Leonard, who had been thrown into grave thought by the history of Sprott
and the village genius, now pressing the parson's hand, asked permission
to wait on him before Mr. Dale quitted London; and was about to withdraw,
when the parson, gently detaining him, said, "No; don't leave me yet,
Leonard,--I have so much to ask you, and to talk about. I shall be at
leisure shortly. We are just now going to call on a relation of the
squire's, whom you must recollect, I am sure,--Captain Higginbotham--
Barnabas Higginbotham. He is very poorly."

"And I am sure he would take it kind in you to call too," said the
squire, with great good-nature.

LEONARD.--"Nay, sir, would not that be a great liberty?"

SQUIRE.--"Liberty! To ask a poor sick gentleman how he is? Nonsense.
And I say, Sir, perhaps, as no doubt you have been living in town, and
know more of newfangled notions than I do,--perhaps you can tell us
whether or not it is all humbug,--that new way of doctoring people."

LEONARD.--"What new way, sir. There are so many."

SQUIRE.--"Are there? Folks in London do look uncommonly sickly. But my
poor cousin (he was never a Solomon) has got hold, he says, of a homely--
homely---What's the word, Parson?"

PARSON. "Homoeopathist."

SQUIRE.--"That's it. You see the captain went to live with one Sharpe
Currie, a relation who had a great deal of money, and very little liver;