sea-bird.

I had been assured by my medical agent, Mr. Turcival, that I should find
the practice of which I was now taking charge "an exceedingly soft
billet, and suitable for a studious man;" and certainly he had not
misled me, for the patients were, in fact, so few that I was quite
concerned for my principal, and rather dull for want of work. Hence,
when my friend John Thorndyke, the well-known medico-legal expert,
proposed to come down and stay with me for a weekend and perhaps a few
days beyond, I hailed the proposal with delight, and welcomed him with
open arms.

"You certainly don't seem to be overworked, Jervis," he remarked, as we
turned out of the gate after tea, on the day of his arrival, for a
stroll on the shore. "Is this a new practice, or an old one in a state
of senile decay?"

"Why, the fact is," I answered, "there is virtually no practice.
Cooper--my principal--has been here about six years, and as he has
private means he has never made any serious effort to build one up; and
the other man, Dr. Burrows, being uncommonly keen, and the people very
conservative, Cooper has never really got his foot in. However, it
doesn't seem to trouble him."

"Well, if he is satisfied, I suppose you are," said Thorndyke, with a
smile. "You are getting a seaside holiday, and being paid for it. But I
didn't know you were as near to the sea as this."

We were entering, as he spoke, an artificial gap-way cut through the low
cliff, forming a steep cart-track down to the shore. It was locally