of castor-oil and an empty pill-box on the table by the bedside added a
little local colour to the scene.

"Any pain?" inquired the doctor, after an examination in which bony and
very cold fingers had played a prominent part.

"Not much pain," said Mr. Scutts. "Don't seem to have no strength in my
back."

"Ah!" said the doctor.

"I tried to get up this morning to go to my work," said Mr. Scutts, "but
I can't stand! couldn't get out of bed."

"Fearfully upset, he was, pore dear," testified Mrs. Scutts. "He can't
bear losing a day. I s'pose--I s'pose the railway company will 'ave to
do something if it's serious, won't they, sir?"

"Nothing to do with me," said the doctor. "I'll put him on the club for
a few days; I expect he will be all right soon. He's got a healthy
colour--a very healthy colour."

Mr. Scutts waited until he had left the house and then made a few
remarks on the colour question that for impurity of English and strength
of diction have probably never been surpassed.

A second visitor that day came after dinner--a tall man in a frock-coat,
bearing in his hand a silk hat, which, after a careful survey of the
room, he hung on a knob of the bedpost.