her poor grandchild's sore throat."

"I don't mix up the medicines, ma'am," replied Timothy; "you must apply
to that gentleman, Mr Newland, who is behind the counter--he understands
what is good for every body's complaints."

"Bless his handsome face--and so young too! Why, be you a doctor, sir?"

"I should hope so," replied I; "what is it you require--a lotion, or an
embrocation?"

"I don't understand those hard words, but I want some doctor's stuff."

"Very well, my good woman; I know what is proper," replied I, assuming
an important air. "Here, Timothy, wash out this vial very clean."

"Yes, sir," replied Timothy, very respectfully.

I took one of the measures, and putting in a little green, a little
blue, and a little white liquid from the medicine bottles generally used
by Mr Brookes, filled it up with water, poured the mixture into the
vial, corked, and labelled it, _haustus statim sumendus_, and handed it
over the counter to the old woman.

"Is the poor child to take it, or is it to rub outside?" inquired the
old woman.

"The directions are on the label;--but you don't read Latin?"

"Deary me, no! Latin! and do you understand Latin? What a nice clever