PEEP AT OUR NEIGHBORS. 55

flowed from our veins at the tap of his
lancet.

We children got in the habit of dislik-
ing the doctor, on account of the medi-
cines he gave us and our friends. In
spite of all our judgment, we could not
help looking upon him as a most cruel
and unfeeling man, with all his learning.
We did not love him. We stood in as
much fear of him, almost, as we did of
that ideal bear whose portrait appeared
in Webster’s spelling book, and whose
aspect, grim at the best, was rendered a
shade or two more frightful by the art—

or rather the want of art—exhibited by

the engraver.
4