The young viscount bowed, seated himself at a desk, and wrote from
dictation:


"DR. ABERFORD'S PRESCRIPTION.


"Make acquaintance with all the people of low estate who have time to be
bothered with you; learn their ways, their minds, and, above all, their
troubles."

"Won't all this bore me?" suggested the writer.

"You will see. Relieve one fellow-creature every day, and let Mr.
Saunders book the circumstances."

"I shall like this part," said the patient, laying down his pen. "How
clever of you to think of such things; may not I do two sometimes?"

"Certainly not; one pill per day. Write, Fish the herring! (that beats
deer-stalking.) Run your nose into adventures at sea; live on tenpence,
and earn it. Is it down?"

"Yes, it is down, but Saunders would have written it better."

"If he hadn't he ought to be hanged," said the Aberford, inspecting the
work. "I'm off, where's my hat? oh, there; where's my money? oh, here.
Now look here, follow my prescription, and