The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1878-02-21
Mr.. Chicksleys' IrOnclad Bitters.

Last fall Mr.. Chicksley had siege of
ague, and, among other remedies recon-
mended by friends, was induced to try
quinine and whisky, under the delusion
that it would be pleasant to take. He
procured pint of spirits into which he
dumped an ounce or two of quinine,
and then fixed his mouth for big taste
of fluid sunshine. He didn't get it, but
found something else that almost dis
located his spine. Mr.. Chicksley then
thought he would put in some neutral
izing element that would tone down the
taste and make it endurable, so he got
lemon and squeezed it into the bottle.
This only seemed to intensity and aggra-
vate the penetrating qualities of the
quinine until he was ready to affirm and
make it binding that he could taste it
clear through to the soles of his boots for
two days afterward. He didn't care to
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 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 a very
dizzy feeling.
Are you subject to these attacks?'
inquired the lady of the house.
Oh, yes, mann, l has 'em often, an
powerful bad, too, sometimes. When
ever they comes on I has to drop
wherever I happens to be-"
Can't I do something to relieve you?
What do you generally take when you
have them?'
az ginerally takes gin, nam, when I
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 little more of it. Hain't you
got little spirits of some kind, mann,
that you could give me few drops to
put on my tonguef A very little would
revive me right up an set me on my
feet agin'. It's a rush of blood to the
head, the doctor says, and / hain't safe
from another tack till I git little
spirits to scatter it."
"Dear me-" said the sympathetic
Mrs. Chicksiey, it's too bad to see you
suffer SO; but I haven't any thing of that
kind in the house, not even camphor.
But--yes--yes--Pve got some bitters
my husband had when he was sick Do
you suppose that would help you any9"
"Dear me! oh, my head my head
Git the bottle quicA--it may help me, if
it has any strength in it. Hurry, please
| do, feel faint ag'in."
You'll find it strong enough" !"
thought Mrs. G. 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,
abstracted way, removed the cork, and
glued her lips to the neck of the flask in
long-drawn, industrious sip. Mrs. G.
watched her closely, but there was moth
ing in the blank, stolid face to give
clue as to what the tasting appar-
atus of the woman thought about
it. With a 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 ruminating 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 a considerable interval
by which time the washerwoman seemed
to have got her foot on the solid rock o.
certainty, and said:
"That's a mighty prime order o
bitters, Mrs. Chicksley--mighty prime
It's s'archin' too, now you kin believ,
me, an goes right to the bottom of m!
J complaint without any sashayin' an
} foolin' around; but don't you think
: mann, that your man has got jest leetl
mite more tanzy into 'em than he or
to had?"
Before the days wash was on the lin,
. the salamander had several more attacks
and when Chicksley got home that nigh
and was shown the small residue of hi
: ironclad chill-breaker that had escape,
! devastation, he was just idiot enough t
> try on a swallow of it himself to see if
t hadn't lost it's strength. If he ever re
: covers from the lock-jaw that imme
E diately followed we may be able to lear
z I;c ny,ioiop NJ, tba c,,b,oof