Crabbe's Practice

Crabbe took his degree2 a year before I did, and went down with his young degree, and a still younger wife, to a large port in England, which we will call Brisport. At that time I was acting as assistant to a medical man in Manchester, and heard little from my friend.

One day to my surprise I received a telegram from Mrs. Crabbe asking me to run down to Brisport to see her husband, as he was far from well.

I certainly found Crabbe changed very much for the worse, though he brightened up wonderfully at the sight of an old Friend.

After dinner the three of us sat down to talk things over. It seemed Tom had a lot to complain of. "If I could make myself known it would be all right. The place seems to be overcrowded with doctors. I wouldn't mind if ttiese other fellows were good men,3 but they are not. Yet they make a pound to my shilling."4

"Couldn't we get up6 some incident," said I, "which would make your name known to the public?"

"My dear Barton, that's exactly what I want. If I could manage to get my name into the Brisport Chronicle it might be the making of me. Wait a bit till I think."

Tom seemed lost in thought. "Can you swim?" he asked.

"Fairly6 well."

"Then come out," said Tom.

I couldn't get a word out of him as to his intentions, so I just walked along beside him, wondering what he was going to do.

Our first stoppage was at a small dock which is crossed by an iron bridge. He hailed the boatman and inquired about the terms of boat hire. Then, to the boatman's disappointment, we set off in the. opposite direction.

Our next stoppage was at the Jolly Mariner's Arms.7 Did they keep beds? Yes, they kept beds. We then went to the chemist's. Did he keep a galvanic battery? Once again the answer was in the affirmative and with a satisfied smile Tom Crabbe headed for home, leaving some very angry people behind him.

That evening, over tea, he told us his plan — and the council of three accepted it, with the immediate result that I at once moved to the Brisport Hotel.

It was nearly nine o'clock when I woke up next day. I jumped out of bed and started to dress hurriedly. "Well," I said to myself, "If old Tom Crabbe doesn't get his name in the papers today, it isn't my fault. I wonder if any friend would do as much for me!" I swallowed a cup of coffee and. set out.

Brisport seemed unusually lively this morning. As I reached the lit­tle dock with the iron bridge I caught sight of a man. There was no mis­taking the hat and spectacles of Thomas Crabbe.

I passed him without sign of recognition and went straight to the boathouse.

"Could I hire a boat for an hour?" I asked the boatman.

"One minute, sir," he said. "Would you want me to row you, sir?"

"Yes, you'd better."

"Aye, aye,8 sir," said he and away we went. At the end of the hour we turned back and pulled up to the quay.

"Give me the oars," said I. "I want a bit of exercise — let us change places," and I stood up.

"Take care!" cried the boatman, but it was too late. With a sharp, melodramatic cry I fell overboard.

I hardly realised what I was going to do until I had done. It was not a pleasant feeling to have the water closing over one's head. I struck the bottom with my feet, and shot up again to the surface. The boat­man came to my rescue at once. He hit me a painful blow on the head with something and I went down again. When I came up next time the boatman seized me by the hair of my head as if he would tear my scalp off and got me to land.

There I lay on the hard stones of the quay. "He's gone,9 poor fellow!" said someone. "Quite dead." "Turn him upside down." "Nothing will cure him." "Feel his pulse."

"Stop," said a firm voice — "stop! What has occurred? Can I be of any help? I am a physician."

"A man drowned," cried several voices.

"My name is Doctor Crabbe. Dear me, poor young gentleman. Take him up to the tavern."

We got to the Mariner's Arms. At Crabbe's request I was stripped and laid in the best bed. The news of the accident seemed to have spread, for there was a crowd in the street. Tom insisted that everybody except a dozen of the more respectable of the townspeople should leave the room.

"Shall I bring brandy?" said the landlady.

"Yes, and towels — but the brandy first."

"Why, he's drinking it," said the landlady, as she put the glass to my lips.

"A reflex, automatic action," said Tom. "My good woman, any corpse will drink brandy if you give it some. Stand aside and we will try Marshall Hill's treatment."

After a quick examination Tom started pushing me about in a very rough manner.

"It's hopeless," he said at last, stopping and covering my head with the bedclothes. "Send for the police!" and he walked towards the door. There he hesitated. A thought seemed to strike him, and he turned back. "There is yet a possible hope," he said, "we have not tried electricity. I am doubtful, though, that the treatment should help." He sent a boy to the nearest chemist's to fetch a galvanic battery.

"Now, gentlemen," said Tom, "I believe I may say that I am the first practitioner10 in Great Britain who has used electricity for this purpose. I warn you that I have seen it produce surprising effect: it may again in this case."

It certainly did. Tom always said that it was an accident, but, as it was, he sent the strongest current through my body adding greatly to my suffering. I gave one loud cry and jumped out of bed right into the middle of the room.

"You idiot!" I shouted shaking my fist in Tom's face.

Tom's usual presence of mind saved the situation. "A miracle!" he cried, "send for a cab. Poor fellow," Tom continued, "he's alive, but he has developed some dangerous symptoms. Now help me lead him to the cab. If any of you have any information to give which might throw light on this case my address is 81 George Street. Remember, Doctor Crabbe, 81 George Street."

I could not stay in Brisport long for I got a telegram from my prin­cipal demanding that I should return immediately. I waited long enough to get an early copy of the Brisport Chronicle. A column and a half was about Dr. Crabbe and the extraordinary effects of electricity upon a drowned man.

As to the financial success of our little experiment I can only judge from the following letter from Tom Crabbe:

Dear Jack,

You want to know how all goes in Brisport, I suppose. Well, I'll tell you. I've never had a day since our little joke without half a dozen new names on the list. Just let me know when you are going to set up, and I'll manage to run down, old man, and give you a good start in business.

Good-bye. Love from Missus.11

Ever yours,

Thomas Waterhouse Crabbe,

M.B.12 Edin.13

81 George Street,

Brisport.

 

NOTES

1. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, 1859—1930, British physician, novel­ist, and detective story-writer, born in Edinburgh. Best known for his detective stories about the fictional character of Sherlock Holmes of Baker Street, London, and his friend Dr. Watson, as The Sign of the Four (1889), Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (1891), The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes (1893), The Hound of the Baskervilles (1902), Return of Sherlock Holmes (1904).

2. degree: in a university it is a title to one who has finished a course of studies and passed an examination.

3. good men: good doctors

4. Yet they make a pound to my shilling: while I make a shilling, they make a pound each.

5. get up: organise, arrange

6. fairly: it is mainly used with 'favourable' adjectives and ad­verbs (e.g. good, nice, bravely, well, etc.) while rather is used in this sense either before 'unfavourable' adjectives or adverbs (e.g. bad, sil­ly, ugly, poor, etc.) or before 'neutral' ones to which it will add a nega­tive meaning. E.g. 1. You seem to have done fairly well in your exam, but your friend did rather badly. 2. It was rather warm in the room (meaning "too" warm for one's comfort).

7. Jolly Mariner's Arms: the name of a tavern which was also an inn

8. aye int. yes

9. he's gone: he's dead

10. practitioner: a general practitioner, a doctor; амбулаторный врач

11. Missus: a familiar way of speaking of one's wife

12. M.B.: Bachelor of Medicine, Bachelor being the first univer­sity degree

13. Edin.: Edinburgh, here — University of Edinburgh.