The new dominion. [volume] (Morgantown, W. Va.) 1876-1904, 1878-03-02
Mr.. Chicksleys' Ironclad Bitters.

Last fall Mr.. Chicksley had siege O
ague, and, among other remedies recon-
mended by friends, was induced to try
quinine and whisky, under the delusol
that it would be pleasant to take. III,
procured pint of spirits into which h,
! dumped an ounce or two of quinine
and then fixed his mouth for big tast,
of fluid sunshine. He didn't get it, bu
found something else that almost dis
located his spine. Mr. Chicksley ther
thought he would put in some neutral
| izing element that would tone down the
taste and make it endurable, SO he got d
lemon and squeezed it into the bottle
This only seemed to intensity and aggra
vatc the penetrating qualities Of the
quinine until he was ready to affirm ano
make it binding that he could taste i,
clear through to the soles of his boots fol
two days afterward. He didn't care 10
experiment any further in that direction,
and putting the bottle away in a cup
board, managed in time to break the
shakes by other means.
Last week Mrs. Chicksley got a new
washerwoman--one of the Sairy Camp
sisterhood--and about the middle OF
the forenoon was informed by the nurse
girl that the woman had dropped plump
down in tub of clothes in fainting fit.
Mrs. Chicksley ran in very much
alarmed, and found her just recovering
consciousness. The woman complained
of burning pain in the head and very
dizzy feeling.
Are you subject to these attacks p
inquired the lady of the house.
Oh, yes, nam, has 'em often, an
powerful bad, too, sometimes. When
ever they comes on has to drop
wherever happens to be-"
Can't l do something to relieve you?
What do you generally take when you
have themp
~ ginerally takes gin, nam, when !
kin git it. Nuthin' seems to reach for
these pains in my, head like gin does,
though whisky's well-nigh as good, but
it takes a little more of it. Hain't you
got a little spirits of some kind, man,
that you could give me few drops to
put on my tonguei A very little would
revive me right up an set me on my
feet agin'. It's rush of blood to the
head, the doctor says, and l hain't safe
from another tack till l git little
spirits to scatter it."
Dear me-" said the sympathetic
Mrs. Chicksley, " it's too bad to see you
suffer so; but haven't any thing of that
kind in the house, not even camphor
But---yes--yes--Tve got some bitters
my husband had when he was sick Do
you suppose that would help you anyT
Dear mel oh, my headl my head
tho hnt Ia xtplr hal In mn 4
it Las any strength in it. Hurry, please
do, feel faint agin."
You'll find it strong enough"
thought Mrs. c. as she ran for the bottle.
The mere sight of the bottle, as Mrs.
G. returned with the medicine, revived
the washerwoman agood deal As it WAS
handed to her she raised her eyes to the
ceiling, rolled them about in dreamy,
distracted way, removed the cork, and
glued her lips to the neck of the flask in
a long-drawn, industrious sip. Mrs. @.
watched her closely, but there was moth
ing in the blank, stolid face to give
a clue as TO what the tasting appar-
atus of the woman thought about
it. With sigh like the moan of
a sick man, she removed the bottle and
let her hand drop to her lap, and for
two or three minutes she sat there
silently, as if Illuminating in far away
thought, breaking the stiffness only with
little smacks of the lips, indicating that
she was trying with all the power in her
to make out and understand that bitters.
Then up went the bottle again and down
the perplexing fluid gurgled in much
more liberal dose than before. After
this came another repetition of the tast-
ing process for considerable interval,
by which time the washerwoman seemed
to have got her foot on the solid rock of
certainty, and said:
"Thats a mighty prime order OF
bitters, Mrs. Chicksley--mighty prime.
It's s'archin' too, now you kin believe
me, an goes right to the bottom of my
complaint without any sashayin' an
foolin' around; but don't you think,
nam, that your man has got jest leetle
mite more tanzy into 'em than he or't
to hadY"
Before the days wash was on the line
the salamander had several more attacks,
and when Chicksley got home that night
and was shown the small residue OF his
ironclad chill-breaker that had escaped
devastation, he was Just idiot enough to
try on swallow of it himself to see If it
hadn't lost it's strength. If he ever re.
covers from the lock-jaw that imme-
diately followed we may be able to learn
his opinion on the subject.
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