The Portland daily press., 1862-11-18
MISCELLANY.
Ornheus r. aerr on Army Surgery.

Enron 7, ". There is a certain something
about n sick room, my BOY, that makes me
Shink neryously of my latter end, and recog-
nize nh v,icians as the true heroes of The batte-
field. The subdued swearing Of the sufferer on
his BED the mutfied tread of the venerable
muse, as she comes into the room to make sure
that the brandy recommended by the doctor is
not too mild for the patient, the sepulchral tone
of the regimentd cat as she recognizes the
tread of Lord Mortimer, the sergeants bull ter
rier, outside; all these are things to make the
spectator remember that we are but DUST and
that to return to dust is our destiny.
Early in the week. my boy, member of the
Pennsylvania mud-larks was made sick in a
strange manner. A draft of picked men from
certain regiments were ordered for perilous
expedition down the river. You may be aware
my boy, that draft is always dangerous to
delicate constitutions, aud, as the mud-lark
happened to burst into proluse perspiration
about the time he found himself standing in
this draft, he, of course, took such violent
cold that he had to be put to bed directly. L
went to see him, my boy: and whilst he
was relating to me some affecting anecdotes of
the time when he used to keep bar, member
of the Medical Staff of the United States of
America came in to see the patient.
This venerable surgeon first depos.teda large
saw, Ratchet, and two pickaxes on the table
and then, said he.
allow do you find yourself, boy?"
The mud-ark took small chew of tobacco
with a melancholy air, aud says he:
II think I've got the guitar in my head Mr..
Sawbones, and am about to join the angel
choir"
~ see how it is" said the surgeon thought
fully; you think you've got the guitar, when
it's only the drum of your ear that Is affected.
WE'LL" said the surgeon, with sudden pleas
antness, as he reached after the saw and one
of the pickaxes, Il must amputate your leg at
once.n
The mud-lark curled himself up in bed like
wounded anaconda, and says he:
81 don't see it in that light"
"Well,' said the surgeon, in a sp lightly man
ner, "then suppose put fy-blister on your
stomach and only amputate your right armw
The surgeon was formerly blacksmith, my
boy, and got his diploma by inventing some
pills with iron in them. He proved that the
blood of six healthy men contained enough
iron to make six horse shoes, and then invent
ed the pills to cure hoarseness.
The sick chap reflected on what his medical
adviser had said and then says he:
"Your words convince me that my situation
must be dangerous. must see some relative
before permit myself to be dissected.n
"Whom do you wish to send for? ~ says the
my grandmother, my dear old grandmoth-
err" said the mud-lark with much feeling
The surgeon took me cautiously aside, and
says he:
my poor patient has a cold in his head, and
his life depends, perhaps, on the qualification
of his wishes. You have heard him ask for
his grandmother" says the surgeon softly, "and
as his grandmother lives too far away to be
sent for, we must practice little harmless de-
ception. We must send for Secretary Welles,
of the Navy Department and introduce him
as the grandmother. Ny patient will never
know the difference"
took the hint my boy, and went after the
Secretary but the latter was so busy examin-
ing a model of Noahs Ark, that he could not
be seen. Happily, however, the patient recov-
cred while the surgeon was getting his saw
filed, and was well enough last night to recon-
hotter 10 force.