A BAD CASE 71 



myself; "all so fat and puffy." I cudgelled my brain 

 for a clue. As I examined the hand in silence to play 

 for time and conceal my ignorance, he went on : 



"What I'm afraid of is blood-poisoning. I couldn't 

 get out to a doctor before a month, and by that 

 time I'll be one-armed or dead. I know which I'd 

 prefer." 



Knowing, at all events, that nothing but evil could 

 come of fear, I said: "Now see here. You can put 

 that clean out of your mind. You never saw blood- 

 poisoning that colour, did you?" 



"That's so," and he seemed intensely relieved. 



While I was thus keeping up an air of omniscience 

 by saying nothing, Major Jarvis came up. 



"Look at this, Jarvis," said I; "isn't it a bad 

 one?" 



"Phew," said the Major, "that's the worst felon I 

 ever saw." 



Like a gleam from heaven came the word felon. 

 That's what it was, a felon or whitlow, and again I 

 breathed freely. Turning to the patient with my 

 most cock-sure professional air, I said: 



"Now see, Y., you needn't worry; you've hurt your 

 finger in rowing, and the injury was deep and has set 

 up a felon. It is not yet headed up enough; as soon 

 as it is I'll lance it, unless it bursts of itself (and in- 

 wardly I prayed it might burst). Can you get any 

 linseed meal or bran? " 



"Afraid not." 



"Well, then, get some clean rags and keep the place 

 covered with them dipped in water as hot as you can 



