seemed as if her spirit were no longer able to respond to the stimuli
of life on earth. Then a sudden rebound appeared to take place, her
eyes lit up with a flash of light, and even endeavouring to raise her
piteous body, she said, "It was an accident, Judge. I upset the lamp
myself, so help me God"; and just for one moment her eyes met those of
her miserable husband. It was the last time she spoke.

Tragedy and comedy ran hand in hand even in this work. St. Patrick's
Day always made the hospital busy, just as Christmas was the season
for burned children. Beer in an East London "pub" was generally served
in pewter pots, as they were not easily broken. A common head injury
was a circular scalp cut made by the heavy bottom rim, a wound which
bled horribly. A woman was brought in on one St. Patrick's Day, her
scalp turned forward over her face and her long hair a mass of clotted
blood from such a stroke, made while she was on the ground. When the
necessary readjustments had been made and she was leaving hospital
cured, we asked her what had been the cause of the trouble. "'Twas
just an accidint, yer know. Sure, me an' another loidy was just havin'
a few words."

On another occasion late at night, we were called out of bed by a
cantankerous, half-drunken fellow whom the night porter could not
pacify. "I'm a regular subscriber to this hospital, and I have never
had my dues yet," he kept protesting. A new drug to produce immediate
vomiting had just been put on the market, and as it was exactly the
treatment he required, we gave him an injection. To our dismay, though
the medicine is in common use to-day, either the poison which he had
been drinking or the drug itself caused a collapse followed by head
symptoms. He was admitted, his head shaved and icebags applied, with
the result that next day he was quite well again. But when he left he
had, instead of a superabundance of curly, auburn hair, a polished
white knob oiled and shining like a State House at night. We debated
whether his subscription would be as regular in future, though he
professed to be profoundly grateful.

I have digressed, but the intimacy which grew up between some of my
patients and myself seemed worth while recounting, for they showed me
what I never in any other way could have understood about the seamy
side of life in great cities, of its terrible tragedies and pathos, of
how much good there is in the worst, and how much need of courage, and
what va