The Last Penny and Other Stories

"Will you take a chair, sir?" said the merchant.

Both the gentlemen sat down. About L– there was an air of expectancy, which the doctor did not fail to remark.

"My name is Doctor Grimes," said he, repeating his first introduction.

"I am happy to see you, doctor," returned L–, bowing again.

"I received a letter from your house, this morning," said the victim, for such he really was, "desiring me to call, as you had some communication to make that would be to my advantage."

"There's some mistake," replied the merchant. "No letter of the kind has emanated from us."

"Are you certain?" asked the disappointed man, in a voice greatly changed; and he drew forth the letter he had received.

L– looked at the communication, and shook his head.

"There is no truth in this, sir. I regret to say that you have, most probably, been made the victim of an idle and reprehensible jest. To-day, you are aware, is the First of April."

"Can it be possible!" exclaimed the doctor, clasping his hands together, while his face became pale and overcast with disappointment. "Who could have been so unkind, so cruel!"

"And is the disappointment very great?" said the merchant, touched with the manner of his visitor, which showed more pain than mortification at the cheat practised upon him.

With an effort at self-command, Doctor Grimes regained, to some extent, his lost composure, and rising, remarked, as he partly turned himself away—

"Forgive this intrusion, sir. I ought to have been more on my guard."

But an interest having been awakened in the mind of Mr. L–, he would not suffer his visitor to retire until he held some conversation with him. In this conversation he learned, through delicately asked questions, even more of his real condition in life than the latter meant to communicate; and he still further learned that the mother of Doctor Grimes had been one of his early friends.

"Will you be willing to take the place of Resident Physician at the – Hospital?" finally asked Mr. L.

"To one like me," replied Dr. Grimes, "that place would be exceedingly desirable. But I do not suppose I could get it."

"Why not?"

"I am a stranger here."

"Can you bring testimonials as to professional ability?" asked Mr. L–.

"I can. Testimonials of the very highest character."

"Bring them to me, doctor, at the earliest possible moment. I do not, in the least, doubt that my influence will secure you the place. I believe you have no family?"

"None."

"That may be an objection. A furnished dwelling is provided for the physician; and, I believe, one with a family is preferred."

"I have a widowed sister, who would be glad to join me; and whom I would be glad to place in so comfortable a position."

"That will do just as well, doctor. Bring over your testimonials as soon as possible. Not so much of an April fool, after all, I begin to think. Unless I am very greatly mistaken, you have heard something to your advantage."

All came out to the satisfaction of both Doctor Grimes and the kind-hearted Mr. L–. In less than a month, the former was in comfortable quarters at – Hospital, and in the receipt of twelve hundred dollars per annum. This was exclusive of rent for his sister's family—now his own—and table expenses. Moreover, for certain duties required of her in the hospital, his sister received three hundred dollars additional.

So it turned out that Dr. Grimes, so far from being made an April fool, was benefited by the wonderfully "smart" trick of Mr. Bunting. But of the particular result of his extra work, the village-jester remained ignorant. Being on the lookout, he was "tickled to death" when he saw the doctor start off post haste for New York; and he looked out for his return, anticipating rare pleasure at seeing his "face as long as his arm." But this particular pleasure was not obtained, for he didn't see the doctor afterward.

"What's become of Dr. Grimes?" he asked of one and another, after a few days had passed, and he did not see that individual on the street as before.

But none of whom he made inquiry happened to know any thing of the doctor's movements. It was plain to Bunting that, he had driven the said doctor out of the village; and this circumstance quite flattered his vanity, and made him feel of more consequence than before. In a little while, he told his secret to one and another, and it was pretty generally believed that Doctor Grimes had gone away under a sense of mortification at the storekeeper's practical joke.

"Look out for next year," said one and another. "If Doctor Grimes isn't even with you then, it'll be a wonder."

"It will take a brighter genius than he is to fool me," Bunting would usually reply to these words of caution.

The First of April came round again. Thomas Bunting was wide awake. He expected to hear from the doctor, who, he was certain, would never forgive him. Sure enough, with the day, came a letter from New York.

"You don't fool me!" said Bunting, as he glanced at the postmark. He had heard that the doctor was in, or somewhere near, the city.

"Ha! ha!" he laughed, as he read—

"If Mr. Thomas Bunting will call on Messrs. Wilde & Lyon, Pearl Street, New York, he may hear of something to his advantage."

"Ha! ha! That's capital! The doctor is a wag. Ha! ha!"

Of course, Bunting was too wide awake for this trap. Catch him trudging to New York on a fool's errand!

"Does he think I haven't cut my eye-teeth?" he said to himself exultingly, as he read over the letter. "Doctor Grimes don't know this child—he don't."

And yet, the idea that something might be lost by not heeding the letter, came stealing in upon him, and checking in a small degree the delight he felt at being too smart for the doctor. But this thought was instantly pushed aside. Of course, Bunting was not so "green," to use one of his favourite words, as to go on a fool's errand to New York.

Five or six months afterward, Bunting, while in the city on business, happened to meet Doctor Grimes.

"How are you, doctor?" said he, grasping the hand of the physician, and smiling with one of the smiles peculiar to his face when he felt that he had played off a capital joke on somebody.

"I'm well, Mr. Bunting. And how are you?" replied the doctor.

"First-rate—first-rate!" and Bunting rubbed his hands. Then he added, with almost irrepressible glee—

"You wasn't sharp enough, last April, doctor."

"Why so?" inquired Doctor Grimes.

"You didn't succeed in getting me to the city on a fool's errand."

"I don't understand you, Mr. Bunting," said the doctor seriously.

"Wilde & Lyon, Pearl Street—something to my advantage. Ha?"

The doctor looked puzzled.

"You needn't play the innocent, doctor. Its no use. I sent you on a fool's errand to New York; and it was but natural that you should seek to pay me back in my own coin. But I was too wide awake for you entirely. It takes a sharp man to catch me."