But how does that concern us? There is no plague here, I reckon."

Sh! I've let it out! Well, never mind--just keep it to yourself.

Perhaps I oughtn't said anything, but its bound to come out sooner or

later, so what is the odds? Old McDowells wouldn't like me to--to

--bother it all, I'll jest tell the whole thing and let it go. You see,

I've been down to St. Louis, and I happened to run across old Dr.

McDowells--thinks the world of me, does the doctor. He's a man that

keeps himself to himself, and well he may, for he knows that he's got a

reputation that covers the whole earth--he won't condescend to open

himself out to many people, but lord bless you, he and I are just like

brothers; he won't let me go to a hotel when I'm in the city--says I'm

the only man that's company to him, and I don't know but there's some

truth in it, too, because although I never like to glorify myself and

make a great to-do over what I am or what I can do or what I know,

I don't mind saying here among friends that I am better read up in most

sciences, maybe, than the general run of professional men in these days.

Well, the other day he let me into a little secret, strictly on the

quiet, about this matter of the plague.

"You see it's booming right along in our direction--follows the Gulf

Stream, you know, just as all those epidemics do, and within three months

it will be just waltzing through this land like a whirlwind! And whoever

it touches can make his will and contract for the funeral. Well you

can't cure it, you know, but you can prevent it. How? Turnips! that's

117

The Gilded Age