Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1886-12-09
A CHINESE DOCTOR.
A Prescription From a Picturesque
Celestial Physician.

Here | was, face to face with the
Chinese doctor, whose advertisement
was printed III Eugllsh, but who sadly
complicated things by talking the
Chinese. | told him that | hadn't
learned Chinee yet. His mouth.widen-
ed INTO grin, and he motiOned me to a
wooden .bottOmed chair.
"Chin Foo comee light Ywale," he
said.
Chin Foo was the interpreter. lie
came back in ten minutes as happy and
dapper looking Chinaman as eyer
trotted through Mott street, New York
City. Until he came | amused myself
critically ogling this physician from the
FlOwery Kingdom. He was decidedly
picturesque. His tall figure was en-
veloped in long, loose robe of yellow
figured Chinese silk like the magician's
garb in juvenile fairy tales. All but
the extreme top of his head was shaven
as smooth as a billiard ball. From the
crown depended queue or raven hair,
almost as long as the man was tall and
braided like German maiden's locks.
From his upper lip dropped a black
mustache. The ends were of eXtraordi-
nary length. But surprising as the
moustache looked it wasn't half as
strange as his left hand. He had let
tie nails grow until they were fully an
inch in length. They were polished
until they glistened. The nails of his
other hand were pared close TO the fin
ger tips. He leisurely pulled a cigarette
of very strong black tobacco as he sat
opposite me against the background of
brilliant curtains.
"See here, Foo," | said, 'I've got
malaria. Eye had it a long tlme-a
good deal longer than | want it. I'm
told your doctor makes speciality of
knocking out malaria in a single
round"
"That's right" rejoined Foo, with a
grin, "let the doctor feel youripulse."
Foo jabbered to his fantastic princi-
pal in Chinese, and held out my hand
to him. The long-nailed Celestial took
one of my wrists in either hand pressed
his fingers against the pulse, and stud
led the floor with bowed head in silence
so long that | looked quizingly up at
Chin Foo and requested an explana-
ton.
whats the matter with your doc
tor, Foo 2" l said. "Dose the case
stagger him z And what in thunder
does he want to feel both my pulses
for 2"
ooh, that's the regular professional
method in China" the dapper little in
terpreter returned, smiling at my mys-
tfication. Hes orthodox as ortho-
doxy in China can make him. It's a
popularity of physicians in the Flow
cry Kingdom 10 study the beat of both
pulses"
The pig-tailed Celestial medicine man
looked up from the fioOrand let 60 both
my wrists as lively as Chin Foo got to
the end of his remarks. Then he reach
ed for pencil aid one of the great
sheets of yellow paper that were piled
high on red table in front of him.
"ae is going to build you prescrip-
tion now" Chin Foo said admiringly.
Watch him; it'll interest you"
The prescription was corker in size.
The medicine man be gan at the upper
right hand corner of the big yellow
sheet with jerky sort of scribble that
tmlt up curiously Chinese characters
in columns of three so fast that could
hardly follow him with my eye. He
built other columns under the first one
until, after he had been at work some
thing less than fiye minutes the Chinese
characters were piled up on top of each
other in huge rows like the Navarro
flats.
That's ALL" cried Foo, as with a
sigh of relief, l saw the medicine man
from Canton drop his pencil and shove
over the yellow prescription. You
can get this put up down in Mott street
and nowhere else. The doctors fee is
50, please"
"When you get this medicine you
must fix it up into tea, and take half a
cupful at dose three times day. Half
a teacup is rather small dose, too, for
you must remember that the Chinese
take their medicine by the wholesale
when they take any at all. Their med
icines are all allopathic to heroic ex-
tent so far as the consumption of reme-
edies is concerned"
An hour later 1 found the Chinese
pharmacy of Hong Wah, Hoe King 81
Co., the solitary Chinese drug store of
Gotham. 1t was on the ground floor of
a three-story building on the south side
of Mott street, that looked very much
like little German grocery decked
with nc placards. The clerk laid his
mammoth pipe carefully aside, with the
punk still sticking in the hole in the
side, glanced at the prescription and
then started to make it up. He drew
a handful of what resembled cinnomon
sticks from one drawer, and laid them
in big metal scoop. This scoop was
1c Il