Page:Twenty-one Days in India.djvu/161

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149

No. XVI.

THE CIVIL SURGEON.




"Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it."




Perhaps you would hardly guess from his appearance and ways that he was a surgeon and a medicine-man. He certainly does not smell of lavender or peppermint, or display fine and curious linen, or tread softly like a cat. Contrariwise.

He smells of tobacco, and wears flannel underclothing. His step is heavy. He is a gross, big, cow-buffalo sort of man, with a