you we ical profession in civil life went into army service. Now this may surprise you when you know that we really went in as doctors to serve our country, to serve the boys in the camps and in the trenches; and it wasn't at all as supposed, that we went in to serve you." At this the colonel coolly turned his back to the doctor and raised his tail straight in the air. "Sometimes, Fred," said his father, “I am almost led to believe the colonel gives hardly more than superficial attention to some points which doctors think are quite important. Attention!" shouted the doctor, "About FACE! Into the army we went, Colonel," continued Dr. Jones after his order had. been executed, "and without hesitation or reservation we placed ourselves trustfully and absolutely into your hands." The colonel's right ear dropped down to the side in a curious knowing fashion, and he winked slowly. "Attention!" The ear stood up. "But," the doctor went on, "But," the doctor went on, "though we went in with the innocence of a lamb, we came out with the wisdom of a Solomon." The colonel gave a slight shake. "So," said the doctor, "if you should consider reviving the Medical Reserve Corps it might be best to think the matter over first. You will find some doctors who think highly of soldiering titles, such as Captain and Major and Colonel; you will find others who think more highly of professional and scientific usefulness; but you will find all will be loath to acting as a steed upon which the regular medical corps can ride to higher rank and its own personal glory." Here the colonel took a look around the barn. "No, Colonel," said the doctor, "there is no one else present here but Fred, so you need have no anxiety. And as we are alone," -the doctor's voice had risen and become more emphatic,—“let me tell you this before we close this subject for the morning. You've clean missed the measure of the men of the civil medical profession who gave up everything they had to go into this war with you, and whose talents you wasted like water and whose character you never took count of. Tangled up in red tape and held down by the inexperienced boys you made their commanding officers, you compelled them to inaction when they might have been saving countless lives; you doomed them by delays when they might have carried your whole corps to real accomplishment and actual glory. Your responsibilities, Colonel, were great, and if you had taken the medical profession in as your partners in medical matters instead of your inferiors, you would have won for your country much that you have forever lost. They made no profession of military matters, but they were gentlemen at heart-most of these medical men,-and you need not have been fearful or jealous of your own positions or your own rewards. You were," but here the colonel could stand it no longer. He drew up his head and flopped down on his haunches and let out the most piteous "hee, haw-hee, haw-hee, haw,-haw,haw." "Come, Fred," the doctor said as he rose, "we may as well go to the cabin," and as they walked out he added, and I believe I could eat some dinner, too." . The fact that the doctor's appetite was returning had not been lost on Mary or her mother. Women are keen observers in these small matters which are often the straws telling the wind's direction. telling the wind's direction. But not until this day had they noticed any real signs of encouragement. It was after dinner when they were all sitting about the doorway that the doctor remarked to the family at large as he looked off toward the blue heights in the distance. "Here we have been for almost two months and I don't believe any of you appreciate what a beautiful spot this is, with the brook and the trees and the hills and those magnificent mountains over there and the blue sky above us. Mary and her mother exchanged glances. After this day Fred was a regular attendant at the morning conferences, and each day to the family were the doctor's returning spirits made more evident. Fred did not deem it necessary to mention to his mother or sister anything of these morning experiences; for, as he said to himself, "women don't understand these things." Fred did not himself understand that all these days in which he had not missed a word of this wonderful and illuminating talk from his father to the "Colonel" that his father had been taking this means of unburdening his mind to his boy. Dr. Jones himself knew how perfectly. useless it would be to tell these things to the world; but to talk them out to someone made him feel better and in the course of a week he had talked out enough to make him feel like quite a different man; and when Dr. Ledyard arrived he found his patient cured. JAMES BAYARD CLARK. New York, N. Y. PROTEOSES AND PEPTONES "He slipped on the damp pavement as he was opening the cell-door, and in trying to save himself, fell and broke his arm just above the wrist." This is not a bad history, is it? It is from "The Black Tulip," by Dumas. The date of the accident was August 20, 1672. The patient was the jailer of the Buytenhof, while the occupant of the cell was Dr. Cornelius van Baerle. As the patient was of a frugal nature, he decided that he would save expense by accepting the offer of the prisoner's professional services. So the doctor called for splints, which were forthcoming in the shape of two barrel staves, in addition to bandages, and reduced the fracture. Shortly thereafter he was transferred to another prison and did not have an opportunity to follow his patient up until the following February. At this time the following dialogue occurred: "Look here, Master Gryphus, are you dissatisfied with the way I set your arm, or with the price I asked you?" "Zounds! quite the contrary. You set it only too well. There must have been some sorcery about it, for at the end of six weeks I could use it as well as if it never had been broken. So much so, that the Buytenhof doctor, who knows his business, wanted to break it again so as to set it according to rule, promising me this time that I should be fully three months without being able to use it." It is regrettable to note that despite the excellent endresult, the patient showed an entire lack of gratitude for the professional services for which he had paid nothing. Times, of course, have changed since 1672. Did the jailer have a Colles' fracture, or did he not? If fractures just above the wrist were Colles' fractures after Colles described them, what were they before Colles was born? Dr. Pilcher of Brooklyn published in the Annals of Surgery about four years ago a monograph on fractures of the lower portion of the radius, in which he did not refer to these fractures as Colles' fractures at all. In doing so he merely followed the precedent of Dumas, who did not call this a Colles' fracture either. The movement to do away with eponymic names is dedicated to a worthy cause. The B. N. A. would enable us to pass, mentally, from one end of the alimentary canal to the other, without paying tribute to Tomes, Waldeyer, Lieberkühn, Heister, Auerbach, Meissner, Peyer, Houston, Morgagni "and others." No one de sires to detract from the honor of the men who first described the structures which bear their names; but the crypts were there before Lieberkühn was; the patch preceded Peyer. What could be more contrary to the purpose of the B. N. A. than to refer to it as some are said to do, as Barker's Names for Anatomy? At all events, here is a timely footnote from an article by Colonel E. B. Vedder, of the Army Medical Corps, in the Journal of Immunology: "It is believed that the use of the term 'Wassermann reaction' should be discontinuel. The test is really an application of the Bordet-Gengou reaction, and Wassermann's ideas as to the specificity of the luetic antigen have been discarded long ago, together with most of the technique described by him." If we do not follow this suggestion, let us be accurate in our terminology and refer to it as the "von Wassermann reaction." The Bed-Side Manner, as Expounded by Charles Dickens "Doctor Parker Peps, one of the Court Physicians, and a man of immense reputation for assisting at the increase of great families, was walking up and down the drawing-room with his hands behind him, to the unspeakable admiration of the family Surgeon, who had regularly puffed the case for the last six weeks, among all his patients, friends and acquaintances, as one to which he was in hourly expectation, day and night, of being summoned, in conjunction with Doctor Parker Peps. *** They stood for a few seconds looking at the ground. Then, on the motion-made in dumb show-of Doctor Parker Peps, they went upstairs; the family practitioner opening the room door for that distinguished professional, and following him out, with most obsequious politeness.” Dombey and Son. The most treasured possession of one of our medical friends whose avocation is archaeology, is a fragment of a Babylonian brick covered with cuneiform characters of which the following is an approximate translation: "A midwife, who was teaching her art to a young woman, asked the young woman what she would do in case of a post partum hemorrhage; whereat the young woman said that she would tie the post partum artery." R. S., M. D. BEGINNINGS OF MEDICAL PRACTICE IN AMERICA. Hans Visscher, the First Chiropodist in New Amsterdam, Operates on Peter Stuyvesant's Toenails. POKER, ETHICS AND IDEALS* HEN I was a young Senior "prep," one day a great man, a man well advanced in years, whose statue now occupies a place in the Hall of Fame at Washington, came to our college and addressed the students in chapel. There is one thing which he said that I well remember. It was this: "Whatever of wealth, fame and achievement has come to me in life, I would gladly exchange with the youngest and most humble senior preparatory student in this chapel for the privilege of standing again at the thresh-' old of life with the opportunities which this presents." At that time I was not able to realize that this man was in earnest in what he said. I thought the trade was too unequal. It was not until long afterwards that I knew he was telling the truth and he would have gladly exchanged his fame and achievement in life for the wonderful opportunity of the man who stands at its threshold. It has always seemed to me too bad that one standing at the threshold too often does not recognize the priceless worth of this opportunity until it is long since passed by and is then too late. In choosing my career there was some discussion in our family as to whether the profession of the law or the profession of medicine was best suited to my qualifications. My mother, recognizing in me a certain amount of pugnacity, thought that this quality might be best utilized in the legal profession; my father, however, having observed on numerous occasions an abnormal degree of original sin, thought some profession more ennobling and more uplifting than that of the law ought to be selected for me. I agreed with my father and thus I came to study medicine. My father was wise when he selected for me medicine as an uplifting and ennobling profession. In it the occasions for doing good and for lightening the burdens of humanity are so many that he must certainly be a very perverse individual who does not recognize and respond to its manifold opportunities. The doctor. in his ordinary daily work is continually meeting with people. who are down and out and who need a kindly encouraging word and a helping hand; at such times encouragement and help are particularly appreciated, and the seed which he sows is much more apt to take root and grow. The other day a man brought his wife to me and in his statement concerning her said: "We have had another doctor and we know he is one of the very best physicians in the city, but he doesn't talk, and my wife is in a condition where she must have a doctor who will talk to her." This man said, in a very few words, a very important thing, which we, as doctors, must take more into consideration in the treatment of our patients. Very often our talking to them, our interest in their welfare, our words of advice and encouragement, our appeal, has a better effect than our medicines. effect than our medicines. I think we too often fail to appreciate this; in our anxiety over physical conditions we must not neglect the mental. In our daily rounds we should strive to bring the gospel of good cheer, and to every patient; in the words of Edward Everett Hale, preach to them to look forward, not backward, upnot down, out—not in, and to lend them a helping hand. It is not necessary to be long in the procession without realizing these words of Osler: "A young man may light his fires on other altars than those of Venus and Bacchus." The inward fires of the medical youth may be easily quenched on the altar of his profession, instead of being dissipated in other ways. The duties of the day in the life of a busy practitioner are so fatiguing and onerous that when the day's work is over, the temptation is great for relaxation and rest. Under these circumstances it is somewhat difficult to go home and begin plugging on some medical subject—yet if one wishes to attain anything more than an average success, this plugging, this spending of extra hours when both mind and body are exhausted, is absolutely essential. One can truly say in medicine, that we rise out of our dead selves to higher things. We often hear medical students speak of the hard work which they must put in during their medical course in order to obtain their degree, but this work, this study and concentration, is only a beginning of the efforts they will be compelled to make if they expect to obtain success. Medical enthusiasm and interest is only kept alive by continuous effort. There is something very uncanny in the power of habit, and, also, something very encouraging in knowing that good habits, when formed, are just about as hard to break as bad. Unconscious to ourselves, habits form, and if they are habits of study and industry, these will stick to us and drive us forward just as tenaciously as bad habits will cling to us and pull us downward. The youth, who, in the beginning of his medical career, commences to fool *Read at the annual banquet of Epsilon Chapter, Nu Sigma Nu fraternity, March 2nd, 1918. he away his time and spend it carelessly, thinking that later on he will mend his ways and after a while begin to do differently, in the majority of instances is going to be doomed to disappointment. There isn't one chance in a hundred that a man who hasn't applied himself and formed habits of industry and system in his work, before reaches the age of forty, ever will. After that age, the die is usually cast. It is too late then to speak of achievement. The scientific part of your work which lightens it and ennobles it, and keeps you alive with enthusiasm and interest, will not find much response. Your profession will only mean to you then a way of earning your living, and this sordid view you will have until the end of your life. It is a shame that the youth standing at Life's threshold does not realize these things as he sees them later on, and too often permits these golden, earlier productive years to pass by barren of accomplishment. The profession of medicine is a jealous one and will not permit of your worshipping at another shrine. I have followed the course of one of my colleagues who started in practice about the time I did, in another locality. He had quite a genius for verse-making, the writing of songs and the staging of plays, and in the community in which he lived he made a very enviable reputation along these lines. The reputation he acquired in this way, however, did not increase his standing as a physician, and after several years, because of a lack of practice, he was compelled to seek a new location, and finally, after a number of years, he gave up the profession entirely and started in some other kind of work. People do not employ you professionally because you are a good writer or a good dancer or a good card player, but because they feel and believe that you are a good doctor. The old adage— "Shoemaker, stick to your last," applies here. one We often speak of personality as a very important factor in one's success in obtaining a practice. We see man who presents a fair appearance, pleasing in manner and address, and yet for some reason or other he fails to get on; we observe another man who outwardly is uncouth and rough, and seems, on first acquaintanceship, to have nothing attractive about him and yet is able to draw the people to him and keep them. It is somewhat difficult to analyze this term "personality," just wherein the personality of one man fails and that of another man succeeds. A successful personality in a medical man must be such as to inspire confidence. I have known not a few medical men who have been well qualified for their work, but because of a lack of this quality, the quality to inspire confidence in their patients, they fail to get on. They seem to be uncertain in the sick-room about what they want to do; they show a lack of decision and a timidity which impresses itself upon their patients and destroys their confidence in them. They are inclined to procrastinate with their cases and while they are hesitating and procrastinating, the patient decides for himself to employ another physician. The young physician must come to grips with himself at the very beginning of his medical career with regard to indecision and timidity. When he sees a job to do, that he knows he is qualified to do, he should not, under any circumstances, ever allow himself to show the "white feather" and run away. I have always felt in my medical work, if I ran away from something once, I was on a fair way to becoming lost. I well remember the fears and misgivings which I had in my first forceps case. I think no soldier in the trenches, waiting for the command to go "over the top" ever had any more shivers and shakes than I did while listening to the agony of a labor which refused to end. The mother kept crying out: "Oh, Doctor, how long have I got to suffer can't you do something to help me?" The father said: "Well, Doc, don't you think this has gone on about long enough? When our first baby was born the doctor didn't let her suffer like this, but he gave her chloroform and took the baby.” Of course, this was all very encouraging to me-however, I tried to explain to both of them how much better it was to let the labor terminate in a natural way, if such a thing were possible, that there would be much less danger of injury to the baby itself and the chances of avoiding a tear in the mother would be much better. Both the mother and father, however, did not seem to be in a state of mind where these arguments made any great impression upon them. I saw that the job had to be done and that it was up to me to do it. Strange to relate— when I made up my mind that I was going to do it—or bust-my fears all disapeared and in their place there came a confidence and joy-a confidence that I was going to do this and do it as it ought to be done, and a joy that I had overcome my fear, not only for this case, but for any other forceps case that I might be called upon to officiate at in the future. I think one of the most difficult jobs that I ever attempted was that of washing the baby. When your turn comes to wash your first baby just remember what I have said about it-the proverbial slipperiness of a greased pig has nothing on a new-born baby; the way that baby dived between my legs, over my knees and from one side to another, was something unbelievable. Many of you will doubtless experience the |