Seeing them thus distraught in bleeding of the bleeding soldier, I place no trust in them; for what slays a veteran may well lay a milk-and-water bourgeois low." "This sounds like common sense," sighed Gerard languidly, "but no need to raise your voice so; I was not born deaf, and just now I hear acutely." "Common sense! very common sense indeed," shouted the bad listener; "why, this is a soldier; a brute whose business is to kill men, not cure them." He added in very tolerable French, "Woe be to you, unlearned man, if you come between a physician and his patient; and woe be to you, misguided youth, if you listen to that man of blood." "Much obliged," said Denys, with mock politeness; "but I am a true man, and would rob no man of his name.

I do somewhat in the way of blood, but not worth mention in this presence.

For one I slay, you slay a score; and for one spoonful of blood I draw, you spill a tubful.

The world is still gulled by shows.

We soldiers vapour with long swords, and even in war be-get two foes for every one we kill; but you smooth gownsmen, with soft phrases and bare bodkins, 'tis you that thin mankind." "A sick chamber is no place for jesting," cried the physician.
"No, doctor, nor for bawling," said the patient peevishly.
"Come, young man," said the senior kindly, "be reasonable.