Year: 1867

one of the Professors of a medics


colIege-in order to ascertain hi


true condition. He called upo


him, stated his case, and under


went the customary examination


eYoungman," said the Professor
/ Hyour lungs are badly affected, ant


lam only dealing frankly witt


you when / say that, in, my opin


ion, you arenot long for this world !!
Miller's heart sank within hin


as he heard his doom. He hat


the most implicit confidence in tn,


Professor; and as he thought of


his wife and child, he felt very


much as If for the future the world


would be a blank to him.


18"Did you ever drink whisky?'


inquired the Doctor, as he paced


the room.


HNever, except upon one or per


haps two occasions said Miller,


you can keep yourself alive


two years-probably three-by


the moderate use of whisky. 1t
is adangerous prescription, but Civ
ing it to you l have reason to be-
lieve that you will not let it obtain
the mastery over you. Get the best
whisky you can buy, and drink O
pint of it a day." e.s.


Poor Miller, ready to grasp at
the merest shadow of relief, went
to a liquor store and purchased a
demijohn of Bourbon whisky, and
commenced taking doses of it at
intervals throughout the day.


A year rolled away, and Miller
was much improved. His cough
was easier and the stimulant ap-
peared to impart a kind Of arti-
fetal strength to his body, but /
regret to say, his appetite, which
never before craved alcoholic
drinks, had assumed an abnormal
condition, to appease which it
now required not less than a quart
per diem. He felt that he was not
doing much towards retarding his
march down to the grave, but heavy
doses of alcoholic stimulus in
vested the past and future with a
feeling of obliyiousness that was
quite relief to his melancholy
broodings over his misery when he
was properly himself a


= When in this state Miller loved
and he frequently walk
ed as far away from home as his
would permit him-gen-
orally in the neighborhood of the
brick yards in the southwestern
part Of the city. I'd tf .


One day, having extended his
walk beyond his usual limits, and
being overtaken by thunder
storm, when he reached the brick
yards, he took shelter under the
shed of one of them. Having drank
an / unusual quantity of whisky
during the day, he fell asleep up
on the wheelbarrow on which he
was resting, while the storm was
raging, nor did he awake until
the dawn of the next day-a mild,
beautiful June morning. At first
he was mysti6ed, but he recalled
the storm and the brick-yards, and,
feeling somewhat drowsy, he
composed himself for another nap.
1t is uncertain how long he slept,
probably not over half an hour
but during that time he had a
remarkable vision. He dreamed
out the principles of a machine
for the manufacturing Of brick-a
machine that would in a great
measure supersede all hand labor.
Every wheel, cog, and casting
passed through his brain, and in
his dream he even saw the ma
chine in practical operation.
When he awoke it was quite light,
and he hastened towards his home.
His mind was entirely taken up,
with the machine, his dream hav-,
ing evidently made an impression
upon him as indelible as any idea
ever conceived in his most wake.
fal hours. Long before he, reach
ed home he had resolved to carry
cut, the, dream. After breakfast
be made the. necessary preparation
to work out a model. The objects
that interposed were legion, but 4
he ovecame them all. 7 Tools
HAT he could not borrow he bought,
and it was now that be went to
work most patiently and persever-
lngly, paying very little attention