The Funny Side of Physic Part 64

The writer is well acquainted with W., who a.s.sured him this was true.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

I heard, while in the South, of a doctor, a little, short man, who rode a Canadian horse, a scraggy little specimen, and who, in yellow fever time, used to ride right straight into a drug store, and order his prescription, catch it up, wheel his pony round on his hind legs, stick in the spurs into the flanks of the animal, and go out in a clean gallop.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NO TIME TO LOSE.]

Though the writer never saw this remarkable feat, there is one more ludicrous, to which he was an eye-witness.

One fine day, while in Charleston, sitting musing in the window of the Victoria Hotel, I saw an African, with bare feet and legs, his whole attire consisting of a coa.r.s.e s.h.i.+rt and brief trousers, drive a mule attached to a dray, on which was a box, up towards a milliner's store, opposite. The negro jumped from the dray, and, with whip in hand, ran into the store to ascertain if that was the place to leave the box.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.]

The faithful donkey followed his master directly into the store, nor stopped till the wheels of the cart brought up against the door-jambs. The ladies, with whom the front store was crowded, screamed with terror, and fled towards the back room, where the pretty milliner girls were sewing.

They caught the panic and sight of the donkey's head and ears in the front shop, and screeched in chorus. A more lively and lovely stampede I never witnessed. It was "Beauty and the Beast," and the beast stood pulling his best to get the cart through; but since a six-foot cart never could go through a four foot doorway, he backed out with the negro's a.s.sistance, and Beauty was rescued from the perilous situation.

"Golly!" exclaimed the Buckee, when himself, mule and cart were back into the street. "I fought de ladies were scared ob dis chile, first sight; but I never knowed de ladies to be scared ob a hansum darky like me; and when I looked round an' see dat ar' mules coming into der mill'ner's store--O, yah, yah, yah! I shall die--O, yah, yah, yah!--de Lor'--to only fink ob it, a mule in a mill'ner's shop--he wants muslin--O, yah, yah! I shall die, sure." Then, after a few more outbursts, he stopped short--for the milliner was looking after the box--he rolled up his eyes very solemnly, and said to the donkey,--

"Yer ought to be 'shamed ob yerself to go into dat yer store--dar, take dat!" levelling a blow at the donkey's head with the whip. Then taking the box into the store, he returned, gave the donkey another solemn lecture on his impropriety, and mounted the dray and drove away.

THE CONSULTING POODLES.

A gentleman well known to the writer a.s.sured me that he once had occasion to repeatedly consult a physician in Philadelphia, a most excellent pract.i.tioner, who owned two pet poodle dogs. They were pure white, and occupied a portion of his office. When I first entered the doctor's presence, I was quite astonished to see, sitting on a corner of his desk, at his left, a beautiful poodle. I thought, at first sight, it was a stuffed specimen; but after inquiring the nature of my visit, the doctor said, "You can retire, sir."

"What!" said I, in surprise at this summary dismissal, when I was startled to see the manikin jump from the desk and run away to a crib beside a book-case.

[Ill.u.s.tration: DR. HUNTER IN CONSULTATION.]

"I was speaking to Dr. Scipio," the doctor quietly remarked. Then adding, "Dr. Hunter, you can come instead," when another like poodle came and leaped upon the desk, and sat looking very wisely at his master.

While examining my case, he occasionally cast a glance at "Dr. Hunter,"

sitting as quiet as a marble dog might, but seeming to understand the look which his master gave him, acknowledging it by a p.r.i.c.king up of the ears.

I received my prescription, and what proved to be most excellent advice, and retired. The next time I visited the eccentric doctor, both Drs.

Scipio and Hunter were in full consultation, sitting side by side on the desk.

"Now, sirs," said the doctor, after motioning me to a seat near him, "sirs Scipio and Hunter, keep very still, and give attention."

A yawning noise and expression was their simultaneous reply.

"What is the object of the two canine specimens being always present when I have consulted you?" I ventured to inquire, on my last visit to the doctor.

"Some physicians consult two-legged pups, in complicated cases. I prefer quadrupeds. Have we not been very successful--myself, Drs. Hunter and Scipio--in your case, sir?"

This he said with a pleasant, half-serious countenance.

"Indeed, you have, sir," I replied, to which the dogs gave a gap! (a smile?)

"You'll find every successful man with some seeming useless habit or appendage, which, nevertheless, is essential to his success, in absorbing or distracting the superfluities of his nature. A sing-song, every-day man, whom you can see right through, and understand all his moves, seldom amounts to anything. I ape n.o.body, however, but I feel almost lost, in my examinations, without my dogs."

Well, there may be much to this, after all. A good singer will seldom go forward to master a difficult piece of music without something in his hand. Eccentricities in some persons take the place of a vile, injurious habit, as the eccentric man is usually free from debasing habits.

I am particularly reminded of Suwaroff, the great Russian general, who was so remarkable for his energy, valor, and headlong fighting propensities.

This wonderful man was very small in stature, being only five feet and a half inch in height, miserably thin in flesh, with an aquiline nose, a wide mouth, wrinkled brow, and bald head--an eagle look and character.

"His contempt of dress could only be equalled by his disregard of every form of politeness, and some idea may be formed of both from the fact that he was washed mornings by several buckets of water thrown over him, and that he drilled his men in his s.h.i.+rt sleeves, with his stockings hanging down about his heels, and proudly dispensing with the use of a pocket handkerchief."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE RUSSIAN GENERAL'S DRILL.]

His favorite signal of attack was a shrill "_c.o.c.k-a-doodle-doo!_"

"To-morrow"--this was his harangue to his men before a great battle--"to-morrow morning I mean to be up one hour before daybreak. I shall wash and dress myself, then say my prayers, give one good _c.o.c.k-crow_, and capture Ismail!" Which he did to the letter. After Catharine's death, Paul, her son and successor, could not brook the eccentric habits of "Old Forward and Strike," whose personal appearance was ill suited to court, and when compelled to "change or retire,"

Suwaroff chose the latter. Again in 1799 he was given a command, but would not change his principles, and was dismissed; and died in 1800, neglected by the imperial Paul, who was a.s.sa.s.sinated the same year.

SILENT ELOQUENCE.

There is a physician doing an office practice in Boston, who, when you enter his office, by one gesture and movement of his head, with the accompanying expression of his countenance, says to you, as plainly as words, "Take a seat; how do you do? State your case." He is a man of few words, professionally. Through with his business, he becomes one of the most sociable men with whom one need wish to meet.

John Abernethy was remarkable for his eccentricity, and brevity in his dealings with patients. Sometimes he met his match. The following has been told about him often enough to be true. On one occasion a lady, who doubtless had heard of his _brusque_ characteristic, entered his consulting-room, at Bedford Row, and silently presented a sore finger. As silently the doctor examined and dressed the wound. In the same manner the lady deposited the accustomed fee upon the table, and withdrew.

Again she presented the finger for inspection.

"Better?" grunted the great surgeon.

"Better," quietly answered the lady, deposited the fee, and left, without saying another word. Several visits were thus made, when, on presenting it for the last time, Abernethy said,--

"Well?"

"Well," was the lady's only answer, and deposited her last fee.

"Well, madam, upon my soul, you are the most sensible lady with whom I ever met," he exclaimed, and very politely bowed her out.

CONSISTENT TO THE END.

The most eccentric physician who ever lived, and the only one I have read of who carried his odd notions beyond this life, was Messenger Monsey, of whom I have before written in this book. He died at the age of ninety-five. He wrote his own will,--having eighty thousand dollars to dispose of,--and his epitaph. The will was remarkable, and is still preserved. "To a beautiful young lady, named ----," he gave an old battered snuff-box, not containing a s.h.i.+lling, lavis.h.i.+ng upon her, at the same time, the most extravagant encomiums on her wit, taste, and elegance; and to another, whom he says he intends to enrich with a handsome legacy, he leaves the gratifying a.s.surance that he changed his mind on finding her "a pert, conceited minx." After railing at bishops, deans, and clergymen, he left an annuity to two of the latter, who did not preach.

"My body shall not be insulted with any funeral ceremonies, but after being dissected in the theatre of Guy's Hospital, by the surgeons, for the benefit of themselves and students, the remainder of my carca.s.s may be put into a hole, or crammed into a box with holes, and thrown into the Thames."

The main part of his property went to his only daughter.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WHAT THE ELEPHANT IS LIKE.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: A DOCTOR'S SOLACE.]

This is a true copy of his epitaph:--