Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1873-07-04

WITHOUT ANY C0URfING.

ehouShC oo, uuu WAS uepreSScu; ne naO
headaches, and he hated the dusty street,
in which the summer heat burnt and the
summer sun shone before the green leaves
and draped the streets, and the squares of
grass and wisteria vines and plotted gera.
NUNS which have come to be so blessedly
popular In New York. lents its summers
freshness.
What shall do, doctor?" he said TO
thej white-headed old physician. You
say nothing ails me, but l can tell what
my feelings are better than you can.
know shall be down with something
soon. rode in car with dozen dirty
children,i the other day-going to the
smallpox hospital, l haven't doubt
very red and nasty looking, all Of m and
while | was buying something in q store,
the other day, horrible old woman beg
ged of me because her husband was sick
with the typhoid. No doubt I've caught
both diseases, and it's the complication
that puzzles you. Couldn't relish my cof-
fee this morning; left my milk toast un-
touched. Hateful life, that of a bachelor
at hotel. Oh, dear mel"
why don't you marry, then? p said the
doctor
They need so much courting,' said Mr..
Patterson. You spend six months or so,
at least, dangling at a woman's apron
strings. You must go to the theatre and
opera if she is gay, and to the church
meeting if she is pious. At fifty man
likes his slippers and dressing gown and
easy chair of an evening. Ii it was just
stepping over to the clergyman's and get
ting married, put ring on her finger and
saying or nodding yes two or three
times, why | wouldn't mind it, you
know"
"Ah, well, counting is the fun of it all,
in my opinion. said the old doctor. "but
every one to his taste. And my advice to
you is to go into the country"
ITO another hotel and more mercernary
waiterspn said Mr.. Patterson.
NO. said the doctor, '.go into nice
private home. | know one--a motherly
widow lady, who cooks Il dinner fit for
king. River before the house, woods be-
hind it, orchard to the left. kitchen garden
to the right no fever and ugue; mosqui-
toes. Heavenly! l am going up there
tomorrow, and I'll see If she'll take YOU
Very WELL" said Mr.. Patterson, II
think I'll try it."
''And you must drink plenty OF milk,
and eat plenty OF nice home made bread"
said the doctor
"Yes. l will,n said Patterson. overjoyed
at last at hearing something that sounded
like prescription. 'And you would adj
wise milk ~
Quart OF it every day" said the doctor.
''Ill take II note of it." said Patterson.
"And if should be very i'll she'll nurse
me ?''
Mr.. Patterson thought the matter over,
and thought better of it every day, and
when the little ncte, informing him that
the widow would be willing to "take him
in and do for him. reached him, he had
his trunk and portmanteau already pack
ed, and was ready to start that afternoon.
AS for the widow, the doctor had prepar-
ed her for her boarder's peculiaritieS
thus:
Nice fellow; solid; plenty Of money;
thinks himself i'll, but isn't; ought to be
married; told him so, but he hates the
idea of courting; marrying off some day,
no doubt: will you have me p Yes.
Call in clergyman Over Very peculiar
old bachelor; but then old bachelors are
peculiar generally"
The widow was what Yankees call an
amazing smart woman. She had married
at sixteen, and had never failed to have
washing over when other people were
hanging out theirs. Her bread always
rose, her cake was always good. and her
butter was always sweet. At forty-fiyf
she had married off all her daughters, and
was well-to-do, buxom and happy.
Her son and his wife boarded with her,
and she added to her plentiful savings by
taking II summer boarder, or two ii they
happened to offer.
Fifty and bacheldor," said Mrs.
Muntle, looking at the glass. "Well. it
seems pity; but then elderly gentlemen
marry, generally, some hitytity girl. that
leads them n terrible life. and likely it's
for the best"
Then she looked at the glass again. for
the widow was but irail woman after
all.
| Mr.. Patterson came to the widows and
obeyed the doctors prescription faithfully.
lie ate bread and drank milk, robbed the
the orchards like school boy, and de-
claimed over the strawberry short-cake
after fashion that would have made his
reputation at the bar Then, too, Mrs.
Muntle did not smile at his aches and
pains, and insist that he must Ike perpet-
ually well because he had fresh com
pleXion and dimples in his cheeks. She
had savory herb teas and pOtions whieh
she produced when he complained OF feel
ing miserable, and she had that blessing
to hypochondriacs, homeopathic box ana
book in the house.
There were remedies in that box for
everything; and it was pleasant to find
that when there was crawling sensation
in your flesh, or kind of uneasy feeling in
your legs, there were dear little globules
to be had just suited for the symptoms
that to find yourselves very angry about
nothing indicated pulsatilla. and that even
for unrequited love there was medicine.
For two months and more Mr.. Patterson
boarded with Mrs. Muntle, and happier
months he had never lived through. Then
he went back to the city for 4 few weeks,
returned in urgent need of more pellets
from the medicine chest, and stayed until
the last pink chrysanthemum was bloom
ing on its withered branches. He had
grown so fond of his little room. with its
white curtains and fresh grass bleached
linen, of the country good things, and Of
the cozy nursing Of buxom Mrs. Muntle,
that he could scarcely bear the thought OF