Japhet, in Search of a Father | Page 8

inside will do, the devil's in it if it
won't be driven out of me between the two."
We had not that plaister in the shop, but we had blister plaister, and
Timothy, handing one to me, I proffered it to him. "And what may you
be after asking for this same?" inquired he.
The blister plaisters were sold at a shilling each, when spread on paper,
so I asked him eighteen-pence, that we might pocket the extra sixpence.
"By the powers, one would think that you had made a mistake, and
handed me the rich man's plaister, instead of the poor one's. It's less
whiskey I'll have to drink, anyhow; but here's the money, and the top of
the morning to ye, seeing as how it's jist getting late."
Timothy and I laughed as we divided the sixpence. It appeared that
after taking his allowance of whiskey, the poor fellow fixed the plaister
on his back when he went to bed, and the next morning found himself
in a condition not be envied. It was a week before we saw him again,
and much to the horror of Timothy and myself, he walked into the shop
when Mr Brookes was employed behind the counter. Timothy
perceived him before he saw us, and pulling me behind the large mortar,
we contrived to make our escape into the back parlour, the door of
which we held ajar to hear what would take place.
"Murder and turf!" cried the man, "but that was the devil's own plaister
that you gave me here for my back, and it left me as raw as a turnip,
taking every bit of my skin off me entirely, foreby my lying in bed for a
whole week, and losing my day's work."

"I really do not recollect supplying you with a plaister, my good man,"
replied Mr Brookes.
"Then by the piper that played before Moses, if you don't recollect it,
I've an idea that I shall never forget it. Sure enough, it cured me, but
wasn't I quite kilt before I was cured?"
"It must have been some other shop," observed Mr Brookes. "You have
made a mistake."
"Devil a bit of a mistake, except in selling me the plaister. Didn't I get it
of a lad in this same shop?"
"Nobody sells things out of this shop without my knowledge."
The Irishman was puzzled--he looked round the shop. "Well, then, if
this a'n't the shop, it was own sister to it."
"Timothy," called Mr Brookes.
"And sure enough there was a Timothy in the other shop, for I heard
the boy call the other by the name; however, it's no matter, if it took off
the skin, it also took away the thumbago, so the morning to you, Mr
Pottykarry."
When the Irishman departed, we made our appearance. "Japhet, did you
sell a plaister to an Irishman?"
"Yes--don't you recollect, last Saturday? and I gave you the shilling."
"Very true; but what did he ask for?"
"He asked for a plaister, but he was very tipsy. I showed him a blister,
and he took it;" and then I looked at Timothy and laughed.
"You must not play such tricks," said Mr Brookes. "I see what you
have been about--it was a joke to you, but not to him."
Mr Brookes, who imagined we had sold it to the Irishman out of fun,

then gave us a very severe lecture, and threatened to acquaint Mr
Cophagus, if ever we played such tricks again. Thus the affair blew
over, and it made me very careful; and, as every day I knew more about
medicines, I was soon able to mix them, so as to be of service to those
who applied, and before eighteen months had expired, I was trusted
with the mixing up all the prescriptions. At the end of that period Mr
Brookes left us, and I took the whole of his department upon myself,
giving great satisfaction to Mr Cophagus.
And now that I have announced my promotion, it will perhaps be as
well that I give the reader some idea of my personal appearance, upon
which I have hitherto been silent. I was thin, between fifteen and
sixteen years old, very tall for my age, and of my figure I had no reason
to be ashamed; a large beaming eye, with a slightly aquiline nose, a
high forehead, fair in complexion, but with very dark hair. I was always
what may be termed a remarkably clean-looking boy, from the
peculiarity of my skin and complexion; my teeth were small, but were
transparent, and I had a very deep dimple in my chin. Like all embryo
apothecaries, I carried in my appearance, if not the look of wisdom,
most certainly that of self-sufficiency, which does equally