The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1870-01-27
An Illinois Invalid.
( From the Boston Advertiser.

From the Boston Advertiser
Il tell you, sir, that truth is stranger
than fiction.
~ esp said [, with a studied effor, 10
play the agreeable to the new conner.
We were sitting at plain but well spread
table in the kitchen Of western farm house.
Every thlng was on a generous scale, from
the rolling prairie with its billowy reaches.
down to the hay stack and the big wood
pile near the door. Within the house the
same ample greeting was prominent. |
had spent the day since the December sun
rise IN hunting up section corners and es
tablshlng boundary lines ter any host. We
ments had proven remarkably correct, for
the chain slipped smoothly along on the
frozen SNOW. The great Liilycache sloo. in
whose centre Was a bottomess mire, was
nicely crusted over, and the rank e-ass in
woven with the ice made the crossing safe.
20 we had passed over where many horse
had been srnothered in the mud while ven
turing to tord the sluggish proof. Thus
we had escaped a roundabout path an! had
realized the privilege over which every true
western exuits, viz: that of making a bee
llne between any two points. Hence We
were In excellent spirits as We sat down to
the smoking hot supper Mr.. Felderkin
with his two boys waited 70. no ceremony
and | followed THEN example bunting NV
keen appetite with savoy mor>els. Two
buxom daughters were hustllng around the
kitchen and replenishing the table while
their vigorous mother, with hospitality
shining all over her red face, was watching
with care, lest We should for moment see
the bottom OF cup or plate.
We had nearly eaten our way through to
victory, and some OF Us had pushed back to
rest on our laurels and to ogie the damsels.
when the door opened, and in stepped
man OF medium statue, rosy cheeks, long
reddish hair intelligent face, and about
forty i've years OF aye.
How are you, David Pc said our host.
and turning to me, exclaimed in his hearty
tones, Stranger, this are Mr. Spencer, the
sickest man that God ever made. Now,
David, tell this Yankee some of your great
moral truths"
Thus introduced and challenged, Spencer
gazed solemny into my face, and, seeing
expectation there depicted, he uttered the
original phrase with which this sketch
begins. | had so often quizzed, "a youth
from New England, that | hardly knew
what to expect, and therefore waited for
Spencer to proceed.
At this stage. Mrs. I. in the kindness of
her heart poured out a bowl of milk and
offered it to her hew conner. He took il in
silence, sw flowed i; at almost a single gulp,
sat down the crockery with slam, and,
sinking into chair, appeared to be griped
with terrible pain. Perhaps you would
rather have had water" said the hostess
timldly. well, Tarm, drinking milk is
about like taking pills to me, but it's no
consequence now ats down" replied the
gloomy man.
Thinking to.relieve the good lady's con
fusion, | asked Mr.. Spencer II he had re-
Gently been Ill. Had my query been
patent corkscrew and Mr.. Spencer bottle
OF restless champagne, the explosion could
not have been more Immediate. I'll, sir
Ill! that little VOID Is too short, sir Ill
yoi see nothing, sir, but NV remains, |
have been David Spencer. .Noec, sir may
say, without intending disrespec, TO nv
wife, am the relic OF the late ID. S. Let
me, give you stranger, in few words, a
my troubles
My lungs are badly cut up One of
them Is clear gone-coi apsad, the doctor
says--shliseied up Ike a blacksmith 5
apron. The other one looks better, but
doesn't amount To much Hive often bed
a quart at once. aud thought it not worth
mentioning. | take toas breath now and
then, and have au awful time, boating up
hike a toad
But that isn't the worst. Ny liver
plaques me wi.h an old trick. IL turns
Itself inside cut aud waniers over nv sys-
tem- suppose, stranger. that the greater
part of my liver l. inside OF those boots,
thruSflng out his TWO cowhiies from under
the table
But have another curious disease. -
Soli.e of the doctors say it's paralysis. but
oue medicine man calls II intermittent lock
jazz, and reckon be ; right. il jus, grabs
me and shuts nae right up AL over Can t
81. isusc.e: teeth all looked ,oga,her like
"a, trap: can't talk or wink my left eye