SLAPOGRAMS The most ambitious man is but a little mouse, and the world a cheese. At life's end it requires a microscope to find tooth-marks—and seldom are they found. We all admire the great man in medicine, but-when the doctor himself is sick, what a devil of a time he has ! Fifty-seven varieties of diagnosis and no relief. Looking backward I can classify men into three classes, gentlemen friends of mine, enemies and neuters. Of the first I am proud, to the second I am reconciled, but heavens! how ashamed I am of the third. The man who says that forty-five is the prime of life is a liar and a hypocrite. It is "prime" like a cheese that is a little too bad to eat and a little too good to throw away. Doctors would be human like other fellows-if they could. But folks won't let 'em and the ossification A man either works too much and plays too little or the other way round. There being no happy medium, I would follow my natural instincts and loaf a lot more -if I could do it all over again. I once heard a great doctor say publicly that he never in his life had read a novel or attended the opera. He had been fooling himself-and us-all the while. He hadn't lived, that's all. Envy that elads to emulation is not bad, but jealousy centers of their spines never develop. That's why every-well, why be jealous of anybody? body steps on us. Ex-Toper: "Say, Doc., gim-me some o' that red rouge powder what women smear on their cheeks! My nose is gettin' so ghastly pale sinc: the prohibition clean-up, it frightens me most out of my wits!" A CAMP PRISONER'S PSYCHOSIS* JULY, 1916, Crefeld Camp. No. 2. From Sir Gregory Squills to Mrs. B. DEAR MADAM: I have received your letter of the third inst, and regret to have to say that my consulting hours are completely engaged for the next three weeks. I have, however, made a note of your request and will communicate with you again when I have been able to arrange a date. I am deeply grieved at the delay, and would suggest that you write down the particulars of your son's symptoms and forward them to me. I should then be able to conYours faithfully, sider the case in advance. GREGORY SQUILLS. No. 3. From Mrs. B. to Sir Gregory Squills. DEAR SIR: I have received your letter of the fourth inst. and I am greatly disappointed that you cannot see my son earlier. As both my husband and I have the greatest faith in your judgment and powers, we have decided to wait as patiently as possible. In the meantime I shall attempt to describe my son's symptoms. He has been with us now for a week and so far has shown no signs of recognizing either his father or me. He treats us with marked respect but very seldom speaks, and when he does so, it is in some language which neither of us understand. He is suspicious of his food, and seems to prefer sardines to any other form of nourishment. I have met him once or twice in the evening on his way to his bedroom, wearing a large great-coat, the pockets of which were obviously full. The housemaid assures me that she finds empty bottles under his bed every morning. He takes a strange interest in the cellar, the approach to which he often watches for hours at a time, while pretending to do something else. He some *Copied from "Prisoners' Pie-L'Assiette sans Beurre." No. 2. CONTRIBUTOR'S NOTE: Patient looks upon parents as Hun officers, watches cellar to get an opportunity to dig a tunnel, regards service bell as bell for roll call, etc. times enters it in a furtive manner when he thinks none is look ing, but I have never noticed that he brought anything out. The butler, however, says that he has lately remarked some loose bricks in the floor, which had never attracted his attention before. So. The most strange and disturbing thing of all, however, is the extraordinary effect produced upon him by the servants' breakfast and supper bell, which rings daily at 8 a. m. and 9 p. m. The wettest and coldest morning, the darkest and most stormy night, find him rushing out of the front door on the last sound of the bell. Arrived in front of the house, he stands uneasily about on the lawn as if waiting for someone or something. For some time we had the greatest difficulty in persuading him to come in again, until one day, quite by accident, we discovered a quick and effective method. That morning about 8:15 he was standing outside in the pouring rain, and I was at my window imploring him to come in. The gardener, who had been rolling the drive, noticed him and came up to consult him on some small matter, touching his hat as he did My son instantly touched his in return, and rushed into the house. I at once told my husband what had happened and ever since then we have copied the behavior of the gardener with the most satisfactory results. We have, of course, tried the experiment of not having the bell ring at all, but this produced the most disturbing effect upon the poor lad, who remained in the hall listening for it for hours evidently in great mental distress. The bell, therefore, now rings as usual. There is one more fact I ought to mention. My son cannot be persuaded to leave the grounds for the shortest walk without first calling on the lodge keeper and handing him his photograph, a copy of which he always carries in his pocket at other times. On his return he invariably stops at the lodge and asks to have his photo again. These briefly are the eccentricities which have caused us so much anxiety. Of course, there are other small habits which he has developed, but they are less striking and less alarming. What I have described above happens every day with great regularity. I entreat you to give his case your closest attention and to arrange an appointment for him at the earliest possible date. Yours faithfully, AMELIA B. No. 4. From Sir Gregory Squills to Mrs. B. DEAR MADAM: I have received your letter giving me some details of your son's symptoms. Unhappily his case is not unique. I have been examining patients afflicted in much the same manner at the rate of sixty a day for the last week, and I fear there is little I can do to effect an immediate cure. You must simply be patient and try to break him of his habits one by one, but always gently and by persuasion. Never attempt to insist forcibly on anything. Your husband might try the experiment of going to meet him one morning at 8 a. m. with a large sheet of typewritten matter in his hand. He should stand about twenty yards from the boy and read out in a loud voice a notice to the effect that he may in future leave the grounds without giving the lodge keeper his photo. If this produces the desired result, the experiment may be tried with other habits. But I cannot caution you too strongly against proceeding in a hurry. Nature aided by common sense is the best cure |