Ashtabula weekly telegraph. [volume] (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1853-1873, 1872-02-24
The Sick Deacon.

o"ouiu oe 'HoIoupnll NtnllIalcu.
The Sick Deacon,
Jedediah Waterman was n substantial
farmer in Johnson lie was a deacon in
church, voted the Wing ticket, sub
scribed to the county paper, and was, in
all respects, a worthy and substantial
citizen ot the old school He was nigh
upon sixty. when he used to say that he
had never had pain nor ache IN his life,
and had never passed an hour in bed ex-
cept for his natural sleep, never on ac.
count of sickness or bodily weakness.
But it came tu pass that the good Dca-
con felt the need of medical advice, and
he sent for the doctor. DIR. Fiske drove
up in that old-tashioned sulky, old-fash
ioned even in that day, and his old hay
horse--nObody recollecis them but me
and arrived at the Deacun's house, at
high noon, and just as one of the Dea,
cons hired inen was blowing the horn
for dinner. This may not have been al
together accidental, Tor the Deacon was
! famous for his good cheer, and the doc
tor, like all other doctors that we have
ev"r heard of, was not altogether indif
ferent to the rational pleasures Of the
table,
Arrived Just at the hour, the Deacon
suggested that it would not be well to
let the dinner cool while the consultation
went on, which might as we'll be deferred
a little while and, the case being evil
dehtIy not dangerous one, the Doctor
did not press the matter, and, not to
waste the tine, took n seat at the we'll
spread table, whose grateful steam rose
up in the most provocative flavor. The
/ Deacon reverenlly asked blessing, and
then, having served his distinguished
guest, betook him TO the work before
him. 1t was what he called q "biled
dinner, and his wife mad e some needless
apologies, declaring that, if she had
known the doctor was coming, she
would have had better one And the
Deacon said, "Nonsense, ma, the Doctor
knows that we are plain folks, and as he
is on professional business" here the
Deacon looked gravely conscious. she
will be content to take uS as he finds us. }
But the Doctor said that the dinner was
capital and the Doctor was right, as he
usually was.
slice Of pork and passed the plate over
10 his wiIe, who put upon it TWO pota-
toes, with due quantity of turnip, beet,
squash, cabbage aud applessaucc, and
and passed the smoking pyramid as safe
y over to the Doctor Everything was
Of the Deacon's own raising, and his
wife's own cooking. A large pitcher of
cider-we can't help it, good templar,
we are telling this story just as ii took
place which Hesekiah, The deacon's
youngest son, named after his uncle,
famous revival preacher, went down
cellar twice to fill adorned the plenteous
board. After all this came some apple
dumplings and then Mrs. Waterman
brought on he chef d'oeavre, (she didn't
call it by any such ouldndish name,) her
pies-she was famous for pies--apple,
mince and pumpkin, one piece of each,
Il sixth Of a pie, conseicntiouslv divided,
was put on each plate, and kinds OF
cheese and sage.
Such was the dinner to which the in
valid invited the physician, aud to which
both did ample justice. When it was
finished, and the deacon took a final pull
at the cider, he wiped his mouth, and
with a melancholy air approached the
subject of his malaiy, which the doctor
might have been excused for quite for.
getting. The doctor inquired about his
digestion, his sleep, his lungs and his
liver. He looked at Ills tongue he felt
his pulse, little quickcned by the mid
day exercise that he had gone through,
but regular, firm, and apparently health
ful. Quite baffled in his search for the
hidden disorder, the doctor shook his
head gravely, as doctors are wont to do,
and said
'Well. what 10 you think is the mat
ter with you, deacon p
WELL said the deacon, Il can't tell
what it is but somehow or other it
seems as it as though ! set down here,
as did just now, and eat tllf an hour
or so, and my appetite is all gone"