Medicine is a gift, surgery is a gift and an art.
You shall hear from me, Portugais." He looked again keenly at Jo.

"You have not given him 'herbs and tinctures' ?" "Nothing, M'sieu'." "Very sensible.

Good-day, Portugais." "Good-day, my son," said the priest, and raised his fingers in benediction, as Jo turned and quickly retraced his steps.
"Why did you ask him if he had given the poor man any herbs or tinctures, Marcel ?" said the priest.
"Because those quack tinctures have whiskey in them." "What do you mean ?" "Whiskey in any form would be bad for him," the surgeon answered evasively.
But to himself he kept saying: "The man was a drunkard--he was a drunkard.".