of the real article. The "battery" stood at "parade rest," and the officers saluted "To The Colors." One would have laughed except for the solemnity of the occasion. Lieutenant Horton was up and around on borrowed crutches, which were not mates; one being light in color and four inches shorter than the dark one, and the other, dark in color and four inches longer than the light one. They answered the purpose, except that they made the lieutenant appear very lop-sided. Love for another is the greatest privilege given to mankind. It made one's heart glad to see the tall, powerful, handsome officer hobbling along beside his beloved, who was slender and wasp-like, whose voice was like unto a bird's, whose eyes were like diamonds, whose complexion was like velvet, whose beauty was like that of an angel, whose temper was like a wildcat. I repeat: love for another is the greatest privilege given to mankind. Every man has the right to love and to receive the love of one woman. But when two women are in love with one man it makes things discomforting for all concerned. Every man has the right to love some woman of his choice, provided her inclinations are consulted in the matter, and he should consider it a solemn and precious duty. The good book says that "No man can serve two masters.' Therefore, a man cannot love two women, for the love of a woman means to serve her and that was what our hero, if he be a hero, was trying to do; for he confessed to me: because he thinks they are going to die and he won't have to fulfill the promise." "Can't they be cured?" "No, not cured exactly, but the spells can be prevented from coming." "How?" "By giving in to them; by humoring them; by letting them have their own way in all things and on all occasions," I explained. He set the light-colored crutch on the ground and settled himself onto both of them equally, looking like an automobile with one side on top of a ridge, and the other wheels in a ditch, with both tires flat. "Perhaps the French are different," he said. "Perhaps," I agreed, "but that girl certainly departed from the wayside, if they are, for she had a genuine spell of good old-fashioned American hysterics, with embellishments." The lieutenant sighed. Then he asked: "No, not much, but the other one is. She's a regular spitfire about it. She says that if I ever speak to the other girl, she'll kill her." "That's bad," I informed him. "Very bad! Jealousy is one of the worst evils a person can possess. Such people have broad and expansive imaginations. Then conjure up all kinds of things that never happen. They make "Doc, I don't know which one of those two girls I life a misery for themselves and all parties concerned." love best." "I don't think you love either one of them,"I replied. "Love is a sacred trust, and no man can love twice at the same time. Yours is not love, although you have deluded yourself into thinking it is. You can like them both, but you can't love them both. You are in love with neither of them." He pulled himself up to his full dignified height with one crutch, the dark one, which left the other one dangling. He pointed it at me and said: "I tell you I love 'em both! It's hard to tell which one I love best, although, maybe, I hadn't ought to love the one that had the hysterics. Is hysterics chronic?" "How's that?" he inquired. "By never letting you out of their sight if they can help it, and, when they do, they accuse you of many evil and malicious things that you never did. They are naturally suspicious. They are very apt to accuse you of hugging another woman, when you are perfectly innocent of the offense and only kissed her a couple of times." He lit a cigarette and looked thoughtful. I was sure that I was making a profound impression on him and probably would be the factor that would save him from further foolishness. "No, my boy, never tie up to a jealous woman,” I continued. "They keep you in nights, too." He sighed again and exclaimed: "They're both peaches, though! Ain't it a fact? I love 'em both!" "Sure!" I answered, emphatically. "Always! A woman that is subject to hysterics is apt to have a spell on the slightest provocation. That's the way they get new hats, and dresses, and keep their husbands in at nights. They just have a spell, and their spouse thinks they are going to die, anyway, so he promises anything they ask; partly because he sympathizes with them in their affliction and thinks, maybe, he hasn't done just right, and partly if I had fallen flat in my uplifting mission, but instead of giving up in disgust, I was patient. "It's all in the way you look at them," I said. "Now He did not let me finish, but, instead, cast a horrified glance over my shoulder and started down the street as fast as two unmatched crutches and one good leg could carry him. I turned around to see what had caused his great consternation and sudden departure and found myself face to face with the Madame, the girl's mother, who was in love with him. She did not slacken her pace, but said in passing: "Bon jour, Monsieur. I hurry; please excuse me. I wish to speak to the Lieutenant Horton." I bowed at her fleeting figure. "Oui, oui, Madame; with pleasure," I said. And I meant every word of it. She was going fairly fast, but she never caught the lieutenant. He was making a strategic retreat and doing it well. A little thing like the loss of the use of one foot did not hinder him in the least. Shortly, I met her coming back, and she stopped for conversational pur poses. "Monsieur," she said, "will you tell the Lieutenant Horton that I wish him to come to my house for dinner this evening? I could not tell him-you Americans go so fast, always." "I will tell him, Madame," I replied. "Thank you, Monsieur, thank you. Perhaps you would do me another favor?" I bowed and said: "I love the Lieutenant Horton. He is began. ." she "How can I be of any help under such circumstances?" I asked. "You can persuade him. I will have dinner for you tonight, too; and you can bring the lieutenant. Tell him, if you please, and bring him to my house. I request it." She had given me a rash duty to perform, and I had promised to do it before I was acquainted with the facts, as many fools have done before me. This thought comforted me greatly-I hate to be the pioneer in anything. It is my unfortunate habit to follow in the other fellow's footprints and make the same mistakes he does, unless he puts up a big red danger sign, and, even then, I'm just as apt not to see it. I knew that I would have to chloroform and hog-tie the lieutenant to get him to accompany me. "The lieutenant has a conference, a school, every evening," I explained to her. "Tonight it is Saturday," she said, "and there is no school." She was right, although I had forgotten it. "Remember, Monsieur le Docteur, you have promised," she continued. "I will have dinner at six o'clock. I shall expect you." "Madame, I thank you for the invitation. I will come. In the uttered statement I told the truth, partly; I was not thankful for the invitation, but I would go. I found myself getting polite, like the people I was asso "Madame, pray accept my humble services; anything ciated with. I have also found, in my own case, that you wish; what is it?" I cannot always be polite and truthful at the same time. So I went to the dinner. I went alone. I explained that I had not been able to see the lieutenant as he had gone to Clermont on a truck, which was a true statement of affairs. But I did not explain that I had kept shy of seeing him until he was gone, as I was afraid to mention the subject of dinner to him while he carried an armament of crutches. "Madame, 'tis not for me to prevent or discourage. I wish you much happiness," I broke in. For some reason I realized that I had said something wrong, or, at least, premature. The Madame looked puzzled, but she let it go as was usual, considering it as another American blunder with the language. "The lieutenant, Monsieur, will not be friendly with me," she said. "He is embarrassed." I bowed again. VOL. VI THE OATH. I swear by Apollo, the physician, and Esculapius, and Health, and All-Heal, and all the gods and goddesses, that, according to my ability and judgment, I will keep this Oath and this stipulation-to reckon him who taught me this Art equally dear to me as my parents, to share my substance with him, and relieve his necessities if required; to look upon his offspring in the same footing as my own brothers, and to teach them this art, if they shall wish to learn it without fee or stipulation; and that by precept, lecture, and every other mode of instruction, I will impart a knowledge of the Art to my own sons, and those of my teachers, and to disciples bound by a stipulation and oath according to the law of medicine, but to none others. I will follow that system of regimen which, according to my ability and judgment, I consider for the benefit of my patients, and abstain from whatever is deleterious and mischievous. I will give no deadly medicine to any one if asked, nor suggest any such counsel; and in like manner I will not give to a woman a pessary to produce abortion. With purity and with holiness I will pass my life and practice my Art. I will not cut persons laboring under the stone, but will leave this to be done by men who are practitioners of this work. Into whatever houses I enter, I will go into them fo the benefit of the sick, and will abstain from every voluntary act of mischief and corruption; and, further, from the seduction of females or males, of freemen and slaves. Whatever, in connection with my professional practice or not, in connection with it, I see or hear, in the life of men, which ought not to be spoken of abroad, I will not divulge, as reckoning that all such should be kept secret. While I continue to keep this Oath unviolated, may it be granted to me to enjoy life and the practice of the Art, respected by all men, in all times! but should I trespass and violate this Oath, may the reverse be No. 2. INADEQUACY OF THE CNIDIAN SENTENCES. Those who composed what are called "The Cnidian Sentences" have described accurately what symptoms the sick experience in every disease, and how certain of them terminate; and in so far a man, even who is not a physician, might describe them correctly, provided he put the proper inquiries to the sick themselves, what their complaints are. But those symptoms which the physician ought to know beforehand without being informed of them by the patient, are, for the most part, omitted, some in one case and some in others, and certain symptoms of vital importance for a conjectural judgment. But when, in addition to the diagnosis, they describe how each complaint should be treated, in these cases I entertain a still greater difference of opinion with them respecting the rules they have laid down; and not only do I not agree with them on this account, but also because the remedies they use are few in number; fɔr, with the exception of acute diseases, the only medicines which they give are drastic purgatives, with whey and milk at certain times. If, indeed, these remedies had been good and suitable to the complaints in which they are recommended, they would have been still more deserving of recommendation, if while few in number, they were sufficient; but this is by no means the case. Those, indeed, who have remodeled these "Sentences" have treated of the reedies applicable in each complaint more in a medical fashion. But neither have the ancients written anything worth mentioning respecting regimen, although this be a great omission. Some of them, indeed, were not ignorant of the many varieties of each complaint, and their manifold divisions, but when they wish to tell clearly the different varieties of each disease they do not write correctly; for their species would be almost innumerable if every symptom experienced by the patients were held to coastitute a disease, and receive a different name. Hippocrates, on Regimen in Acute Diseases f MY BROOK SI climbed the resounding stairs my spirit raged within me. I was tired and I'd been promised my vacation for May, and now I couldn't go. Back in my room I slumped into a big chair and damned the world, the hospital and the superintendent, in particular. I'd served nine months of my internship with never a day's leave and now the trout were biting in the cool streams of the far Catskills and next day I was to have been off. Beside me on the bed lay my little rod, dusted and oiled; my reel and a tobacco jar full of flies. How I had fingered them over these last few days, almost deciding on the pair with which to make my first cast. They were all there, ready to pack in my grip, with my flannel shirt and old felt hat and my pipes and a thumbed volume of "Aequanimitas." Wearily I rose and picked the things from the bed and carried them. back to the closet shelf. The joy was gone from life. And all because Bubbles had carelessly jabbed his finger with a needle and was laid up with an infected hand. Fishing? Hell, no! the "Sup" had tried to be nice about it; he knew I'd worked hard and needed a rest and all that sort of rot, but really someone had to take Bubbles' place on the obstetrical service and I seemed to be the only one available. Not only no fishing trip, but another man's work to do! I filled my pipe and tried to read, but not even the magic of Osler's rugged philosophy would soothe my disappointment. I scribbled a telegram and took the telephone from the stand by my bed: "Fishing trip off. Will write. Sorry." "Sorry!" I was raging. And so, that ended, I slipped off my clothes and tumbled miserably into bed. I have a friend who prides himself that he can sit alone before an open fire and, with eyes half closed, spend a happy evening hearing with his mind's ear his favorite opera. He says he hears the whole thing from the moment the first violin starts tuning up for the overture till the last rattle of applause dies away. I believe him, but I don't envy him; for I have an equally prized capability. I can lie in bed and fish my favorite brook from its icy spring to the point where it tumbles joyously into the river. I don't often get as far as that; usually sleep overtakes me part way down. It's a valuable accomplishment, much more soul-satisfying Through the dense pine thicket I crawl toward the faint tinkle of dripping water. At last, lying flat on the dry pine needles, I reach the pool's edge. A high mosscovered cliff ahead of me oozes water, which drops in a dozen tiny streams into a black pool. A tumble of great rocks, deep covered with moss, rim the pool, while overhead the low wide branches of a black birch canopy it from the day. The trout are black as the pool itself, save for their crimson spots and their steelgray flanks. But they are always small. That pool I visit first on every fishing trip; it seems to me to be the perfect shrine for the Goddess of the Stream. I know that there, if anywhere on earth, the fairies and wood nymphs come to play on moonlight nights. And always I gently drop a fly into that pool, hoping to lure the granddaddy of all those little trout, and always one of the grandsons fairly leaps to the hook and I wet my hands and slip him wriggling back into his native element. Thence the stream winds narrowly till it gaily splashes into a big, bright sun-swept basin. That is where the others always start fishing my brook. They don't know my hidden shrine. Here I knot on a brown fly, no bigger than my little finger nail, and drift it across the water. A lean brown shape shoots out from under a flat rock, swirls and shoots back again, my line goes taut and Out into the open he wrist my comes again and I slide him shimmering in the sunlight up a mossy rock. A tap on the head and he lies quiet on the fragrant ferns in my basket. up. Then a succession of gravelly basins and ripples, and the brook plunges back into the dark woods and starts on its mad tumble down the mountain side. White falls and a deep pool, white falls and a deep dark pool; it is like fishing down a giant's stairway. And in each pool the trout have customs all their own. In one they lie in the swift water at the base of the falls, in one they always hide under a point of submerged rock. And each pool presents its own problem to the angler. The best spot in the whole stream has right at its upper end a |