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Small matter hum, hum! Let's see this is Tuesday? Quite so. Do it Friday! Friday at" he glanced toward a scribbled pad of engagement dates at his elbow "Friday at seven A. M. No, make it seven-fifteen. Have important tumor case at seven. St. Germicide's Hospital. You know the place up on Umpty-umph Street. Go' day! Miss Whoziz, call next visitor."
If the overhauling had been as thorough as I had reason to believe it was from my present sensations, I need never fear catching anything again so long as I lived, except possibly dandruff. I waved the nurse away. I craved solitude. I desired only to lie there in that bed and hurt which I did. I had said beforehand I meant to stay in St. Germicide's for two or three days only.
In my mind I had the whole programme mapped out. I would stay at the hospital for, say, two days following the operation or, at most, three. Then I must be up and away. I had a good deal of work to do and a number of people to see on important business, and I could not really afford to waste more than a weekend on the staff of St. Germicide's.
I did a good deal of looking backwards upon the centuries during my sojourn at St. Germicide's. Take the Middle Ages now the period when a barber and a surgeon were one and the same. If a man made a failure as a barber he turned his talents to surgery. Surgeons in those times were a husky breed.
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