"All that young Abernethy probably knew of Sir Charles was, that he rode about in a fine carriage, saw a great many people, and took a great many fees; all of which, though presenting no further attractions for Abernethy, made a _prima facie_ case not altogether repulsive."
We must not forget to mention that young Abernethy was of a very inquiring mind. "When I was a boy," he said in after years, "I half ruined myself in buying oranges and sweetmeats, in order to ascertain the effects of different kinds of diet on diseases."
Whether he tried said "oranges and other things" on himself or some unfortunate victim, my informant saith not; but I leave the reader to decide by his own earlier appetites and experiences. "When I was a boy," I think is significant of the probabilities that it was his own digestive organs that were "half ruined."
Be it as it may, it reminds me of the case of a little country boy, who, on his first advent to the city on a holiday, was chaperoned by his somewhat older and sharper city cousin,--"one of the b'hoy's,"--who exercised a sort of vigilance over the uninitiated rustic, that the little fellow might not surfeit himself by too great a rapacity for peanuts, gingerbread, candies, and oranges, often generously sharing the danger by partaking largely of the small boy's purchases in order to spare his more delicate stomach.
Finding the ignorant little rustic about to devour a nice-looking orange, his cousin pounced upon him just in time to prevent the rash act.
"Here, Sammy; don't you know that is one of the nastiest and most indigestiblest things you could put into your stomach? Give it here!"
Rustic, whose faith in the wisdom of his maturer cousin, though very great, was yet quite counterbalanced by the sweets in the orange, slightly held back, when the other continued,--
"Leastwise, Sammy, let's have a hold of it, and suck the abominable juice out for you."
(For this digression I beg the pardon of the reader; for the idea I thank Frank Leslie.)
George Macilwain, M. D., F. R. C. S., etc., in prefacing the life of the great London surgeon, gives a brief and interesting sketch of his own boyhood, also his early impressions of Abernethy, and his first attendance on his lectures.