Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1894-06-08
CHANGING HIS MIND.
Dir. Quagslc, Comes Back From the Edgeof
the Grave.

/
with him. but he graphically said that he
was at death ) door and could hear the han
die being turned the other side to give him
admittance Mr.. Qdaggies wouldn't see a
doctor. He had peculiar aversion to doc
| tors, especially to their bills. Some people
were unkind enough to say that Mr. Quag-
| giles put on" his Illness
One day Mrs. Quagges found little
pamphlet which had been thrust under the
| front door that had been issued by a firm
! of patent medicine vendors, wherein the
symptoms of various ailments were mi
nutely described. After perusing it she took
it to her husband and said:
Thomas, you can find out what is the
matter with you by reading this little
book"
Reading that!' exclaimed Mr. Quag
giles contemptuously "Why, my symp-
toms wouldn't 90 in few pages like that.
1t would take three volumes to describe
'em However" he added, you can read
some symptoms to me, Jemima. | don't
feel equal to doing it myself, and he leaned
back in his armchair, signing heavily. MY
gracious, do feel bad!'' he moaned.
SO Mrs. Quaggles began:
PAIN in back and under shoulder blades:
frequent headaches, principally over eyes. F"
That's me!' groaued Mr.. Quaggles.
Yes, that's you, Thomas, assented Mrs
Quaggles and went on, depressed and
languid feeling; burning of the palms of
the hands and soles of the feet
Me again You could cook a steak on
mine" declared Mr.. Quaggles.
diversion to physical exercise. That's
you, Thomas" declared his wife. YOU'RE
frightfully laz..'
N1 hot NOT
ed the invalid. Pm not a bit lazy, only
my poor, feeble body won't let me take any
exercise. Coon, Jemima. Your voice puts
me in mind of the Dead March In Saul"
"'Unpleasant dreams, continued Mrs.
Quaggles.
Rather! Why, | have such awful dreams
that | believe they lift some of the hair off
my head every night. That's why I'm get
ting so bald" he said mournfully. "Oh,
dear! Oh! dear!' And Mr. Quaggles sud
denly started out of his chair and grasped
the top of his head.
"Whatever's the matter, Thomas?" asked
his wife alarmedly.
why, had pain shoot right up from
my big toe to the top of my head"
Good gracious, what long paiuu' eX-
claimed Mrs. Quaggles. You're over six
feet, you know, Thomas"
YES, and it amt finished yet. 1t keeps
cOiling round and round my head, f." groan-
ed Mr. Quaggles. Doesn't it give that
symptom, Jemima?'
mo. l can't find anything about the sea
serpent" giggled Mrs. Quaggles. That's
what you must have inside you
"Jemma," said her husband reproach-
fully, ais this time for heartless levity,
when here am with one foot in the grave
and the other one slipping down the side of
it? What do all these terrible symptoms
point to? Is my heart going to drop to
pieces, are my lungs going to burst, or
WHAT"
Liver, Thomasl It's your liver that's
wrong, SO far as | can make out"
"Ah, thought so! That's why | can't
eat. There's no room for food in me. Phe
space is all occupied by my liver. 1t has,
so to say, taken the whole house instead of
living in one apartment, AS it ought to do.
tell you, Jemima, I've got enough liver to
90 with a side of bacon, and then there
would be some left to eat cold alone. I'm
doomed, dear. I'll make my will at once,
though it is but little have to leave. You
had better go round to the undertaken and
get an estimate for a funeral-a plain one,
you know-and''
There was a tap at the door, and the serv-
ant entered with letter for her master.
Mr. Quaggles took it languidly, but had
only read few words when he jumped up
and began to execute war dance.
whats the matter, Thomas? Is it that
long pain again?" anXiously inquired Mrs.
Quaggles.
mo, moi What do you think? Poor old
Uncle James dead and has left me 95, 000p
you don't mean to say so? How good
of him to de-I mean to leave you $4,000!
But, Thomas what pity it has arrived too
latel'
arrived too latel What do you mean,
Jemimay"
why, amt you just going to die, Thorn
as?"
II don't know that am. l can change
my mind if | like, can't T." asked Mr., Quag-
giles somewhat Indignantly.
But how can you possible live with that
awful liver of yours" persisted his wife.
Liver be hanged!' exclaimed Mr.. Quag-
giles IF IS, 900 won't cure it, it isn't worthy
to be called a liver. | tell you, Jemima,
rm-e5, 0O0-going to-fancy, E50OO-get
well right away! Whoopl Five thousand
pounds
And strange to say-or perhaps not strange
to say-Mr. Quaggles recovered with mar
velous rapidity. Heis now one of the health
lest and happiest men in the United King
dom Even that long pain has gonel-
! Tit-Bits.
Gallant.