D R . J. B. C L U T T E R B U C K was the nephew of a famous London practitioner, and his manner was as
out of the way as his name. N o t getting on as well as expected, he moved from Melbourne to Kilmore, and not a bad joke arose out of his departure from town to country. In advertising his meditated exit in the Herald, the township to which his allegiance was to be transferred was by some typographical fatality printed "Kill-more," a lapsus emphasized by a special paragraph, which was read with m u c h amusement. That a Melbourne medico could by any possible wilfulness have the heart to kill anyone was too m u c h for the c o m m o n belief; but when the m a n himself, over his own sign manual, deliberately published his intention of going to " Kill-more," those w h o usually did not pay m u c h attention to the capitalizing or punctuation of what they read, looked up from the newspaper, and could account for the m a d announcement upon no other supposition than that the doctor was as " m a d as a hatter." Clutterbuck was so mercilessly chaffed over the printer's accidental or designed mishap, that he rushed in rage to the Herald office, and had the editor been there before him, the doctor was in a fair way of correcting the erratum of Kill-more, by certainly either wholly or in part killing some one. T h e production of the M S . , however, turned the tables in a manner not expected, for therein the n a m e of the country town was spelt with a "double 1," and in a handwriting too that left little doubt as to the authorship. DR. W. H. CAMPBELL.—Towards the end of 1841 there was a flutter of excitement in the then few fashionable dove cotes of Melbourne, and the unwedded pigeons cooed with delight, for a young sEsculapian had arrived, and was soon k n o w n by the flattering sobriquet of "the handsome doctor." This unassuming personage was M r . William Henry Campbell, a youthful surgeon, He who left England with high credentials, and selected Melbourne as his adopted home. was until recently amongst us (1888), traversing the streets with the same upright figure, and firm, but less elastic instep, as of yore; and a person looking at him might well fancy what a fine specimen of manhood he was seven and forty years ago. T h e circlet of whisker still surrounding his frank, honest face, n o w snow white, was then coal black, and there was superadded a luxuriant, well-pruned moustache, which in an age when hairy faces were deemed a relic of some remote barbarism, by its novelty added a piquancy to his appearance, which for a brief season rendered him the most observed and perhaps the most admired of the few presentable bachelors constituting the chief prizes in the great lottery of life presided over by Cupid and Hymen. Campbell pitched his tent in a cottage at the corner of Nicholson and Palmer Streets, Fitzroy, opposite the Convent; but the place was then a picturesque, bushy wilderness, on the outskirts of the suburbs of Newtown, where the most sanguine never dreamed a Sisterhood of Mercy would ever exist. Here he waited patiently for patients; but none came, a circumstance he could not well comprehend, until one day a medical friend communicated the astounding information that if he waited for business until doomsday he should be troubled with little or none until he put away the hirsute adornments with which he was physiognomically garnished. T h e Melbournians, he added, distrusted people, especially professionals, with other than closely-shaved faces. Whiskers of moderate dimensions might be tolerated, but as for any medical practitioner w h o sported a semi-circle of hair between his nose and upper lip to expect a call from any family of standing in " society," it was simply preposterous. A second though lesser obstacle was the fact of Campbell being a celibate, and the conclusion sought to be enforced was that he could never have a reasonable chance of making any perceptible way until he called in the services of a barber and a clergyman, and submitted himself to the tonsor.al and connubial ordeals. This was "a heavy blow and great discouragement" to the young surgeon, then standing on the threshold of his career, and he took it m u c h to heart. A s to the second alternative-to marry a wife-that difficulty was not insurmountable, and it was an infliction he could survive; but to cast from him his moustache and whiskers, which he adored as a M a h o m m e d a n doth his beard, perish the thought! H e would sooner pitch his scalpel and lancet to the winds than turn infidel to the hair-worship in which he so implicitly believed. A few days' reflection, however, soon reduced the temperature of his enthusiasm. T h e patients still shunned his door-bell. Other friends remonstrated, and at length he half-capitulated to the prejudices of
