“You must be feeling very badly,” said the meek and anxious Mrs. Witton “don’t you think it would be better to send for a doctor?”

“There is no doctor,” said Miss Panney, shortly.

“Oh yes,” said the other, “there are several excellent doctors in Thorbury, and Dr. Parker takes all of Dr. Tolbridge’s practice while he is away.”

“Stuff!” remarked Miss Panney.  “I spanked Dr. Parker, when he wore little frocks, for running his tin wheelbarrow against me so that I nearly fell over it.”

“But he has learned a great deal since then,” pleaded Mrs. Witton “and if you do not want any new doctors, isn’t there something I can do for you?  If you will tell me how you feel, it may be that some sort of herb tea—­or a mustard plaster—­”

“Gammon and spinach!” cried Miss Panney, throwing off the bedclothes as if she were about to spring into the middle of the floor.  “I want no teas nor plasters.  I have had as much sleep as I care for, and now I am going to get up.  So trot downstairs, if you please, and tell Margaret to bring me up some hot water.”

For an hour or two before supper time, Miss Panney occupied herself in clearing out her medicine closet.  Every bottle, jar, vial, box, or package it contained was placed upon a large table and divided into two collections.  One consisted of the lotions and medicines prescribed for her by Dr. Tolbridge, and the other of those she herself, in the course of many years, had ordered or compounded,—­not only for her own use, but for that of others.  She had long prided herself on her skill in this sort of thing, and was always willing to prepare almost any sort of medicine for ailing people, asking nothing in payment but the pleasure of seeing them take it.

When everything had been examined and placed on its appropriate end of the table, Miss Panney called for an empty coalscuttle, into which she tumbled, without regard to spilling or breakage, the whole mass of medicaments which had been prepared or prescribed by herself, and she then requested the servant to deposit the contents of the scuttle in the ash-hole.

“After this,” she said to herself, “I will get somebody else to do my concocting,” and she carefully replaced her physician’s medicines on the shelves.

It was three days later when Miss Panney was told that Dr. Tolbridge was in the parlor and wished to see her.

“Well,” said the old lady, as she entered the parlor, “I supposed that after your last call here, you would not come again.”

“Oh, bless my soul!” said the doctor, “I haven’t any time to consider what has happened, I must give my whole attention to what is happening or may happen.  How are you? and how have you been during my absence?”

“Oh, I had medicines enough” said she, “if I had needed them, but I didn’t.”

“Well, I wanted to see for myself, and, besides, I was obliged to come,” said the doctor; “I want to know what has happened since we left.  We got home late last night, and I have not seen anybody who knows anything.”