"No, you are not. I told you before, no such good news. Your fever is all gone. You are scared--that"s what"s the matter," replied Dr. B.
"But look, just look at the color of my skin,--all mortifying," said S.
"O, no; that is merely dyed with _nitrate of silver_. It"s much better than poke-berries--much better," repeated Dr. B.
The recovered patient leaped from his bed, and, with an oath, made straight for the doctor; but the bystanders, though convulsed with laughter, caught the enraged victim, while, amid the cheers and laughter of the crowd, Dr. B. made his escape, saying to himself,--
"The nitrate of silver I put in the basin worked like a charm."
The story soon circulated, and Dr. S., being unable to remove the deep stain from his skin, and the curious rabble from his door, left for parts unknown. Dr. B., on revisiting his patients, who now rejoiced in his recovery, found that S. had not only dispensed lobelia and blood-root, but had bled and mercurialized several.
REMARKABLE DROPSY.
The writer was acquainted with a young physician who was unceremoniously discharged by the family of a beautiful young lady to whom he had been called to prescribe, in a country village, his offence being the discovery of the true source of the patient"s (?) indisposition, which fact he _dared_ to intimate to the mother. "An older and more experienced physician" succeeded him, who reversed the diagnosis, and p.r.o.nounced it "a clear case of _dropsy_," and the young M. D. went into disrepute. During the entire winter the old doctor made daily visits to his patient. Daily had the old ladies of the neighborhood adjusted their "specs," smoothed down their ap.r.o.ns, and, watching the doctor"s return, run out to the gate to inquire after the health of the lady, the belle of the town.
"O, she"s _convalescent_," was his usual reply, with due professional dignity; and thus the matter stood till a crisis came.
[Ill.u.s.tration: MARRYING A FAMILY.]
There was a ball in the village one night. About eleven o"clock a messenger appeared in the room, who hastily summoned a certain young gentleman, a scion of one of the "first families" in town. At the same time the minister was called, and the young man, standing by the bed, holding the invalid lady by the right hand, while on his left arm he supported a beautiful babe but an hour old, was married to the "convalescent" patient. The old doctor had run a beautiful "bill," but it was his last in that village.
A COUNTRY CONSULTATION.
The difficulty of obtaining competent counsel in the country can only be fully comprehended by the intelligent physician who has had experience therein.
From Dr. Richmond"s "_Scenes in Western Practice_," I have selected the following lamentable incidents, which I have abbreviated as much as is consistent with the facts, related by the doctor, who in this case was called to a wealthy and influential family, two of whom, wife and child, were prostrated by epidemic dysentery.
"As my credit was at stake, an old and very grave man was, at my suggestion, added to the consultation, to guard our reputation from the usual visitation of gossiping slander that always follows a fatal result in the country. He examined the child, and gave his opinion that the symptoms resembled those of ipecac!... But death was ahead of the doctors, and the little sufferer pa.s.sed quickly away to a better world.
"Another child had died in the vicinity, and the _neighbors_ decided on a change of doctors for the lady. By my consent the inventor of the "Chingvang Pill" was called, as I a.s.sured my friend his wife would now recover without either of us!
"He came, and readily detected the fact that he was in luck. His patient and fees were both safe, and I was floored.
""Of course, Dr. R., you will call when _convenient_," was a polite way of "letting me down easily," and I did call.
"Everything went on swimmingly for two days, when suddenly the scale turned; two other children were taken vomiting bile and blood. The doctor was in trouble, and on my friendly call his eye caught mine, and spoke plainly, "My credit, too, is gone,--the children will both die."
"The children grew rapidly worse; the council of the _neighborhood_ decided to call further aid. Another regular was called, and, being one of the heroes, he advised (it is solemn truth, dear reader) _one hundred grains of calomel at a dose_! His reason was, that he had given it to a child, and the patient recovered. His medical brother thought it a little too steep, and they compromised the matter by giving fifty grains! Copious quant.i.ties of fresh blood followed the operation, and the little victim of disease and quackery slipped from his suffering into the peaceful and quiet grave!
"One patient remained, and it was decided to call further counsel.
"A simple but shrewd old quack was curing cancers in the neighborhood, who sent word to the afflicted family that he "could cure the remaining child by cleansing the bowels with pills of b.u.t.ternut bark, aloes, camphor, and Cayenne pepper;" he would feed the little fellow on twist-root tea that would at once stop the discharges. Strange as it may seem, the wily old fool was called into the august presence of three M. D."s, and a score of other counsellors. He gave his pills; fresh blood followed the raking over the inflamed and sensitive membrane; the child screamed with torture, and was only relieved from its horrible agony by enemas of morphine. The celebrated "_twist-root_" (an Indian remedy, whose virtues could not be appreciated by the educated physician) followed, and death closed the scene.
"The old cancer-killer escaped by saying the morphine given in his absence _killed the child_."
[Ill.u.s.tration: "OPATHISTS IN CONSULTATION.]
The following brief consultation occurred in Fulton, N. Y., recently:--
Two physicians were called, of opposite schools. After shaking hands over the sick man"s bed, one said to the other,--
"I believe you are an --"opathist."
"Yes, I am; and you are a --"pathist; are you not?"
"Yes; and I can"t break over the rules of my society by aiding or counselling with you ---- for the sake of _one_ patient. Good day!"
"Sir, I mistook you for a Christian, not a barbarian! Good day!"
A JOLLY TRIO OF DOCTORS.
Before entering upon an exposition of the viler and more reprehensible sort of quacks,--the city charlatans and impostors,--I must relate a diverting scene, also from a country consultation that occurred in New York State some years since, from the perusal of which, if the reader cannot deduce a "moral," he may derive some amus.e.m.e.nt.
Mr. H. was an invalid; he was the worst kind of an invalid--a hypochondriac. The visiting physician had made a pretty good thing of it, the neighbors affirmed, for "H. was in easy circ.u.mstances." Finally he took to his bed, and declared he was about to shuffle off this mortal coil.
Two eminent physicians were summoned from a distance to consult with the attending physician. They arrived by rail, examined the patient, looked wise, and the learned trio withdrew to consult upon so "complicated and important a case." A tea-table had been set in an adjoining room, and to the abundance of eatables wherewith to refresh the distinguished professionals who were there to enter upon an "arbitrament of life or death," were added sundry bottles yet uncorked.
A little son and daughter of Mr. H. were amusing themselves, meantime, by a game at "hide-and-seek," and the former, having "played out" all the legitimate hiding-places, bethought himself of the top of a high secretary in the "banqueting-room." Action followed thought, and, climbing upon a chair-back, he gained the dusty elevation, where he quietly seated himself just as the three wise aesculapians entered the apartment. His only safety from discovery was to keep quiet.
Corks were drawn, supper was discussed, and conversation flowed merrily along. The weather, the news of the day, and the political crisis were discoursed, and the little fellow perched high on the secretary wondered when and what they would decide on his father"s case. Nearly an hour had pa.s.sed, the doctors were merry, and the boy was tired; but still the little urchin kept his position.
"Well, Dr. A., how is practice here, in general?" inquired one of the counsel.
"Dull; distressingly healthy. Why, if there don"t come a windfall in shape of an epidemic this fall, I shall _fall_ short for provender for my horse and bread for my family. How is it with you?"
"O, quite the reverse from you. I have alive twenty daily patients now."
"Very sick, any of them?" asked the local physician.
"No, no,--a little more wine, doctor,--some old women, whom any smart man can make think they are sick; some stout men, whom medicine will keep as patients when once under the weather; and silly girls, whom flattery will always bring again,--ha! ha!" and so saying he gulped down the wine.
"Why, there goes nine o"clock."
"What, so late!" exclaimed one counsellor, looking at his gold repeater.
"We must go or we"ll miss the return train," remarked the other; "the doctor here will manage the patient H., who"s only got the _hypo_ badly,"
he added.
"Is that a bust of Pallas he has over his secretary yonder?" asked the first, discovering the boy for the first time.
"I"m afraid Dr. ---- has got a little muddled over this excellent "Old Port," that he can"t see clearly. Why, that"s a bust of _Cupid_."
"Well," exclaimed the local physician, "I have been here a hundred times, and never before observed that statue; but," eying the statue fixedly, he continued, "it looks neither like Pallas nor Cupid, but rather favors H., and I guess it is a cast he has had recently made of himself."
Through all this comment and inspection the boy sat as mute as a post; but the moment the door closed on the retiring doctors, he clambered down and ran into the sick room.