The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1881-03-31
How He Was Cured.

Mr.. Jones was sick, and Mrs. Jones
was nearly worried to death about him.
The night before he had been kept out
late on business, and in the morning he
woke with dreadful headache, a throb-
bing pulse, and an incoherency of
speech that was very alarming. Mrs.
Jones at once insisted upon sending for
her doctor, new one whom Jones had
never met. She felt sure ii at DR.. Steele
could cure him if he were not already
past mortal aid.
! 1t was all one to Jones; he was aw-
fully SEX; and. although he would have
preferred syllabied doctor that
he knew. he told his wife to send for
Steele or the undertaker-he didn't
care much which OF them came, 'Oh-
oh oh.' and he Hoped over and pulled
the bed-clothes over his head.
Perhaps he fell asleep again, but
hand removing the quilt from his
face brought him back to mundane
things, and before he could open his
eyes his wrist was grasped, and for a
moment he thought he was going
to die, sure enough. There was buzz
zing sound in his ears, and something
thrilled up and down his spine, and he
felt as if some one had lifted hot stove
/ lid off the top of his head and was fam
ming his heated brain with a hand-em-
broIdered fan, and he opened his eyes,
thinking he must be in Heaveni But
no! there was the familiar room, but an
angel with bangs and q Tam o. Shanter
hat was bending over him. He tried to
speak, but the only thing he could think
I of to say was. Beautiful vision! what
art thou?'' "Hushn' said the vision,'
-" L m the doctor! You must not talk,
only to answer my questions. You are
a very sick man; your pulse is 1309, and,
/ if it should go up to the other half, you
will die. Now, where were you last
night?' Jones hair stood ON end, and
cold perspirations ran down his back.
He could have told his own doctor that
he was unloading invoices of hardware,
and he would have believed him, but
those blue eyes were ineXorable. For
tunately, when he tried to speak, his
tongue was too large for his mouth, and
he could not produce an Ineligible
sound.
Il thought so," said the doctor, qui-
etly, and she took a microscope from
her pocket and examined his beard
closely
Thank heaven, it isn't dyed"
thought Jones, who rather prided him
self on this feature. Then the doctor
returned her microscope to its case and
said, calmly:
Il thought so! Lobster salad on his
whiskers-that tells the story" Then
she turned her back and Jones heard
her murmur: "Squills, sixteen drops;
paragOric, one ounce; mix: dose, one
tablespoonful, until hc"-scratching of
the pencil, scratch, scratch.
Doubtless the doctor met Mrs. Jones,
who pounced on her with, "Tell me,
will he live? Tell me the truth, Nellie.
deari''
.He will live, Maria-if you give
him my prescription. It's in two tum-
blers, and there's pumpkin seed in
the spoon used last, SO you want to
give him the other one neXt-or is il
that? Well, it's one or the other; but,
if you make mistake, he dies. It's q
dreadful case of celluloid fever, but Eve
saved him."
Heaven bless you. dearestl Oh,
Nellie, darling, if you knew that man
-,
81 think | do, Marial Good-by! III
send my bill next week; there's nc
hurry. By-by!" and she wa' gone.
Jones heard them over the banister.
He didn't wait to be cured, but got well
at once. He has made arrangements
that, the next time he is taken i'll sud
denly, he is to be sent to the hospital
He has prejudice against advances il
| medical science.-Detroit Post.