutton chops to-morrow, and two glasses of the
finest old sherry. Next day, I’ll come again.’ In a week our bore
was on his legs, and Jilkins’s success dates from that period!
Our bore is great in secret information. He happens to know many
things that nobody else knows. He can generally tell you where the
split is in the Ministry; he knows a great deal about the Queen;
and has little anecdotes to relate of the royal nursery. He gives
you the judge’s private opinion of Sludge the murderer, and his
thoughts when he tried him. He happens to know what such a man got
by such a transaction, and it was fifteen thousand five hundred
pounds, and his income is twelve thousand a year. Our bore is also
great in mystery. He believes, with an exasperating appearance of
profound meaning, that you saw Parkins last Sunday? – Yes, you did.
– Did he say anything particular? – No, nothing particular. – Our
bore is surprised at that. – Why? – Nothing. Only he understood
that Parkins had come to tell you something. – What about? – Well!
our bore is not at liberty to mention what about. But, he believes
you will hear that from Parkins himself, soon, and he hopes it may
not surprise you as it did him. Perhaps, however, you never heard
about Parkins’s wife’s sister? – No. – Ah! says our bore, that
explains it!
Our bore is also great in argument. He infinitely enjoys a long
humdrum, drowsy interchange of words of dispute about nothing. He
considers that it strengthens the mind, consequently, he ‘don’t see
that,’ very often. Or, he would be glad to know what you mean by
that. Or, he doubts that. Or, he has always understood exactly
the reverse of that. Or, he can’t admit that. Or, he begs to deny
that. Or, surely you don’t mean that. And so on. He once advised
us; offered us a piece of advice, after the fact, totally
impracticable and wholly impossible of acceptance, because it
supposed the fact, then eternally disposed of, to be yet in
abeyance. It was a dozen years ago, and to this hour our bore