1903 The Flowing Bowl by Edward Spencer

STRANGE SWALLOWS 125 Whilst he was going through the usual motions—no prescription can be properly made up until the chemist has overhauled every bottle on the top shelf, opened most of the empty drawers, and upset a tray of tooth-brushes—the customer was fidgeting about the shop, and fanning himself with a scented pocket-handker chief. "It's infernally hot," he said presently, "and I don't think I ever felt so thirsty in my life. Can I have a bottle of lemonade ? " " Certainly, sir." More sorting of bottles. Presently "pop" goes a cork, and the sparkling lemonade is poured into a mammoth tumbler. The customer drains it at once. " Ah-h-h ! " he crowed, wiping his mouth. " I feel a bit better now." A pause. Presently he asked :— " Have you made that up yet ?" " What, sir ?" asked the chemist. "Why that stuff—the castor-oil I ordered." "You've had it, sir." " Had it! Wotty mean ? " " I gave it you in the lemonade, sir. "Great Scotland Yard!" exclaimed the customer. " I didn't want it for myself I m going to be married in half an hour I"