"So you see, madam," he reiterates, "it isn't all
profit. I paid a good price for the poor skeleton, have had all ny
trouble, and shall have no gain-except the recompense of feeling.
There was a time when I might have shared one hundred and fifty
dollars by him, but I felt humane towards him; didn't want him to
slide until he was a No. 1." Thus the Elder sets forth his own
goodness of heart.
"Pray, what do you pay a head for them, Mr. Praiseworthy?" enquires
the lady, smoothing her hand over the feverish head of the poor
victim, as the carnatic of her cheek changed to pallid languor.
Pursuing her object with calmness, she determined not to display her
emotions until fully satisfied how far the Elder would go.
"That, madam, depends on cases; cripples are not worth much. But,
now and then, we get a legless fellow what's sound in body, can get
round sprightly, and such like; and, seeing how we can make him
answer a sight of purposes, he'll bring something," he sedately
replies, with muscles unmoved. "Cases what doctors give up as 'done
gone,' we gets for ten and twenty dollars; cases not hanging under
other diseases, we give from thirty to fifty-and so on! Remember,
however, you must deduct thirty per cent. for death. At times, where
you would make two or three hundred dollars by curing one, and
saving his life, you lose three, sometimes half-a-dozen head." The
Elder consoles his feelings with the fact that it is not all profit,
looks highly gratified, puts a large cut of tobacco in his mouth,
thanks God that the common school-bill didn't pass in the
legislature, and that his business is more humane than people
generally admit.
Pages:
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224