You're getting sleepy. You can't hold your eyes open any longer. For the present the disease is checked. Now, you are asleep.'
"The Mayor shut his eyes slowly and began to snore.
"'You observe, Mr. Tiddle,' says I, 'the wonders of modern science.'
"'Biddle,' says he. 'When will you give uncle the rest of the treatment, Dr. Poohpooh?'
"'Waugh-hoo,' says I. Til come back at eleven to-morrow. When he wakes up give him eight drops of turpentine and three pounds of steak. Good-morning.'
"The next morning I went back on time. 'Well, Mr. Riddle,' says I, when he opened the bedroom door, 'and how is uncle this morning?'
"'He seems much better,' says the young man.
"The Mayor's colour and pulse was fine. I gave him another treatment, and he said the last of the pain left him.
"'Now,' says I, 'you'd better stay in bed for a day or two, and you'll be all right. It's a good thing I happened to be in Fisher Hill, Mr. Mayor,' says I, 'for all the remedies in the cornucopia that the regular schools of
