disposed of some childish interruption; "and
now to th' application of the Therey: if the
poison can reduce the tin minutes interval to five
minutes, this pashint will die: and if I can get
the tin minutes up t' half an hour, this pashint
will live. Any way, jintlemen, we won't detain
y' unreasonably: the case shall be at an end by
one o'clock."

On hearing this considerate stipulation, up
went three women's aprons to their eyes.

"Alack! poor James Maxley! he is at his last
hour: it be just gone twelve, and a dies at
one."

Sampson turned on the weepers: "Who
says that, y' ijjits? I said the case would end
at one: a case ends when the pashint gets well,
or dies."

"Oh, that is good news for poor Susan
Maxley; her man is to be well by one o'clock,
Doctor says."

Sampson groaned, and gave in. He was
strong, but not strong enough to make the
populace suspend an opinion.

Yet it might be done: by chloroforming them.

The spasms came at longer intervals and less
violent: and Maxley got so fond of the essence
of Insensibility, that he asked to have some in
his own hand to apply at the first warning of
the horrible pains.

Sampson said, "Any fool can complete the
cure:" and, by way of practical comment, left
him in Mr. Osmond's charge: but with an
understanding that the treatment should not be
varied: that no laudanum should be given: but,
in due course, a stiff tumbler of brandy and
water; or two. "If he gets drunk, all the
better; a little intoxication weakens the body's
memory of the pain it has endured, and so
expedites the cure. Now off we go to th' other."

"The body's memory!" said Mr. Osmond to
himself: "what on earth does the Quack
mean?"

The driver, de jure, of the fly, was not quite
drunk enough to lose his horse and vehicle
without missing them. He was on the look out
for the robber, and, as Alfred came round the
corner full pelt, darted at the reins with a husky
remonstrance, and Alfred cut into him with the
whip: an angry explanation—a guinea—and
behold the driver sitting behind complacent,
and nodding.

Arrived at Albion Villa, Alfred asked Sampson
submissively if he might come in and see the
wife cured.

"Why of course," said Sampson, not knowing
the delicate position.

"Then ask me in before Mrs. Dodd,"
murmured Alfred, coaxingly.

"Oo, ay," said the Doctor, knowingly: "I
see."

Mrs. Maxley was in the dining-room: she had
got well of herself: but was crying bitterly, and
the ladies would not let her go home yet; they
feared the worst, and that some one would blurt
it out to her.

To this anxious trio entered Sampson ra-
diant: "There, it's all right. Come, little
Maxley, ye needn't cry, he has got lots more
mischief to do in the world yet: but, oh, wumman,
it is lucky you came to me and not to any
of the tinkering dox. No more cat and dog for
you and him, but for the Chronothairmal
Therey: and you may bless my puppy's four
bones too: he ran and stole a fly like a man, and
drove hilter-skilter: now, if I had got to your
house two minutes later, your Jamie would have
larned the great secret ere this." He threw up
the window. "Haw you! come away and
receive the applause due from beauty t' ajeelity."

Alfred came in timidly, and was received with
perfect benignity, and self-possession, by Mrs.
Dodd; but Julia's face was dyed with blushes,
and her eyes sparkled the eloquent praise she
was ashamed to speak before them all. But
such a face as hers scarce needed the help of a
voice at such a time. And, indeed, both the
lovers' faces were a pretty sight, and a study.
How they stole loving glances! but tried to
keep within bounds, and not steal more than
three per minute! and how unconscious they
endeavoured to look, the intervening seconds!
and what windows were the demure complacent
visages they thought they were making shutters
of! Innocent love has at least this advantage
over melodramatic, that it can extract exquisite
sweetness out of so small a thing. These
sweethearts were not alone, could not open their hearts,
must not even gaze too long; yet to be in the
same room even on such terms was a taste of
Heaven.

"But, oh, Doctor," said Mrs. Maxley, "are
you sure he is better?"

"He is out of danger, I tell ye."

"But, dear heart, ye don't tell me what he
ailed."

"Ma'am, if you had seen him you would have
said he was taken for death."

"Pray what is the complaint?" inquired Mrs.
Dodd.

"Oh, didn't I tell ye? poisoned."

This intelligence was conveyed with true
scientific calmness, and received with feminine
ejaculations of horror. Mrs. Maxley was
indignant into the bargain: " Don't ye go giving
my house an ill name! We keeps no poison."

Sampson fixed his eyes sternly on her:
"Wumman, ye know better: ye keep strychnine:
for th' use an delectation of your
domistic animal."

"Strychnine! I never heard tell of it. Is
that Latin for arsenic?"

"Now isn't 'this lamentable? Why arsenic
is a mital: strychnine a vigitable. N list me!
Your man was here seeking strychnine to poison
his mouse; a harmless, domistic, necessary
mouse: I told him mice were a part of Nature
as much as Maxleys, and life as sweet tit as
tim: but he was dif to sceintific and chrischin
preceps; so I told him to go to the Deevil:
'I will,' sis he, and went t'a docker. The two
assassins have poisoned the poor beastie between
em: and thin, been the greatest miser in the
world, except one, he will have roasted his
victim, and ate her on the sly, imprignated with