Quaint name! suggests 'Paradise Lost' and buns. Old Man Butters they
call him. Well, I went to see him; and I got a lesson in therapeutics,
and two recipes for curing rheumatism, beside. I think I must try
one of them on you, Miss Blyth."

Miss Phoebe, who was literal, was about to assure him that she was
amply satisfied with the remedies already in use; but he went on, in
high enjoyment, evidently seeing almost with his bodily vision the
figures he conjured up.

"It seems the old gentleman didn't want me sent for; in fact, the
family had done it on the sly, being alarmed at certain symptoms new
to them. I got out there, and found the old fellow sitting in his
armchair, smoking his pipe; fine-looking old boy, white hair and
beard, and all that. Looked me all over, and asked me what I wanted.
Wife and daughter kept out of the way, evidently scared at what they
had done. I went in alone. I said I had come to see him.

"'All right,' says he. 'No extra charge!' and he shut his eyes, and
smoked away for dear life. Presently he opened his eyes, and looked
at me again.

"'Like my looks?' he says.

"'Yes,' said I. I thought he might have returned the compliment, but
he didn't; he only grunted. I waited a bit, talked of this and that;
at last I said, 'How are you feeling this evening, Mr. Butters?'

"'First-rate!' said he. 'How be you?'