been for young Wilson. When I went to bed, I put my mustard plaster

-which was a very gorgeous one, eighteen inches square--where I could

reach it when I was ready for it. But young Wilson got hungry in the

night, and here is food for the imagination.

After sojourning a week at Lake Bigler, I went to Steamboat Springs, and,

besides the steam-baths, I took a lot of the vilest medicines that were

ever concocted. They would have cured me, but I had to go back to

Virginia City, where, notwithstanding the variety of new remedies I

absorbed every day, I managed to aggravate my disease by carelessness and

undue exposure.

I finally concluded to visit San Francisco, and the first day I got

there a lady at the hotel told me to drink a quart of whisky every

twenty-four hours, and a friend up-town recommended precisely the same

course. Each advised me to take a quart; that made half a gallon. I did

it, and still live.

Now, with the kindest motives in the world, I offer for the consideration

of consumptive patients the variegated course of treatment I have lately

gone through. Let them try it; if it don't cure, it can't more than kill

them.

379

Sketches New and Old