Elsie did what any woman may,--that is, screeched in Doctor Grim's
behalf with full stretch of lungs. Meanwhile the street boys kept up a
shower of mud balls, many of which hit the Doctor, while the rest were
distributed upon his assailants, heightening their ferocity.

"Seize the old scoundrel! the villain! the Tory! the dastardly
Englishman! Hang him in the web of his own devilish spider,--'t is long
enough! Tar and feather him! tar and feather him!"

It was certainly one of those crises that show a man how few real
friends he has, and the tendency of mankind to stand aside, at least,
and let a poor devil fight his own troubles, if not assist them in
their attack. Here you might have seen a brother physician of the grim
Doctor's greatly tickled at his plight: or a decorous, powdered,
ruffle-shirted dignitary, one of the weighty men of the town, standing
at a neighbor's corner to see what would come of it.

"He is not a respectable man, I understand, this Grimshawe,--a quack,
intemperate, always in these scuffles: let him get out as he may!"

And then comes a deacon of one of the churches, and several church-
members, who, hearing a noise, set out gravely and decorously to see
what was going forward in a Christian community.

"Ah! it is that irreligious and profane Grimshawe, who never goes to
meeting. We wash our hands of him!"

And one of the selectmen said,--

"Surely this common brawler ought not to have the care of these nice,