“Yes, sir, you can.  First let me introduce myself.  I am Dr. Theophilus Peabody.”

“Will you be seated, Dr. Peabody?”

“You have probably heard of me before,” said the visitor.

“I can’t say that I have.”

“I am surprised at that,” said the doctor, rather disgusted to find himself unknown.  “You must have heard of Peabody’s Unfailing Panacea.”

“I am afraid I have not.”

“You are young,” said Dr. Peabody, compassionately; “that accounts for it.  Peabody’s Panacea, let me tell you, sir, is the great remedy of the age.  It has effected more cures, relieved more pain, soothed more aching bosoms, and done more good, than any other medicine in existence.”

“It must be a satisfaction to you to have conferred such a blessing on mankind,” said Harry, inclined to laugh at the doctor’s magniloquent style.

“It is.  I consider myself one of the benefactors of mankind; but, sir, the medicine has not yet been fully introduced.  There are thousands, who groan on beds of pain, who are ignorant that for the small sum of fifty cents they could be restored to health and activity.”

“That’s a pity.”

“It is a pity, Mr. ——­”

“Walton.”

“Mr. Walton,—­I have called, sir, to ask you to co-operate with me in making it known to the world, so far as your influence extends.”

“Is your medicine a liquid?”

“No, sir; it is in the form of pills, twenty-four in a box.  Let me show you.”

The doctor opened a wooden box, and displayed a collection of very unwholesome-looking brown pills.

“Try one, sir; it won’t do you any harm.”

“Thank you; I would rather not.  I don’t like pills.  What will they cure?”

“What won’t they cure?  I’ve got a list of fifty-nine diseases in my circular, all of which are relieved by Peabody’s Panacea.  They may cure more; in fact, I’ve been told of a consumptive patient who was considerably relieved by a single box.  You won’t try one?”

“I would rather not.”

“Well, here is my circular, containing accounts of remarkable cures performed.  Permit me to present you a box.”

“Thank you,” said Harry, dubiously.

“You’ll probably be sick before long,” said the doctor, cheerfully, “and then the pills will come handy.”

“Doctor,” said Ferguson, gravely, “I find my hair getting thin on top of the head.  Do you think the panacea would restore it?”

“Yes,” said the doctor, unexpectedly.  “I had a case, in Portsmouth, of a gentleman whose head was as smooth as a billiard-ball.  He took the pills for another complaint, and was surprised, in the course of three weeks, to find young hair sprouting all over the bald spot.  Can’t I sell you half-a-dozen boxes?  You may have half a dozen for two dollars and a half.”

Ferguson, who of course had been in jest, found it hard to forbear laughing, especially when Harry joined the doctor in urging him to purchase.