eart, if you clap your nippers on me, till I know
wherefore! Mr. Random, won't you lend a hand towards saving my precious
limb! Odd's heart, if Lieutenant Bowling was here, he would not suffer
Jack Rattlin's leg to be chopped off like a piece of old junk."

This pathetic address to me, joined to my inclination to serve my honest
friend, and the reasons I had to believe there was no danger in delaying
the amputation, induced me to declare myself of the first mate's
opinion, and affirm that the preternatural colour of the skin was owing
to an inflammation, occasioned by a contusion, and common in all such
cases, without any indication of an approaching gangrene. Morgan, who
had a great opinion of my skill, manifestly exulted in my fellowship,
and asked Thompson's sentiments in the matter, in hopes of strengthening
our association with him too; but he, being of a meek disposition, and
either dreading the enmity of the surgeon, or speaking the dictates of
his own judgment, in a modest manner espoused the opinion of Mackshane,
who by this time having consulted with himself, determined to act in
such a manner as to screen himself from censure, and at the same time
revenge himself on us, for our arrogance in contradicting him. With this
view, he asked if we would undertake to cure the leg at our peril: that
is, be answerable for the consequence. To this question, Morgan replied,
that the lives of his creatures are at the hands of Cot alone; and it
would be great presumption in him to undertake for an event that was in
the power of his Maker, no more than the doctor could promise to cure
all the sick to whom he administered his assistance; but if the patient
would put himself under our direction, we would do our endeavour to
bring his distemper to a favourable issue, to which at present we saw no
obstruction.

I signified my concurrence; and Rattlin was so overjoyed that, shaking
us both by the hands, he swore nobody else should touch him, and, if he
died, his blood should be upon his own head. Mr. Mackshane, flattering
himself with the prospect of our miscarriage, went away, and left us to
manage it as we should think proper; accordingly, having sawed off part
of the splinter that stuck through the skin, we reduced the fracture,
dressed the wound, applied the eighteen-tailed bandage, and put the leg
in a box, secundam artem. Everything succeeded according to our wish,
and we had the satisfaction of not only preserving the poor