85; and the publicans said, "Drink, boys,
drink; the subscription will cover all; it is up to L. 120 already." The
subscription money was swallowed with the rest, and the Anglo-Saxon
heroes hauled to prison.
Doctor Phillips, aged seventy-four, warned by growing infirmities, had
sold a tidy practice, with house, furniture, and good-will, for a fair
price, and put it in the bank, awaiting some investment. The money was
gone now, and the poor old doctor, with a wife and daughter and a crutch,
was at once a pauper and an exile: for he had sold under the usual
condition, not to practise within so many miles of his successor. He went
to that successor, and begged permission to be his assistant at a small,
small salary. "I want a younger man," was the reply. Then he went round
to his old patients, and begged a few half-guineas to get him a horse and
chaise and keep him over the first month in his new place. They pitied
him, but most of them were sufferers too by Hardie, and all they gave him
did but buy a donkey and cart; and with that he and his went slowly and
sadly to a village ten miles distant from the place where all his life
had been spent in comfort and good credit.
Pages:
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532