ssistant had finished their dinner,
and came into the shop. The former looked at me, put his stick to his
nose, "Little boys--always hungry--um--like good dinner--roast beef--
Yorkshire pudding--and so on," and he pointed with the stick to the back
parlour. Timothy and I understood him very well this time: we went into
the parlour, when the housekeeper sat down with us, and helped us. She
was a terribly cross, little old woman, but as honest as she was cross,
which is all that I shall say in her favour. Timothy was no favourite,
because he had such a good appetite; and it appeared that I was not very
likely to stand well in her good opinion, for I also ate a great deal,
and every extra mouthful I took I sank in her estimation, till I was
nearly at the zero, where Timothy had long been for the same offence;
but Mr Cophagus would not allow her to stint him, saying, "Little boys
must eat--or won't grow--and so on."

I soon found out that we were not only well fed, but in every other
point well treated, and I was very comfortable and happy. Mr Brookes
instructed me in the art of labelling and tying up, and in a very short
time I was very expert; and as Timothy predicted, the rudiments were
once more handed over to him. Mr Cophagus supplied me with good
clothes, but never gave me any pocket-money, and Timothy and I often
lamented that we had not even a halfpenny to spend.

Before I had been many months in the shop, Mr Brookes was able to leave
when any exigence required his immediate attendance. I made up the
pills, but he weighed out the quantities in the prescriptions: if,
therefore anyone came in for medicines, I desired them to wait the
return of Mr Brookes, who would be in very soon. One day, when Mr
Brookes was out, and I was sitting behind the counter, Timothy sitting
on it, and swinging his legs to and fro, both lamenting that we had no
pocket-money, Timothy said, "Japhet, I've been puzzling my brains how we
can get some money, and I've hit it at last; let you and I turn doctors;
we won't send all the people away who come when Mr Brookes is out, but
we'll physic them ourselves." I jumped at the idea, and he had hardly
proposed it, when an old woman came in, and addressing Timothy, said,
"That she wanted something for her poor grandchild's sore throat."

"I don't mix up the medicines, ma'am," replied Timothy; "you must apply
to that gentleman, Mr Newland, who is behind the counter--he
understands what is go