"I want to see this Mr. Johnson first," persisted the sick man.

"Get a carriage, then. This walking in the hot sun is too much for
you."

"Can't afford to ride in carriages. Have spent all my money in
doctor-stuffs. Oh, dear! Well! You say this man lives just beyond
the three-mile stone, at the first road leading off to the left?"

"Yes."

"Two poplars stand at the gate?"

"Yes."

"I ought to find that," said the man.

"You can find it, if you try," returned the doctor.

The man started off again.

"Plague on the persevering fellow!" muttered the man of drugs, as
soon as the invalid retired.

"I wish I'd sent him six miles, instead of three."

The day wore on, but the testimonial-hunter did not reappear. Early
on the next morning, however, his pale, thin face and emaciated
brows were visible in the shop of the quack-doctor.