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his head at Grunter, and playfully clenching his fist at Fitzcribb. "Just begin it again, my dear Fitzcribb; I wish Mr. Jobb to hear it all, and then let him see if he has any drugs that can nerve me to continue that great work. I cannot lie here like a dying racer, with the goal in sight; enable me to complete that noble undertaking, and then I can defy death, for I shall have made myself immortal."

"You must be let a little more blood," said Jobb, gently taking out his lancet, "and that without loss of time. Fitzcribb, will you hold the basin ?"

"You shall not have another drop of my blood; I begin to fear you have had too much already!" shouted Grunter, excited almost to delirium." Read, I say, Fitzcribb! by the soul of Erasmus! if you do not, I can't answer for the consequences!"

Jobb, rather alarmed, exclaimed, "Presently I will return and hear it. I must just go and visit my other patients now." He intended to slip down stairs, and bring up

two strong footmen to hold Grunter while he was bled.

"Not presently, but now," roared Grunter. Fitzcribb began to read, Jobb snatched away the proofs; upon this the delirious Grunter darted out of bed, and with a maniac sort of strength he caught hold of little, punchy Mr. Jobb. "Go!" he cried, dragging him to his chamber-door, then on the landing, and, to Jobb's horror, to the very edge of the staircase:-"Go! being devoid of literary taste and classic learning! fool! in whom the words 'philosophy' and 'history' awaken no echoes! Go! let me see you no more!"

Jobb screeched, Fitzcribb came out to Grunter, the huge rescue him, too late! Grunter, hideous in his night-shirt and white cotton cap, with a read hankerchief tied à la gipsy under his massive chin, had centered all his remaining strength in one kick, which sent Mr. Jobb down the flight of stairs. He then tottered back to his room, and sank almost fainting on the floor.

Mr. Fitzcribb, having ascertained that Jobb

had received no injury, helped poor Grunter back to bed. He kindly stayed with him, administered a cordial, and did all he could to revive him, for he considered that the cupidity of Jobb was the cause of Grunter's dreadful state, and at heart he rather rejoiced at his sudden expulsion. He sat then by Grunter's bed-side, reading him the proofs of his work, till sleep closed the poor old usher's hollow eyes. He then left him, resolved the next day to warn him against Jobb, and his system. But Grunter's delirium had perhaps saved his life; Mr. Jobb had had enough of the "Lion:" he handed him over to a nurse.

Mr. Fitzcribb, who blamed himself for his own part in this affair, in having himself, under a delusion, called in Jobb, and not having dared to reveal Benoni's discrepancy, and who saw that Grunter had indeed no complaint but exhaustion, from Jobb's Sangrado treatment, easily induced him to fortify himself with jellies, broths, and chickens. Ere long Mr. Grunter's appetite was so good, that he grudged Mr. Fitzcribb the share that ill

fed author always took in his frequent repasts, but he concealed the paltry feeling, for Mr. Fitzcribb had produced new proofs of "the work;" and when his numerous avocations prevented his doing it himself, “Milton,” a very clever youth, took his place as amanuensis by Grunter's bed-side, and wrote what he dictated, sometimes correcting his tautological and verbose style, sometimes remodelling whole sentences, and often slipping in observations and reflections of his own.

He

Mr. Jobb remained silent on the subject of his sudden descent. He found Mr. Lindsay awake, and determined to rise in the evening, and Augusta still very unwell. resolved to revenge himself on Grunter, by pouring in upon him incessant draughts, which, whether he took them or not, he knew must be paid for. He then returned to Julian, and, finding him doing well, he obtained Ellen's permission to go home for an hour or two. At the street-door he beheld the splendid equipage of Sir Peter Riskwell. He looked eagerly at the protruded face; he

hoped it might be that of an invalid. Alas! it was round and ruddy!

Sir Peter's inquiries since the duel had been very frequent. He was asking the details of the catastrophe, and of Augusta's health, when Jobb came out: the footman said, "That's Mr. Jobb, sir, the doctor, he can explain all better than I can, sir.”

"May I ask a few questions of you, sir?" said Sir Peter, haughtily, just as Jobb was about to enter his small one-horse chaise.

"Sir!" said Jobb, who, whenever there was a chance of a patient, thought it well to assume some importance, " my time is not my own. This affair of the young gentleman's and the young lady's state (Jobb had heard his anxious questions about Augusta) takes up so much of my time, that really I'm ruining an excellent connexion. Excuse me, sir, I am a man of few words; I must be in Great Quebec Street and back in two hours, besides seeing my patients."

"As I much wish for the honour of some conversation with you, sir," said Sir Peter,

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