In a country town in Maine the writer knew an elderly physician, who had married a wife much younger than himself, whose aristocratic notions hardly coincided with those of this democratic people, though she had now lived here several years. Finally a young physician came into the place and commenced practice. Among the patients that he obtained from the old doctor"s former practice was one named Higgins.

Mrs. Higgins, whose daughter had just recovered from a fever, gave a party, to which the families of both doctors, with the two ministers, and others, were invited.

"Will you go to Mrs. Higgins"s party?" asked a neighbor of the old doctor"s wife.

"Yes, I intend to go, by all means, for I want to see old Mother Higgins and her new doctor spread themselves."

This reminds me of the following story, which is too good to be lost:--

""Once upon a time," an old lady sent her grandson to set a turkey,--not the gobbler, as did the parson in Mrs. Stowe"s "Minister"s Wooing." On his return, the following dialogue occurred:--

""Sammy, my dear, have you set her?"

""Yes, grandma," replied Hopeful.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "AN EXTENSIVE SET."]

""Fixed the nest up all nice, Sammy?"

""O, mighty fine, grandma."

""Did you count the eggs, Sammy, and get an odd number?"

""Yes, grandma."

""How many eggs did you set her on, Sammy, dear?"

""One hundred and twenty-one, grandma."

""O, goodness gracious! Why did you put so many eggs under her, Sammy?"

""Why, grandma, I wanted to see the old thing spread herself.""

KEROSENE.

Some editors are continually making themselves ridiculous, as well as endangering the life of some person as ignorant in the matter as themselves, by publishing at random "remedies" for certain complaints, of both of which--remedy and disease--they knew nothing. The following I cut from a paper:--

"One thing I will mention which may be useful to some one. Kerosene oil has been found effective as a vermifuge. It is given by the mouth for round stomach worms, and as an enema for pin worms. It is free from the irritation which follows the use of spirits turpentine, and is equally as effective." (No directions as to quant.i.ty at a dose.)

An Irishwoman in Hartford, Conn., spelling out the above in a newspaper, concluded to give her child, a boy of ten, a dose, under the belief that "wurrums ailed the child," and as it was harmless (?), she would give him the benefit of its harmlessness, and her ignorance, and administered accordingly a _tea-cup full_!

Frightful symptoms supervened,--colic, vomiting, etc.,--when a doctor was sent for, who being absent, his student--who hardly understood the danger of the case, and was a bit of a wag, by the way--sent the following prescription:--

"[R]. Run a wick down the child"s throat; any lamp or candle wick will do, provided it is long enough; set fire to the end left outside, _and use him for a lamp till the doctor arrives_." SELAH.

This may seem too ridiculous to believe, but it is the truth, nevertheless.

SALERATUS VS. SUGAR.

Early one summer morning, while practising in Plymouth, Conn., the writer was startled by a loud knock at the front door, which I hastened to answer. There stood an Irishman, well known as living in a little hut, down on the "Meadows," whose name was Fitzgibbon. He was all out of breath, and the great drops of sweat were rolling all down his rough face, which he was endeavoring to mop up with a huge bandanna handkerchief. As soon as he could possibly articulate, he exclaimed,--

"O, docther, docther! take yourself--down to that sha-anty as quick as ye conva-niantly can, plaze."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "O, DOCTHER, DEAR, I"VE PIZENED ME BOY."]

"Why, what"s the matter at the shanty, Fitzgibbon?"

"O, docther, dear, I"ve pizened my boy; what will I do intirely?"

"How did it happen? Don"t be alarmed, Fitzgibbon." For his manner was frightful.

"Will, I"ll till yeze. He"s been sick wid the masles. Will, he"s ate nothin" for a hole wake, and in the night he wanted some bread an" sugar, do ye see? an" I had no candle, an" I wint in the dark, an" spread him some bread, an" he ate it intirely, an" it was saleratus I put on it, instead of sugar; an" it"s now atin" him intirely! O, dear, dear, that I should iver give him saleratus instead o" sugar!"

"Well, Fitzgibbon, if the boy is so big a fool that he don"t know the difference between saleratus and sugar, let him die."

"O, docther, don"t say so!" exclaimed the poor fellow, in agony.

Then I suddenly recollected that the sense of taste was always vitiated in measles, and thus excused the matter, adding,--

"Now, run home, "Gibbon, and give the little fellow a tea-spoonful of vinegar in a little sugar and water,--not saleratus and water, mind you."

"No, by the great St. Patrick, I"ll niver mistake the likes again," he earnestly interrupted, when I went on, saying,--

"Then in half an hour give him another tea-spoonful, and that will relieve the "gnawing at his stomach," and by an hour I"ll drive round there and see him, on my way to Watertown."

"I"ll trust to yeze to git it out of him. G.o.d bless yeze;" and away he darted, saying, "O, howly mother! that I should give him saleratus for sugar!"

HIS LAST JOKE.

A celebrated English physician, who was also a distinguished humorist, when about to die, requested that none of his friends be invited to his funeral.

A friend inquired the reason of this remarkable request.

"Because," sighed the dying but polite humorist, "it is a courtesy which can never be returned."

Charles Matthews, the celebrated comedian, who died in 1837, put the above entirely in the shade by _his_ last joke.

The attending physician had left Mr. Matthews some medicine in a vial, which a friend was to administer during the night. By mistake, he gave the patient some ink from a vial which stood near. On discovering the error, his friend exclaimed, "O, gracious Heavens, Matthews, I have given you ink, instead of medicine."

"Never--never mind, my dear boy," said the dying man faintly; "_I will swallow a piece of blotting paper_."

AN ASTONISHED NEGRO.

Dr. Robertson, of Charleston, S. C., who attended the writer in 1852, with the yellow fever, was as competent, benevolent, and faithful a physician as I ever had the pleasure of meeting. His services were in great demand during the raging of the "yellow Jack," and on one occasion he was absent from his house and office two whole days and a night. His family became alarmed, and a faithful old negro was sent in search of his master. It was no uncommon occurrence to see a black man traversing the streets, ringing a bell, and crying a "lost child;" but to see a slave searching for his lost master, was almost a phenomenon.

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