he thought that it would save him the trouble of returning if he saw her then; so he paid a visit also to her. He found her exhausted, and almost dying away, laying on a sofa. "Well, my good lady, how go we on?" said he.

"Sadly, sadly, Sir," she replied, "I have no rest by night, no ease by day."

"Did not the draught I sent you, procure any sleep?"

66

"O No-I counted the clock, hour after hour, from the time I went to bed til I arose."

I will change the medicine," said he, "I will send you a little soporific mixture, and I trust that you will have a good night's rest." "Do Sir," said Mrs. Sandby.

"I will-good day to you."

When he went home he ordered the two medicines, and left them to their operations.

Mr. Malcombe received his little bottle; and Mrs. Sandby received hers. Mr. Malcombe put on his dressing gown-took off his cravatmade his camomile tea surrounded himself with every thing that he thought would be necessary; and then swallowed his dose. He swallowed it in vain. He rose from the elbow chair, in which he had deemed it prudent to seat himself, and walked up and down the room, as he had been

ordered to do. All to no purpose. While he was thus parading with long strides from corner to corner, in order to lengthen his walk, he grew very tired, and somewhat sleepy, and threw himself on the bed, where he fell fast asleep.

Mrs. Sandby also swallowed her potion, and went to bed, hoping to have a good night's rest. Instead of which she was almost convulsed by a pain here, and a pain there; and her shrieks verily alarmed the house. Every one thought that she was about to expire; and every one was clamorous for better advice than that of the man who had so ignorantly mistaken her case, as to kill her by such a violent experiment. However, they all said, " send for the brute, and let him see what he has done."

Away went the servant, and roused the sleeping apothecary from his bed. "Mrs. Sandby is dying, Sir,Your physic has absolutely killed her She has swallowed her death Sir," said the servant.

Poor man! he rose; followed the servant, and went into Mrs. Sandby's room.

“O, Sir!" said the nurse-“O, Sir!” said the maid-"See what a condition she is in," said the landlady. "Here was a medicine truly, to give to a woman in Mrs. Sandby's weak state."

The poor apothecary was a little alarmed. The good lady had been so bad I cannot say how bad-He looked at her with a very long face; that lengthened all the faces round her; and that lengthened hers. "O Sir! I shall die! I shall die, Sir!" said she.

"No, no," said he, "not so bad as that, I assure you, my dear Madam-Depend upon it, the worst is over: and I will send you another soporific draught which will, I make no doubt, set all to rights very shortly."

By the way, he found on putting the phial to his mouth, and tasting the dregs, that what she had swallowed was not very soporific. However, he kept that to himself, and was careful to put the empty bottle in his pocket." Now I am here,” thought he to himself, "I will visit my patient up stairs, and see how he goes on with his emetic." He knocked at Mr. Malcombe's door; nobody said, come in." He knocked again; no one spoke. He knocked a third time; no answer; so in he went. There lay Mr. Malcombe in a fine composed sleep. His empty bottle lay on the table, and explained all that had happened. The two patients being in the same house, the wrong bottles had been taken into their respective apartments; and each, without reading the label, drank

66

off the contents. Fortunately they both did well. The gentleman's long nap did no harm to his overcharged habit: and the violent rummage, by mistake given to Mrs. Sandby, and which the apothecary had been afraid to order her, entirely carried off all her complaints. The gossips nevertheless, all said that it would have been less hard hearted to let her die, than to save her by such rough

means.

As for Mr. Malcombe, who was let into the secret, he is thoroughly convinced that physic is physic, be it what it may, and now, instead of sending for advice, if by chance he happen to be sick, he walks into the first apothecary's shop he comes to, lays down eighteen pence, and takes a phial of any mixture which he finds ready prepared and he says that it always answers the purpose.

THE CHANGELING.

SOME years ago two tradesmen in Paris had each a daughter born to him on the same day. They both sent their child into the country to be nursed, and both happened to fix on the same woman to undertake the charge of bringing them up.

The one, named Prideaux, was a grocer in no very affluent circumstances. The other, named Malport, was a silk-mercer, in a very flourishing trade, and likely to become a rich man. About six months after the infants had been sent away, the silk-mercer's daughter died. As his means of payment were larger than those of poor Prideaux, and the woman was unwilling to lose the best bargain of the two, she sent word to the grocer that his little Lucette was dead; and dressing the real Lucette in the cloaths belonging to Louisa Malport, brought her up as the silkmercer's daughter.