at a patient and pompously sum up his case in an instant, often making mistakes.
One afternoon a tired-looking man called and asked for treatment. The doctor looked at his tongue, felt of his pulse, knocked on his chest, and began:
"Same old story, my friend. Men can't live without fresh air. No use trying it. I could make myself a corpse, like you are doing by degrees, if I sat down in my office and didn't stir. You must have fresh air; you must take long walks, and brace up by staying out doors. Now I could make a drug-store of you, and you would think I was a smart man, but my advice to you is to walk, walk, walk."
"But, doctor"
"That's right. Argue the question. That's my reward. Of course you know all about my business. Now, will you take my advice? Take long walks every day, several times a day, and get your blood in circulation."
"I do walk, doctor. I"
"Of course you do walk. I know that; but walk more. Walk ten times as much as you do now. That will cure you."
"But my business"
"Of course, your business prevents it. Change your business, so that you have to walk more. What is your business?"
"I'm a letter-carrier."
"My friend," said the doctor, almost paralyzed, "permit me to once more examine your tongue." And then he handed him a box of pills, with directions to take "one pill five times a day."
