The Massachusetts spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1821-1823, 1823-08-20

mother, anxiously.
A little taasy. say, and fresh rue, re-
sumed the Aunt-yes, and catnip,-said
the daughter; Aunt Dorothy always
uses catnip.
My dear ladies, exclaimed, for mer-
cy's sake spare me. am not sick and
Come-said my friend, who had now
finished his breakfast, and perceived
that had with difficulty kept my coun-
tenance during these various prescrip-
tions-l will walk with you; and taking
me by the arm, we set forth together.
"How are you, my good fellow" was
the rough salutation of the first man we
met. 1t was Captain X.-My friend re-
piled to his greeting very cordially; but
shook his head as he looked at me.
Aye-I see how it is, said Captain X.
Poor fellow !-consumptive. But
never mind, take voyqge, and all will
be well.
thanked him for his kindness, and
passed on; and for the first time in my
life began to fancy that | felt something
that was little like pain in my side
but was not certain.
A few steps onward we met Mr.. O.
long, lank, and lean, the very image of
famine. He accosted US with a lam
guild bow, and glancing his eyes at me
ga fine morning this, sir, especially for
those, who like you and |, are dying of
dyspepsia"
Dyspepsia II never had it in my
life.
All, | understand You are bon vii-
rant, and you cannot bear TO be deprived
of the pleasures Of the table. But you
must come to it. You must take pre-
pared chalk and rhubarb every morning
for breakfast, and drink liquid n,agmesia
instead of coffee. At dinner you must
eat only an ounce Of beef and half
cracker; but at supper you may indulge
freely in lime 7vater. Lewis Cornaro,
sir
was a model beyond my imitation,
| exclaimed somewhat pettishly, and
passed on
was by this time near the door of
Mr.. P. and seeing the bright eyes Of
Mary at the parlour window, ventur-
ed, though ii was early, TO make call
upon her. AS turned toward the door,
chaise that was passing raised cloud
of dust that filled for a moment my eyes
and throat | entered the room with
slight cough.
All, that cough of yours, said Mary's
mother, it will bring you to the grave.
Nothing but the dust, said.
This answer seemed to awaken all
her sympathy. She said something
about the tlattering nature of certain dis
orders, and proceeded at once to get
me dose of Ba!sam 7ola. Her kind
ness was so importunate that resistance
was vain; | took the glass, and was in
the very act of raising it to my lips,
when the door opened, and three ladies
entered, two of them with black hoods
and the third with spectacles.
am lost man muttered to my
self. But Mary was near, and thought
read in her eyes some hope of life.
One of the black hooded ladies' imme-
dlately addressed me. You do well TO
take care of yourself, sir. You look as
| if your lungs were affected. Have you
ever tried onion tea?
Never, madam. | am not sick, and
detest onions. All, you must not be too
squeamish; health is at stake. Three
tumbIers of onion tea, taken hot, every
forenoon at II o'clock, would soon re-
lieye you. There is no trouble in if.
Take only peck of onions.
And make them into good poult;ce,
interrupted the other black hood, and
wear them upon your breast all the
time, and you will soon be we'll. Moth
ing opens the pores, and relieves
cough like an onion poultice.
turned IA despairlng eye upon Mary.
An onion poultice, and morning call.
Shade of Esculapius
If you talk of poultices, said she with
the spectacles, my prescription is butter
cups and sharp vinegar. Take double
handful of buttercups-
And drink rosemary and honey, said the
first black hood.
That is good, said the second, but
butter and molasses is better.
Or. farseed tea, said Mary's mother.
Or sobeat bran, said Mary, with boil
ing water poured over it, and sweetened
with loaf sugar. You love sOheat bran,
| know.
There was a little archness in her
manner that led me to suspect she was
not above half serious. | made her
low bow in token Of Acknowledgement