Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1891-03-01

Mercy, but / can't eat.
Cant, Ell? Well, if you will let your
imagination run away with you in this
manner can't help it. Be more left
for me to eat, you know"
He looks in as he is ready TO leave the
house and says:
'If you are down town this afternoon
come in. Bye bye, BOBBY"
We have another programme-one
which is followed when Mr.. Bowser
comes home with bilious headache.
II happen to be looking when he gets
off the car a block away can tell what
is the matter. He comes dragging his
legs, head down and eyes half closed,
and meet him at the door and inquire;
"Mr. Bowser, have you been run over
on the street,"
"W-worsen thatr' he gasps, as he
sits down on stair step and holds his
head in his hands.
"Have you been shot at or stabbed by
ruffian?"
would that | hadr'
'Mr. Bowser, what awful, awful
thing has happened? Answer me at
oncel"
"rve-rve got one of those Internal
headaches"
! "O-o-o-hl Is that all? Why, I didn't
know but some awful thing had hap
pened. Well, dinner is ready, and I've
got some pork and beans, as you re-
quested."
"P-pork and b-beans! My soul,
woman, but how can you talk p-pork and
b-beans to dying man..
"Only a headache! Why, what should
a great big man like you care about
headache? Come to dinner"
But he staggers into the sitting room
and falls sideways on the lounge, and
utters groan which arches the cats
back up to an angle.
Mr.. Bowser, these headaches are all
imaginary" l observe as | take him by
the legs and swing him about so that he
rests on his back.
"O-o-o-h"
IF was a man of your size and age,
I'd show little spunk."
"O-o-o-h How can | stand it,"
"Well. there'll be the more left for
me TO eat. Better lie as quiet as you
can"
But | don't go out to dinner. He
wants a pillow for his head and he
wants his shoes taken off and his feet
covered up and then / have to remove
his collar and necktie and tie wet
towel around his forehead, and all his
pluck has departed. 1t isn't near as
bad headache as mine. The slightest
headache nervous woman ever has
will double discount any headache
assigned to a man to carry about, but
she must grin and bear it.
get the hartshorn for Mr.. Bowser.
change that for the camphor.
chafe his hands.
make mustard plasters for his feet.
warn the cook to be quiet in the
kitchen, and send our boy over to a
neighbours.
Then / turn the pillow over.
Then | hold the camphor under his
nose.
Then | take off the towel and tie it
tighter around his aching head. He
seems at last to fall into doze, but
suddenly opens his eyes and family calls:
MRS. B-Bowser"
Yes, dear"
'Do you think-think I'm going to
d-die?"
''Die? Why, you've only got head
&C he"
"But feel g-goneness-a sort of a
sinking away. Do You think it can be
collapse of the SYSTEM"
"Of course not. You've gotta fever
little one about as big as pin head.
All you've got to do is to go to sleep"
But you'd better call the DOCTOR"
NONSENSE
IF you don't get the doctor I'll be
dead in half an hour"
And so go to the telephone and ring
up the central, and hold an imaginary
conversation with the doctor, as fol-
lows:
"Mr. Bowser thinks he's dangerously
| i'll, and he wants you TO come up right
away. Can't you? That's too bad
Well, come in two hours at the least.
He's on the lounge now. Yes, it
started with headache. Yes, ri keep
him smelling of the camphor bottle.
Goodbye"
The entire afternoon is taken up with
nursing Mr.. Bowser and assuring him
that he has not been struck with
death. Then at tea time l must
make him toast and poach him
an egg, and at bed time the cook
and / have to help him up stairs. He
gets into bed with a series of groans,
turns over with the declaration that he
will never see another sun rise, and is
sound asleep in ten minutes. Next
morning, when he arises fresh and clear
headed, and inquire if his headache is
all gone, he looks at me in disdainful
way and replies:
"Mrs. Bowser, my headache, as you
call it, was violent and malignant at
tack of spinal meningitis, and nothing
but my great will-power, aided by my
pluck and courage, enabled me TO throw
it Off Had it been you, you would have
given up and died."