Am.  Jour.  Pharm.  ) 
Aug.  1, 1873.  j 
The  Night  Bell. 
348 
in  the  street  at  a  late  and  lonely  hour  of  the  night.  Five  minutes  in 
waiting  outside,  and  that,  perhaps,  in  the  cold  and  rain,  will  seem  to 
them  as  long  as  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  to  you  who  are  inside,  es- 
pecially if  the  call  be  an  urgent  one.  This  is  why  customers  are 
often  so  impatient,  and  annoy  the  pharmacist  so  frequently  by  their 
continued  or  frequent  ringing  of  the  bell  or  knocking  at  the  door,  if 
the  call  is  not  answered  at  once.  The  moment  the  night  bell  is  rung 
or  a  knock  is  made  at  the  door,  it  should  be  immediately  responded  to 
by  answering  through  the  speaking  tube,  if  such  a  convenience  is  at 
hand,  or  from  the  window.  This  will  prevent  impatience,  and  the 
customer  will  wait  contentedly  at  the  door,  and  give  you  time  to  has- 
tily arrange  your  toilet. 
.  I  am  well  aware  that  the  patience  of  pharmacists  is  often  sorely 
tried  by  these  night  callers,  and  theie  is  often  great  excuse  for  our 
sometimes  becoming  vexed  at  the  frequent  interruptions  of  our  rest. 
After  we  have  been  on  our  feet  the  whole  day  long,  and  wearied 
and  fatigued  both  in  body  and  mind  by  the  labors  and  anxieties  of 
the  business  of  the  day,  and  the 
"  Soul  is  quite  weighed  down  with  cares,  and  asks 
The  soft  refreshment  of  a  moment's  sleep," 
then  it  is  when  we  have  retired  to  our  couch  of  repose,  and,  perhaps, 
have  just  got  fairly  into  a  doze,  that  we  are  suddenly  awakened  by 
the  tingle  of  the  night  bell,  which,  at  first,  falls  upon  the  tympanum 
"  like  the  soft  sweet  music  of  a  dream,"  but  in  a  moment  arouses  us 
to  the  consciousness  that  it  is  the  unwelcome  ring  of  the  horrid  night 
bell.  I  know  that  under  such  circumstances  we  cannot  but  occasion- 
ally instinctively  and  irresistably  feel  provoked  and  cross  at  all  man- 
kind, to  think  that  even  at  night,  at  hours  when  all  the  world  is 
hushed  in  slumber  and  almost  all  can  enjoy  their  rest  undisturbed, 
the  poor  apothecary  is  denied  this  privilege,  which  makes  us  not  un- 
frequently  wish  that  we  had  in  early  life  chosen  some  other  calling. 
But  such  feelings  of  dislike  or  aversion  to  the  performance  of  any 
part  of  our  necessary  duties,  no  matter  how  unpleasant,  should  not 
be  encouraged  nor  allowed  a  permanent  lodgment  in  our  bosoms,  but 
should  be  repressed  and,  if  possible,  extinguished,  or,  if  not,  they 
will  "  grow  with  our  growth,  and  strengthen  with  our  strength," 
until  finally  every  unpleasant  duty  that  interferes  with  our  comfort 
or  abridges  our  pleasure  will  become  distasteful  to  us,  and  will  be 
performed  with  reluctance  and  indifference.    Therefore,  from  our 
4 
