not wholesome, Sir,’ says the doctor, wery fierce. ‘But they’re so cheap,’ says the patient, comin’ down a little, ‘and so wery fillin’ at the price.’ ‘They’d be dear to you, at any price; dear if you wos paid to eat ’em,’ says the doctor. ‘Four crumpets a night,’ he says, ‘vill do your business in six months!’ The patient looks him full in the face, and turns it over in his mind for a long time, and at last he says, ‘Are you sure o’ that ’ere, Sir?’ ‘I’ll stake my professional reputation on it,’ says the doctor. ‘How many crumpets, at a sittin’, do you think ’ud kill me off at once?’ says the patient. ‘I don’t know,’ says the doctor. ‘Do you think half-a-crown’s wurth ’ud do it?’ says the patient. ‘I think it might,’ says the doctor. ‘Three shillins’ wurth ’ud be sure to do it, I s’pose?’ says the patient. ‘Certainly,’ says the doctor. ‘Wery good,’ says the patient; ‘good night.’ Next mornin’ he gets up, has a fire lit, orders in three shillins’ wurth o’ crumpets, toasts ’em all, eats ’em all, and blows his brains out.”