"
"So they are. What's the good of beating about the
bush, laddie? My methods are all unprofessional, and I
break every law of medical etiquette as often as I can
think of it. You know very well that the British Medical
Association would hold up their hands in horror if it
could see what you have seen to-day."
"But why not conform to professional etiquette?"
"Because I know better. My boy, I'm a doctor's son,
and I've seen too much of it. I was born inside the
machine, and I've seen all the wires. All this etiquette
is a dodge for keeping the business in the hands of
the older men. It's to hold the young men back, and to
stop the holes by which they might slip through to the
front. I've heard my father say so a score of times. He
had the largest practice in Scotland, and yet he was
absolutely devoid of brains. He slipped into it through
seniority and decorum. No pushing, but take your turn.
Very well, laddie, when you're at the top of the line,
but how about it when you've just taken your place at the
tail? When I'm on the top rung I shall look down and
say, `Now, you youngsters, we are going to have very
strict etiquette, and I beg that you will come up very
quietly and not disarrange me from my comfortable
position.' At the same time, if they do what I tell
them, I shall look upon them as a lot of infernal
blockheads. Eh, Munro, what?"
I could only say again that I thought he took a very
low view of the profession, and that I disagreed with
every word he said.
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