of the condition.
With pride he exhibited the organ to us in the class-room before
ordering his assistant to remove it to the ice-chest, preparatory to its
being used for microscopical work in the practical class. Cullingworth
saw his chance, and acted on the instant. Slipping out of the classroom,
he threw open the ice-chest, rolled his ulster round the dreadful
glistening mass, closed the chest again, and walked quietly away. I have
no doubt that to this day the disappearance of that waxy liver is one of
the most inexplicable mysteries in the career of our Professor.

That evening, and for many evenings to come, we worked upon our liver.
For our experiments it was necessary to subject it all to great heat
in an endeavour to separate the nitrogenous cellular substance from the
non-nitrogenous waxy matter. With our limited appliances the only way
we could think of was to cut it into fine pieces and cook it in a frying
pan. So night after night the curious spectacle might have been seen of
a beautiful young woman and two very earnest young men busily engaged in
making these grim fricassees. Nothing came of all our work; for though
Cullingworth considered that he had absolutely established his case, and
wrote long screeds to the medical papers upon the subject, he was never
apt at stating his views with his pen, and he left, I am sure, a very
confused idea on the minds of his readers as to what it was that he was
driving at. Again, as he was a mere student without any letters after
his name, he got scant attention, and I never heard that he gained over
a single supporter.

At the end of the year we both passed our examinations and became duly
qualified medical men. The Cullingworths vanished away, and I never
heard any more of them, for he was a man who prided himself upon never
writing a letter. His father had formerly a very large and lucrative
practice in the West of Scotland, but he died some years ago. I had a
vague idea, founded upon some chance remark of his, that Cullingworth
had gone to see whether the family name might still stand him in good
stead there. As for me I began, as you will remember that I explained
in my last, by acting as assistant in my father's practice. You know,
however, that at its best it is not worth more than L700 a year, with no
room for expansion. This is not large enough to keep two of us at work.
Then, again, there are times when I can see that my religious opinions
annoy the dear old