Sketches New and Old


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think it is too severe. If I had another cold in the head, and there  
were no course left me but to take either an earthquake or a quart of  
warm saltwater, I would take my chances on the earthquake.  
After the storm which had been raging in my stomach had subsided, and no  
more good Samaritans happening along, I went on borrowing handkerchiefs  
again and blowing them to atoms, as had been my custom in the early  
stages of my cold, until I came across a lady who had just arrived from  
over the plains, and who said she had lived in a part of the country  
where doctors were scarce, and had from necessity acquired considerable  
skill in the treatment of simple "family complaints." I knew she must  
have had much experience, for she appeared to be a hundred and fifty  
years old.  
She mixed a decoction composed of molasses, aquafortis, turpentine, and  
various other drugs, and instructed me to take a wine-glass full of it  
every fifteen minutes. I never took but one dose; that was enough; it  
robbed me of all moral principle, and awoke every unworthy impulse of my  
nature. Under its malign influence my brain conceived miracles of  
meanness, but my hands were too feeble to execute them; at that time, had  
it not been that my strength had surrendered to a succession of assaults  
from infallible remedies for my cold, I am satisfied that I would have  
tried to rob the graveyard. Like most other people, I often feel mean,  
and act accordingly; but until I took that medicine I had never reveled  
in such supernatural depravity, and felt proud of it. At the end of two  
days I was ready to go to doctoring again. I took a few more unfailing  
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