His orders were obeyed. The landau was upset in a ditch, and the young lady appeared screaming at the window to be extricated. "No more apathy now," said Budd; and sent her home cured.
Budd, with all his roughness, was a kind-hearted and liberal man. His surgery was at the "Cottage," in Westwell Street, and thousands streamed there every year full of implicit faith in Budd's powers. A child was one day brought to the "Cottage," a puny little sufferer. The Doctor, with his quick eye, saw that the case was critical; and although this was a free patient, he immediately had it sent to his own home in Princess Square, with strict orders that it was to be well fed and cared for; and it remained there for several days under his care without fee or reward.
A tradesman in Plymouth, living not long ago and in good circumstances, was at that time a man of straitened means. He was attacked by Asiatic cholera. Dr. Budd was called in, and saw that the case was severe and required every care; and he attended morning, noon, and night on some days almost hourly for a fortnight or three weeks, and at last the patient was cured. Then, with trembling lips, he asked Dr. Budd for his bill, thinking he would have to pay thirty or forty pounds. The Doctor replied: "You are a struggling tradesman, and cannot afford to pay much; if you cannot rake together five pounds, pay me what you can."
A girl suffering from S. Vitus's dance was brought to him. He looked hard at her. "Humph! Every time you make one of those jerks, I'll force you to kiss me," said the Doctor. This succeeded—for, according to the general opinion, Dr. Budd was " mortal ugly."
A boy patient was fencing with his questions. Budd put the poker in the fire, and when it was red-hot took