章节正文
on the counter; it was called ``Jahr's Manual.''
Opening at page 310, vol. i, I lit upon
``Lachesis,'' which proved to my amazement
to be snake-venom. This Mr. Jahr stated to
be indicated for use in upward of a hundred
symptoms. At once it occurred to me that
``Lach.'' was the medicine for my money, and
that it was quite needless to waste cash on
the box. I therefore bought a small jar of
``Lach.'' and a lot of little pills, and started
for home.
My old woman proved a fast friend; and
as she sent me numerous patients, I by and
by altered my sign to ``Homeopathic Physician
and Surgeon,'' whatever that may mean,
and was regarded by my medical brothers as
a lost sheep, and by the little-pill doctors as
one who had seen the error of his ways.
In point of fact, my new practice had
decided advantages. All pills looked and tasted
alike, and the same might be said of the
powders, so that I was never troubled by those
absurd investigations into the nature of
remedies which some patients are prone to
make. Of course I desired to get business,
and it was thereforeobviouslyunwise to give
little pills of ``Lac.,'' or ``Puls.,'' or ``Sep.,''
when a man needed a dose of oil, or a white-
faced girl iron, or the like. I soon made the
useful discovery that it was only necessary
to prescribe cod-liver oil, for instance, as a
diet, in order to make use of it where
required. When a man got impatient over an
ancient ague, I usually found, too, that I
could persuade him to let me try a good dose
of quinine; while, on the other hand, there
was a distinct pecuniary advantage in those
cases of the shakes which could be made to
believe that it ``was best not to interfere
with nature.'' I ought to add that this kind
of faith is uncommon among folks who carry
hods or build walls.
For women who are hysterical, and go
heart and soul into the business of being
sick, I have found the little pills a most
charming resort, because you cannot carry
the refinement of symptoms beyond what my
friend Jahr has done in the way of fitting
medicines to them, so that if I had taken
seriously to practising this double form of
therapeutics, it had, as I saw, certain
conveniences.
Another year went by, and I was beginning
to prosper in my new mode of life. My
medicines (being chiefly milk-sugar, with
variations as to the labels) cost next to nothing;
and as I charged pretty well for both these
and my advice, I was now able to start a gig.
I solemnly believe that I should have
continued to succeed in the practice of my
profession if it had not happened that fate was
once more unkind to me, by throwing in my
path one of my old acquaintances. I had a
consultation one day with the famous homeopath
Dr. Zwanzig. As we walked away we
were busily discussing the case of a poor
consumptive fellow who previously had lost
a leg. In consequence of this defect, Dr.
Zwanzig considered that the ten-thousandth
of a grain of aurum would be an overdose,
and that it must be fractioned so as to allow
for the departed leg, otherwise the rest of the
man would be getting a leg-dose too much.
I was particularly struck with this view of
the case, but I was still more, and less
pleasingly, impressed at the sight of my former
patient Stagers, who nodded to me familiarly
from the opposite pavement.
I was not at all surprised when, that
evening quite late, I found this worthywaiting in
my office. I looked around uneasily, which
was clearly understood by my friend, who
retorted: ``Ain't took nothin' of yours, doc.
You don't seem right awful glad to see me.
You needn't be afraid--I've only fetched
you a job, and a right good one, too.''
I replied that I had my regular business,
that I preferred he should get some one else,
and pretty generally made Mr. Stagers aware
that I had had enough of him. I did not ask
him to sit down, and, just as I supposed him
about to leave, he seated himself with a grin,
remarking, ``No use, doc; got to go into it
this one time.''
At this I, naturally enough, grew angry
and used several rather violent phrases.
``No use, doc,'' said Stagers.
Then I softened down, and laughed a little,
and treated the thing as a joke, whatever it
was, for I dreaded to hear.
But Stagers was fate. Stagers was
inevitable. ``Won't do, doc--not even money
wouldn't get you off.''
``No?'' said I, interrogatively, and as coolly
as I could, contriving at the same time to
move toward the window. It was summer,
the sashes were up, the shutters half drawn
in, and a policeman whom I knew was lounging
opposite, as I had noticed when I entered.
I would give Stagers a scare, charge him
with theft--anything but get mixed up with
his kind again. It was the folly of a moment
and I should have paid dear for it.
He must have understood me, the scoundrel,
for in an instant I felt a cold ring of
steel against my ear, and a tiger clutch on
my cravat. ``Sit down,'' he said. ``What a
fool you are! Guess you forgot that there
coroner's business and the rest.'' Needless to
say that I obeyed. ``Best not try that again,''
continued my guest. ``Wait a moment'';
and rising, he closed the window.
There was no resource left but to listen;
and what followed I shall condense rather
than relate it in the language employed by
Mr. Stagers.
It appeared that my other acquaintance
Mr. File had been guilty of a cold-blooded
and long-premeditated murder, for which he
had been tried and convicted. He now lay
in jail awaiting his execution, which was to
take place at Carsonville, Ohio. It seemed
that with Stagers and others he had formed
a band of expertcounterfeiters in the West.
Their business lay in the manufacture of
South American currencies. File had thus
acquired a fortune so considerable that I was
amazed at his having allowed his passion to
seduce him into profitable" target="_blank" title="a.没有利润的；无益的">unprofitable crime. In his
agony he unfortunately thought of me, and
had bribed Stagers largely in order that he
might be induced to find me. When the
narration had reached this stage, and I had
been made fully to understand that I was now
and hereafter under the sharp eye of Stagers
and his friends, that, in a word, escape was
out of the question, I turned on my tormentor.
``What does all this mean?'' I said.
``What does File expect me to do?''
``Don't believe he exactly knows,'' said
Stagers. ``Something or other to get him
clear of hemp.''
``But what stuff!'' I replied. ``How can I
help him? What possible influence could
I exert?''
``Can't say,'' answered Stagers, imperturbably.
``File has a notion you're 'most cunning
enough for anything. Best try something, doc.''
``And what if I won't do it?'' said I.
``What does it matter to me if the rascal
swings or no?''
``Keep cool, doc,'' returned Stagers. ``I'm
only agent in this here business. My principal,
that's File, he says: `Tell Sanderaft
to find some way to get me clear. Once out,
I give him ten thousand dollars. If he don't
turn up something that will suit, I'll blow
about that coroner business and Lou Wilson,
and break him up generally.' ''
``You don't mean,'' said I, in a cold sweat
--``you don't mean that, if I can't do this
impossible thing, he will inform on me?''
``Just so,'' returned Stagers. ``Got a
cigar, doc?''
I only half heard him. What a frightful
position! I had been leading a happy and an
increasingly profitable life--no scrapes and
no dangers; and here, on a sudden, I had
presented to me the alternative of saving a
wretch from the gallows or of spending
unlimited years in a State penitentiary. As
for the money, it became as dead leaves for
this once only in my life. My brain seemed
to be spinning round. I grew weak all over.
``Cheer up a little,'' said Stagers. ``Take
a nip of whisky. Things ain't at the worst,
by a good bit. You just get ready, and we'll
start by the morning train. Guess you'll try
out something smart enough as we travel
along. Ain't got a heap of time to lose.''
I was silent. A great anguish had me in
its grip. I might squirm as I would, it was
all in vain. Hideous plans rose to my mind,
born of this agony of terror. I might murder
Stagers, but what good would that do?
As to File, he was safe from my hand. At
last I became too confused to think any
longer. ``When do we leave?'' I said feebly.
``At six to-morrow,'' he returned.
How I was watched and guarded, and how
hurried over a thousand miles of rail to my
Opening at page 310, vol. i, I lit upon
``Lachesis,'' which proved to my amazement
to be snake-venom. This Mr. Jahr stated to
be indicated for use in upward of a hundred
symptoms. At once it occurred to me that
``Lach.'' was the medicine for my money, and
that it was quite needless to waste cash on
the box. I therefore bought a small jar of
``Lach.'' and a lot of little pills, and started
for home.
My old woman proved a fast friend; and
as she sent me numerous patients, I by and
by altered my sign to ``Homeopathic Physician
and Surgeon,'' whatever that may mean,
and was regarded by my medical brothers as
a lost sheep, and by the little-pill doctors as
one who had seen the error of his ways.
In point of fact, my new practice had
decided advantages. All pills looked and tasted
alike, and the same might be said of the
powders, so that I was never troubled by those
absurd investigations into the nature of
remedies which some patients are prone to
make. Of course I desired to get business,
and it was thereforeobviouslyunwise to give
little pills of ``Lac.,'' or ``Puls.,'' or ``Sep.,''
when a man needed a dose of oil, or a white-
faced girl iron, or the like. I soon made the
useful discovery that it was only necessary
to prescribe cod-liver oil, for instance, as a
diet, in order to make use of it where
required. When a man got impatient over an
ancient ague, I usually found, too, that I
could persuade him to let me try a good dose
of quinine; while, on the other hand, there
was a distinct pecuniary advantage in those
cases of the shakes which could be made to
believe that it ``was best not to interfere
with nature.'' I ought to add that this kind
of faith is uncommon among folks who carry
hods or build walls.
For women who are hysterical, and go
heart and soul into the business of being
sick, I have found the little pills a most
charming resort, because you cannot carry
the refinement of symptoms beyond what my
friend Jahr has done in the way of fitting
medicines to them, so that if I had taken
seriously to practising this double form of
therapeutics, it had, as I saw, certain
conveniences.
Another year went by, and I was beginning
to prosper in my new mode of life. My
medicines (being chiefly milk-sugar, with
variations as to the labels) cost next to nothing;
and as I charged pretty well for both these
and my advice, I was now able to start a gig.
I solemnly believe that I should have
continued to succeed in the practice of my
profession if it had not happened that fate was
once more unkind to me, by throwing in my
path one of my old acquaintances. I had a
consultation one day with the famous homeopath
Dr. Zwanzig. As we walked away we
were busily discussing the case of a poor
consumptive fellow who previously had lost
a leg. In consequence of this defect, Dr.
Zwanzig considered that the ten-thousandth
of a grain of aurum would be an overdose,
and that it must be fractioned so as to allow
for the departed leg, otherwise the rest of the
man would be getting a leg-dose too much.
I was particularly struck with this view of
the case, but I was still more, and less
pleasingly, impressed at the sight of my former
patient Stagers, who nodded to me familiarly
from the opposite pavement.
I was not at all surprised when, that
evening quite late, I found this worthywaiting in
my office. I looked around uneasily, which
was clearly understood by my friend, who
retorted: ``Ain't took nothin' of yours, doc.
You don't seem right awful glad to see me.
You needn't be afraid--I've only fetched
you a job, and a right good one, too.''
I replied that I had my regular business,
that I preferred he should get some one else,
and pretty generally made Mr. Stagers aware
that I had had enough of him. I did not ask
him to sit down, and, just as I supposed him
about to leave, he seated himself with a grin,
remarking, ``No use, doc; got to go into it
this one time.''
At this I, naturally enough, grew angry
and used several rather violent phrases.
``No use, doc,'' said Stagers.
Then I softened down, and laughed a little,
and treated the thing as a joke, whatever it
was, for I dreaded to hear.
But Stagers was fate. Stagers was
inevitable. ``Won't do, doc--not even money
wouldn't get you off.''
``No?'' said I, interrogatively, and as coolly
as I could, contriving at the same time to
move toward the window. It was summer,
the sashes were up, the shutters half drawn
in, and a policeman whom I knew was lounging
opposite, as I had noticed when I entered.
I would give Stagers a scare, charge him
with theft--anything but get mixed up with
his kind again. It was the folly of a moment
and I should have paid dear for it.
He must have understood me, the scoundrel,
for in an instant I felt a cold ring of
steel against my ear, and a tiger clutch on
my cravat. ``Sit down,'' he said. ``What a
fool you are! Guess you forgot that there
coroner's business and the rest.'' Needless to
say that I obeyed. ``Best not try that again,''
continued my guest. ``Wait a moment'';
and rising, he closed the window.
There was no resource left but to listen;
and what followed I shall condense rather
than relate it in the language employed by
Mr. Stagers.
It appeared that my other acquaintance
Mr. File had been guilty of a cold-blooded
and long-premeditated murder, for which he
had been tried and convicted. He now lay
in jail awaiting his execution, which was to
take place at Carsonville, Ohio. It seemed
that with Stagers and others he had formed
a band of expertcounterfeiters in the West.
Their business lay in the manufacture of
South American currencies. File had thus
acquired a fortune so considerable that I was
amazed at his having allowed his passion to
seduce him into profitable" target="_blank" title="a.没有利润的；无益的">unprofitable crime. In his
agony he unfortunately thought of me, and
had bribed Stagers largely in order that he
might be induced to find me. When the
narration had reached this stage, and I had
been made fully to understand that I was now
and hereafter under the sharp eye of Stagers
and his friends, that, in a word, escape was
out of the question, I turned on my tormentor.
``What does all this mean?'' I said.
``What does File expect me to do?''
``Don't believe he exactly knows,'' said
Stagers. ``Something or other to get him
clear of hemp.''
``But what stuff!'' I replied. ``How can I
help him? What possible influence could
I exert?''
``Can't say,'' answered Stagers, imperturbably.
``File has a notion you're 'most cunning
enough for anything. Best try something, doc.''
``And what if I won't do it?'' said I.
``What does it matter to me if the rascal
swings or no?''
``Keep cool, doc,'' returned Stagers. ``I'm
only agent in this here business. My principal,
that's File, he says: `Tell Sanderaft
to find some way to get me clear. Once out,
I give him ten thousand dollars. If he don't
turn up something that will suit, I'll blow
about that coroner business and Lou Wilson,
and break him up generally.' ''
``You don't mean,'' said I, in a cold sweat
--``you don't mean that, if I can't do this
impossible thing, he will inform on me?''
``Just so,'' returned Stagers. ``Got a
cigar, doc?''
I only half heard him. What a frightful
position! I had been leading a happy and an
increasingly profitable life--no scrapes and
no dangers; and here, on a sudden, I had
presented to me the alternative of saving a
wretch from the gallows or of spending
unlimited years in a State penitentiary. As
for the money, it became as dead leaves for
this once only in my life. My brain seemed
to be spinning round. I grew weak all over.
``Cheer up a little,'' said Stagers. ``Take
a nip of whisky. Things ain't at the worst,
by a good bit. You just get ready, and we'll
start by the morning train. Guess you'll try
out something smart enough as we travel
along. Ain't got a heap of time to lose.''
I was silent. A great anguish had me in
its grip. I might squirm as I would, it was
all in vain. Hideous plans rose to my mind,
born of this agony of terror. I might murder
Stagers, but what good would that do?
As to File, he was safe from my hand. At
last I became too confused to think any
longer. ``When do we leave?'' I said feebly.
``At six to-morrow,'' he returned.
How I was watched and guarded, and how
hurried over a thousand miles of rail to my
- upward [´ʌpwəd]
a.&ad.向上(的)；以上 (初中英语单词) - therefore [´ðeəfɔ:] ad.&conj.因此；所以 (初中英语单词)
- whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- medical [´medikəl] a.医学的；医疗的 (初中英语单词)
- obviously [´ɔbviəsli] ad.明显地；显而易见地 (初中英语单词)
- instance [´instəns] n.例子，实例，例证 (初中英语单词)
- persuade [pə´sweid] v.(被)说服；使相信 (初中英语单词)
- distinct [di´stiŋkt] a.清楚的；独特的 (初中英语单词)
- advantage [əd´vɑ:ntidʒ] n.优势；利益 (初中英语单词)
- resort [ri´zɔ:t] vi.求助；乞灵；诉诸 (初中英语单词)
- chiefly [´tʃi:fli] ad.主要地；尤其 (初中英语单词)
- consequence [´kɔnsikwəns] n.结果；后果；推断 (初中英语单词)
- otherwise [´ʌðəwaiz] ad.另外 conj.否则 (初中英语单词)
- worthy [´wə:ði] a.有价值的；值得的 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- supposed [sə´pəuzd] a.想象的；假定的 (初中英语单词)
- violent [´vaiələnt] a.强暴的；猛烈的 (初中英语单词)
- policeman [pə´li:smən] n.警察 (初中英语单词)
- charge [tʃɑ:dʒ] v.收费；冲锋 n.费用 (初中英语单词)
- instant [´instənt] a.立即的 n.紧迫；瞬间 (初中英语单词)
- clutch [klʌtʃ] v.抓住 n.爪子；控制 (初中英语单词)
- resource [ri´zɔ:s] n.手段；智谋 (初中英语单词)
- condense [kən´dens] v.凝结；节略；摘要 (初中英语单词)
- relate [ri´leit] v.阐明；使联系；涉及 (初中英语单词)
- guilty [´gilti] a.有罪的；心虚的 (初中英语单词)
- expert [´ekspə:t] n.&a.专家；内行 (初中英语单词)
- considerable [kən´sidərəbəl] a.重要的；值得重视 (初中英语单词)
- passion [´pæʃən] n.激情；激怒；恋爱 (初中英语单词)
- terror [´terə] n.恐怖；惊骇 (初中英语单词)
- counter [´kauntə] n.计算者；柜台；计算机 (高中英语单词)
- needless [´ni:dləs] a.不必要的；无用的 (高中英语单词)
- prescribe [pri´skraib] v.指示；处(方)；嘱咐 (高中英语单词)
- impatient [im´peiʃənt] a.不耐烦的，急躁的 (高中英语单词)
- prosper [´prɔspə] v.(使...)繁荣(成功) (高中英语单词)
- solemnly [´sɔləmli] ad.严肃地，庄严地 (高中英语单词)
- previously [´pri:viəsli] ad.预先；以前 (高中英语单词)
- defect [di´fekt, ´di:fekt] n.缺点，不足 (高中英语单词)
- execution [,eksi´kju:ʃən] n.执行；演奏；表演 (高中英语单词)
- unfortunately [ʌn´fɔ:tʃunitli] ad.不幸；不朽；可惜 (高中英语单词)
- hereafter [hiər´ɑ:ftə] ad.&n.将来；来世 (高中英语单词)
- profitable [´prɔfitəbəl] a.有益的；有用的 (高中英语单词)
- spinning [´spiniŋ] n.纺织 a.纺织品的 (高中英语单词)
- anguish [´æŋgwiʃ] n.(极度的)痛苦；苦恼 (高中英语单词)
- hideous [´hidiəs] a.丑陋的，可怕的 (高中英语单词)
- uncommon [ʌn´kɔmən] a.非常的，非凡的，罕见的 (英语四级单词)
- refinement [ri´fainmənt] n.精炼；精制；文雅 (英语四级单词)
- unkind [,ʌn´kaind] a.不客气的；不和善的 (英语四级单词)
- busily [´bizili] ad.忙碌地 (英语四级单词)
- alternative [ɔ:l´tə:nətiv] a.二中选一的 n.选择 (英语四级单词)
- gallows [´gæləuz] n.绞刑架 (英语四级单词)
- unwise [ʌn´waiz] a.不聪明的，愚笨的 (英语六级单词)
- hysterical [hi´sterikəl] a.歇斯底里的，癔病的 (英语六级单词)
- departed [di´pɑ:tid] a.已往的；已故的 (英语六级单词)
- uneasily [ʌn´i:zili] ad.不安地；局促地 (英语六级单词)
- cravat [krə´væt] n.领带；围巾 (英语六级单词)
- unprofitable [ʌn´prɔfitəbl] a.没有利润的；无益的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
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