Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1890-10-05
TIE MIRACULOUS CURE.
| From the French of Jean Rameau: translated
for the SUNDAY UNION by Mrs. n. Z. White.l /

From the French of Jean Rameau: translated
for the SUNDAY UNION by Mrs. n. Z. White.I /
Poor old Guichemerre was far from gay
on the day of which l write, as he stood
alone before his fire of vine-shoots, warm
ing his trembling palms and nervously
rubbing them together, while almost every
moment he glanced toward the little ave-
nue. that led to his door.
Never a soul!' muttered he, sorrow
fully shaking his hoary head, and running
his fingers through the scanty beard which
encircled his ruddy cheeks. Then he be-
gan once more to warm his hands before
the blazing knots in the fireplace.
Guichemerre was a health officer, and
for more than fifty years had been sta
toned at Saint-Leon. He was worthy
man-not very learned, to be sure-who
had cured his patients as well as the next
one, and whose supreme ambition was to
become the Mayor of his commune.
This beautiful dream was not so impos-
sible as one might suppose for, although
only health officer, Guichemerre counted
some glorious events IN his life. The good
people of Saint-Leon were all somewhat
indebted to him. For many years he had
been the only doctor in the place, and the
number of colds, infammations and stom-
ach troubles that he had cured, or aggra-
waited, would be difficult to reckon. He
was therefore held in great generation by
his neighbors-
But of late misfortune seemed to relent-
lessly pursue him. One disagreeable oc-
currence after another had followed in
appalling succession. In the first place, it
had always been the custom of the health
officer to sell the necessary drugs to his
patients, and he was duly authorized to do
so, inasmuch as the nearest pharmacy was
nearly ten miles distant; but now Sec
ond-rate druggist had just taken up his
quarters at Saint-Leon, and poor Guiche-
merre could no longer sell his marsh-mal-
low and syrup of Tolu. Alas he was
perquisites of his ethce.
But that misfortune was as nothing CON-
pared to what followed. The intruder did
not limit himself to 'pecuniary injury, but
even attacked the professional capacity OF
his ancient rival.
'What is this ?" he would ask super
ciliousiy, when people brought him
Guichemerre's prescriptions, his counte-
nance expressing scientific contempt for
the simple remedies demanded.
And, it must be admitted, the humble
officer was totally ignorant of the intricate
formulas Of the modern mdteriG medicq He
had few primitive recipes which he had
used from his youth, and although they
might perhaps have been efficacious in
times gone by, they were now quite out OF
date, and the new conner declared them OF
no virtue whatever.
In this way Guichemerre lost more than
one-third of his practice.
But the most terrible catastrophe hap
pened two years after the installation OF
the malevolent druggist, when young
doctor, named Albert Preville, came to take
up his abode at Saint-Leon. That was the
finishing blow.
The doctor was stranger, and with his
Partisan accent and polished manners
quite dazzled the feminine portion of the
village. They would have been i'll most
willingly in order to be cured by such a
sweetly perfumed dandy.
Guichemerre saw at once that he was a
ruined man.
OF course DR.. Preville soon won the
good graces Of the pharmaceutist. Why
should he not? He knew how to formu-
late prescription He ordered rare and
costly medicines. He could let fall from
his learned lips pompous and high-sound-
ing words to diagnosticate the most harm
less and ordinary complaints Guichemerre
called cold in the head cold in the
head, nothing more. But such plebeian
notions did not command the respect OF
the country people. They felt their dig
nifty offended az being afflicted with such
commonplace diseases. .
DR.. Preville, on the contrary, invariably
found their maladies to be of very seri-
Gus nature. with strange and complicated
appellations, and for their treatment or
dered new and expensive medicines, for
which the credulous peasants cheerfully
paid exorbitant prices.
Guichemerre, who modestly prescribed
centaury, chamomile, borage, strand
mum and other equally well-known plants,
which he openly gathered in the fields OF
his patients themselves, could not compete
with the modern methods of the young
Partisan. So, little by little, even his
most faithful adherents deserted him; and,
as he had not sold his herbs with sufficient
profit when he had the trade to himself,
he beheld the dark clouds Of poverty
gathering closer and closer around him, as
his hair grew whittier and his steps m re
feeble.
That winter day, in particular, his cup
of SORROW was full to the brim. Among