Kenosha tribune & telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1856-1859, 1856-12-25
THE DOCTORS BRIDE.
BY EMERSON BENNETT.


eve Doctors sometimes meet with
strange adventures" once said to me a
distinguished physician, with whom 1
was on terms OF intimacy.
81 have often thought" ! replied,
"that the secret history Of our profession,
written in de tail would make work of
thrilling interest"
Il do not know that I exactly agree
with you in regard to DETAIL reloined
my friend; ''for we medical men, like
every one else, meet with a great deal
that is common place, and therefore not
worthy of being recorded; but grant us
the privilege of your novelist, to select
our characters and scenes, and then work
them into a kind Of plot, with a striking
den0uDtellt, in real life, comprising only
what we have seen, which would equal
if not surpass, anything you ever met in
way of fiction. Bye the bye, believe [
never told you Of the most strange and
romantic adventure Of my life
"You never told me of any of your adj
ventures, Doctor" replied; but if you
have story to tell, you will find me an
eager listener"
every well then, as | have few min
utes to spare will tell you one more in
credibly remarkable, if may so speak,
than you probably ever found in a work
of fiction.
IL am all attention"
"Twenty-tive years ago." pursued the
Doctor, II entered the medical college
of =, rs student. | was then
quite young i'll experience, and inclined
to be timid and sentimental: and well do
| remember the horror | experienced,
when one of the senior students, under
pretence of showing me the beauties of
the institution, suddenly thrust me into
the dissectlng room, among several dead
bodies, and closed the door upon me:
nor do forget that the screeches of ter.
ror and prayer for release from that aw-
full place, made me the laughing stock
OF my companions.
''Ridicule is hard thing to bear: the
coward becomes brave to escape it, and
the brave man fears it more than he
would belchlng cannon. | suffered
from 1t till | could bear it no more; and
wrought up to a pitch Of desperation, |
demanded to know what | might do to
redeem my character, and gain an hon
orable footing among my fellow students.
Il will tell you,' said one, his eyes
sparkling with mischief; eff you will 90
at the midnight hour, and dig up a sub
ject, and take it to our room, and remain
with it alone till morning, we will let
you off, and never say another word
about your womanly fright"
81 shuddered. 1t was a fearful alter
native; but it seemed less terrible to suf-
fer all the horror that might be concen-
trated into a single night than to hear.
day after day the jeers of my com.pan-
ions.
'Nhere shall I go? and when?F was
my timid enquiry; and the very thought
of such an adventure made my blood run
cold.
ITO the Eastern Cemetry, tonight at
twelve O'clock" replied my tormentor,
fixing his keen, black eye upon me, and
allowing his thin lips to curl with smile
OF contempt. But what is the use of
asking such coward as you, to perform
such manly teat:' he added dertacting-
ly.
"His words stmg me to the quick; G
without further reflection, and scarcely
aware of what l was saying, rejoined,
boldly:
Il am no coward, sir, as l will prove
to you, by performing what you call a
manly feat"
''You will go:" he asked quickly.
II will"
'Bravely my lad.'' he rejoined in
tone of approval, and exchanged his ex-
preston OF contempt for one of surprise,
and admiration. Dc this, Morris, and
the first man that insults you afterwards,
makes an enemy OF mel"
Again | felt a cold shudder pass thro'
my frame, at the thought of what YVES
before me; but had accepted his chal-
lenge in the presence of many witnesses,
forthis conversation occurred as we were
leaving the hall after listening to an eve
ming lecture, and was resolved to make