I never had such an uneasy
tenant. Alongside of it a woman with the moving fever would be
comparatively a fixed and stationary object.
Having always, therefore, enjoyed perfectly riotous and absolutely
unbridled health, never feeling weak and distressed unless dinner
happened to be ten or fifteen minutes late, I was green regarding
physicians and the ways of physicians. But I knew Doctor X slightly,
having met him last summer in one of his hours of ease in the grand
stand at a ball game, when he was expressing a desire to cut the
umpire's throat from ear to ear, free of charge; and I remembered
his name, and remembered, too, that he had impressed me at the
time as being a person of character and decision and scholarly
attainments.
He wore whiskers. Somehow in my mind whiskers are ever associated
with medical skill. I presume this is a heritage of my youth,
though I believe others labor under the same impression.
As I look back it seems to me that in childhood's days all the
doctors in our town wore whiskers.
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