The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, 1885-12-08
CURED.

headache and he hated the dusty
streets, in which the summer heat
burnt and the summer sun shone be-
fore the green leaves had draped the
trees, and potted geraniums, which
had come to be so blessedly popular in
New York, lent their summer fresh
ness.
"What shall I do, doctor?" he said.
"You say nothing ails me. but T can
tell what my feelings are better than
you can. I know 1 shall be down
with something soon. I rode in a car
with a %half-dozen dirty children the
other day-to the smallpox hospital.
1 haven't a doubt.-very red and nasty
looking, all Of them; and while I was
buying something in a store down
Broadway the other day a horrid old
woman begged Of me because her hus-
band was sick with typhoid fever.
No doubt I have caught both diseases,
and it's the complication that puzzles
you. Couldn't relish my coffee this
morning; left my milk toast untouched.
Hateful life, that of q bachelor at a
hotel. Oh, dear me I"
why don't you marry. then p. said
the doctor.
"They need SO much courting,'' said
Patterson. "You spend six months or
so, at least, dangling at a woman's
apron strings. You must 90 to the
theatre and opera if she is gay. and to
church if she is pious. At fifty a man
likes his slippers and dressing-gown and
chair of an evening. If it was just
stepping over to the clergyman's and
getting married. putting a ring on her
finger and saying or nodding yes two
or three times, why 1 wouldn't mind
it, you know"
:Ah. well, counting is the fun Of it
all, in my opinion" said the old doctor,
"but every n to his taste. And my
advice to you is to get out into the
country"
ITO another hotel and more merceu-
airy waitersr" said Mr.. Patterson.
mo" said the doctor; Ego to a nice,
private home. 1 know one-am otherly
widow lady. who cooks a dinner fit for
aEing. River before the house, woods
behind it, orchard to the left, kitchen
garden to the right; no fever and ague;
no mosquitoes. Heavenly 1 am 60
ing up there tomorrow, and I'll see If
she'll take you"
Every WELL" said Mr.. Patterson; 81
think ! will try it."
And you must drink plenty of milk
and eat plenty Of nice homemade
bread"
yes, I WILL" said Patterson, over
joyed at least at hearing something
that sounded like aprescription. .And
yon would advise milk Pr
Quart of it every day." said the
doctor.
"I'n take a note Of it," said Patter-
son., "and if I should be very I'LL she'll
nurse me-"
'splenadfidiy," said the doctor, and
vent his way.
Mr.. Patterson thought Che matter
over and thought better of it every
day. and whenthe little note Informing
him that the widow would be willing
to 'takeshim In and do for him"
reached him, he had his trunk and
portmanteau already packed, and was
ready to start that afternoon. AS for
the widow, the doctor had prepared
her for her boardef,s p~eculiarities thus:
Mice fellow; social; plenty Of mon
ey; thinks himself Ill. but isn't; ought
to be married; told him so, but he
hates the idea of counting; marry off
some day, no doubt. will you have
meT Yes Call in clergyman, but
then old bachelors are peculiar gem
orally"
The widow was a smart woman.
She had married at sixteen, and had
never failed TO have her washing over
when other people were hanging out
theirs. Her bread always rose. her
cake was always good and her butter
always sweet. AT forty-fve she had
married off all her daughters, was
weli-to-do, buxom and happy.
Her ION and his wife boarded with