The Portland daily press., 1872-01-23
THE PR ESS.
TUESDAY MORNING, JAN. 2s, 1879.
from the Detroit Free Press.l
M. Quad's Epistle.
A CHEERFUL wREsTLE WITH THE SMALLPOX

A CHEERFUL wREsTLE WITH THE SMALLPOX
Never had it, did you? Well, you can't
imagine how good it makes one feel to have
1t, get well, and then walk around and real
ize that he is safe forever more. Whenever
you see group of men on the corner, you
start for them, break into the conversation,
and inquire if they know that fifty new cases
of small pox have been reported since yes
terday. There won't be a cheerful spirit left
in two minutes. Some will go up the street.
some down, and some around the Jrner but
you can rest assured that you have started a
train of thoughts which can't be interrupted
for three hours. This isn't enough. Get in
to street car, wait until it is crowded, and
then commence to tell how you felt when
coming down; how your neighbors for
block around went off in the night to see
their country relatives; how the doctor stood
over birthstone fire in the hall before COM
ing into your room; how your drink and pro-
visions were handed in through hole in the
door, and how the doctor left you one day
with the cheerful remark that you would be
dead in less than two hours. In two min
utes you will be the central object of the
crowd, and the information OF legacy
wouldn't bring smile to any face. You
of the humane and liberal-minded passengers
will conclude to give you even more room
than you want by getting out and trying the
sidewalks.
1t is a popular error, that idea that per-
son having the small pox will surely die if he
allows himself to get nervous and frightened.
Get as nervous and as frightened as you
want to. The knowledge that four out of
every five patients die is not cheerful pros
pect, and there won't be any one around to
tickle you with good jokes and intricate con-
undrums. The first thing is to go to doc
tors office and ask him if you have really
got the disease. If he looks as If he would
like to jump under the table after feeling of
your pulse and looking at your tongue, you
needn't wait any longer. You might stop
and examine the skull ON the table, or the
anatomicalpictures on the wall, but you won't
if you have any feelings for the doctor. In
going home, go by the way of the alleys
that is, if you don't care to infect two or
three hundred people. Reaching the house,
you ring, hang ON to the door, and when the
girl comes shout through the door that you
have boil on your neck, and that the family
had better go out in the country for few
days. This deception is in order not to alarm
the family by giving them true knowledge
Of your situation. Hang ronnd the corner
grocery until you see them off, and shake
hands with all the police you meet. The po-
lice are paid for looking after your health,
and the folks in the grocery will slander you
as soon as the sign appears on the door.
On getting into the house, shout to boy
through the window to inform the police
what ails you, He wont want any pay for
doing it, and in half an hour you will see all
the pedestrians crossing over to the other side
of the street. Wait for the doctor The
sound of the hammer tacking up smallpox
tho door will ha tho ov,lr TO
the monotony. The doctor will put you in
bed, tell you not to get frightened it you hear
burglars about, and leave the medicine where
you can get it. You can lay there and plan
and think, and build castles, and listen to the
tick of the clock, and hear the neighbors mov-
ing out, and no one will disturb you till night
Then change of medicine, prediction that
you have got it the worst way, and the doctor
leaves. You lie and dream, or you toss about
and rave-yOu are not restricted. The doc
tor comes in the morning, is disappointed
that you are no worse, and predicts that you
will live for several days. He is now sure
that it is the smallpox, and so are you. A
nurse, one who has had it, comes up to re-
main until you die, and the days go by until
the tenth. If you don't die then you are go
ing to get well. In order to lose no time,
word is sent to the sexton, and your wife is
telegraphed to that you are dead. But you
don't die. just as the doctor has lost your
pulse, and the nurse begins to rejoice at his
release, you mend little, open your eyes, go
off to sleep, and you are saved. Such little
things as burning up your clothing and all
the furniture after you get able to walk are
not worth mentioning and no one ever stops
to question you about the pits on your face.
If it's handy, the best plan is to have a turn
at the disease in your childhood. This saves
expense, and the coroner don't never think of
slandering you because you didn't break your
neck and go off with some romance attached
70 II