of Mr. Graves and Mr. Slaymore. The latter of these gentlemen, with whom
Master Potts is situated, dispenses health from a private surgery; the
former from a more public establishment. The difference in point of
grade between these two disciples of Galen is very plainly discernible
even in their dependants, the two Children of the Mobility now before
us. The uniform of Master Scales is much less aristocratic, and
much less professional also, than that of Master Potts, who looks,
particularly about the feet and legs, as if he had been intended by
Nature for a licentiate of the Society of Apothecaries, rather than for
the servant of one.
Mr. Graves and Mr. Slaymore being two out of half-a-dozen medical men
residing in the same street, their young auxiliaries are in the habit of
coming frequently in contact, and dialogues of a characteristic
nature often take place, on these occasions, between them. We hope the
following colloquy may seem less in need of abbreviation to the reader
than it might be to a patient dependent on its termination for his dose
of calomel.
"Hallo! old feller, where are you off to in sitch a hurry?" The querist
was Master Scales, who in sauntering along the neighbouring square was
passed by Master Potts, walking at a rapid pace, with his salutiferous
burden upon his arm.
"Hallo!" replied Master Potts; and turning round he beheld his young
acquaintance, Tom. "Well, young stick-in-the-mud!"
"I say, who's got the cholera, to make you stir your stumps like that
'ere?"
"Who do you think?--Mrs. Walker."
"Gammon! What's up tell us."
"Why it's the old gal at 42; she 's precious bad, I can tell yer."
"What's got her then? I see her the day 'fore yesterday, lookin' all
right enough."
"Paralatic--least that's what maws'r says 'tis. He 'll be precious wild
if she dies. My eye what a lot o' bottles I've a-took there! I warrand
you ain't got sitch a good un!"
"Ain't we though; there's a old chap we've got from the East Ingies, as
I'd back agin her any day."
"What! that old cove with the gamboge sneezer and swivel eye?"
"Aye; he've a-had the dropsy the last three months. Just haven't the
guv'ner stuck it into im!"
"Look there, whose black job is that goin' along close by old
Punch,--your guv'ner's?"
"Over the left--Come, I say, don't be orf jist yet."
"Must. I'm in for it as 'tis."
"No, no. Here! I 'll toss yer for a pint." As he made this offer, Master
Scales deposited his basket on the pavement, and produced a halfpenny.
"Well, come, be quick then! Now! Heads, I win; tails, you lose."
"Heads! Heads 'tis!
"Come, I say, Master Ben, give us my change, will yer."
"Take your change out of that!" So saying, and suiting an appropriate
action to the word, Master Potts turned rapidly on his heel; and before
his professional brother could pack up his _materia medica_ from the
ground, had turned a corner and was out of sight.
Delays are proverbially said to be dangerous; and equally well-known
is the maxim which recommends the attacking of a disease at its onset.
Leaving our readers, according to their medical opinions, to calculate
the damage, or estimate the good which the patients of Messieurs Graves
and Slaymore derived from the amusements of their young subsidiaries,
we shall now conclude our notice of those personages, and therewith,
our labours. We hope that we have acquitted ourselves in a satisfactory
manner; but in criticising the foregoing pages, let the fact be borne in
mind, that it is very difficult to render the children of the Mobility
_interesting_. It is easy to make a silk purse out of a proper material;
but there is a substance from which it is impossible to construct
it. Shall we be pardoned by the superior classes for thus distantly
referring to a plebeian saying! Would we had had some nobler, some more
inspiring theme! Such, Reader, had they not been already so _fairlie
done_, we should have found in the Children of the Nobility.
FINIS.