honour, that would be a sad pity! such fine meadows, and such corn! But cannot you sell the produce, as before? for corn and hay are not luxuries."-" True," replied the landlord, "but I am now living on the produce of less than half my estate; and why take the trouble to cultivate more? for since there are no luxuries to purchase, I want no more money than to pay my labourers, and buy the homely clothes I and my family are obliged to wear. Half the produce of my land will be quite sufficient for these purposes.' ears. Poor John was now reduced to despair. The cries of distress from people thrown out of work every where assailed his He knew not where to hide his shame and mortification till the eventful week had expired, when he hastened to the Fairy, threw himself on his knees, and implored her to reverse the fatal decree, and to bring back things to what they had been before. The light wand once more waved in the air, but in a direction opposite to that in which it before moved; and immediately the stately mansion rose from the lowly cottage; the heavy teams began to prance and snort, and shook their clumsy harness till they became elegant trappings but most of all was it delightful to see the turned-off workmen running to their looms and their spindles; the young girls and old women enchanted to regain possession of their lost lace-cushions, on which they depended for a livelihood; and every thing offering a prospect of wealth and happiness, compared to the week of misery they had passed through. John grew wise by this lesson; and, whenever any one complained of the hardness of the times, and laid it to the expenses of the rich, took upon him to prove that the poor were gainers, not losers, by luxuries; and when argument failed to convince his hearers, he related his wonderful tale. [From "John Hopkins's Notions on Political Economy."] THE PARISH DOCTOR. THE RHEUMATISM. ONE day when the Doctor had just returned from Bodley, he was told that Nanny Harston had been up, and left word that Adam would be glad to see him, as he had got a sharp touch of the rheumatize. Humph! said he, a profitable employment to attend Adam -or at Harston, who can't pay a man for his advice, which is bad enough; and won't follow it-which is worse still;least, more provoking! Such was the good Doctor's grumble, when he found that, tired and hungry as he was, he must still either put off his dinner, or make up his mind to go out again after it. To do him justice, however, it must be said, that he never omitted to do a kind action, though he often grumbled at himself for being such a fool-to use his own language. It was a bitter cold day, and he found Adam aching all over. "Well, Adam, how long has this been going on?" said the Doctor. 4.-Why it was only last night that the pain began to be terrible. I never had such pain.-I was obliged to get right out of bed; for lie still, I couldn't, and I thought I should ha' gone out o' my senses. "No fear o' that, Adam"-said the Doctor: "that time's gone by with you." A.-Sir? D.-Never mind: but you had been poorly, I suppose, before that. A.-Why yes; a few days:-it was Tuesday, I think-Oh! D.-Aye-it's sharp, Adam. Come, I must have a little blood from you. You've got some hot water, I see, Nanny. Fetch me a bason now, and some broad tape. A.-No, no, Sir-don't take any blood away, I'm no friend to the lancet. D.-Never mind that, the lancet will be a friend to you, I'll promise you. A.—No, Doctor, I won't be bled. I never knew any good come o' bleeding. D.-Why how's that, Adam? did'nt any good come of it to your neighbour, Richard Heaton? A.-Why, we did think he was a doomed man, to be sure; but Mr. Price said, if you'd taken away half an ounce more, you'd ha' killed him. D.-Pooh, man! Tell Mr. Price next time that I didn't take away half an ounce more, and so managed to get the man well, instead of killing him. A succession of violent twinges made Adam consent to lose some blood; and he made but a poor fight against the Doctor's purgatives, with which the bleeding was followed up. The fever was considerably lessened by the next day; but it was necessary to take away a little more blood: and by this loss of blood and the action of several purgatives, amongst which the good old black draught was not forgotten, the fever was pretty well got under. The pain was still very severe; but it was considerably lessened, after the eighth or ninth day, by the wine of meadow-saffron (colchicum). One day when Adam was getting well, the Doctor was giving him some advice, as to the best way of guarding against rheumatism for the time to come; and the following dialogue took place between them. D. Come now, Adam, can you tell me at all how you came to get this Rheumatism? Had you been wet through, or out long in the wet any day a little before it came on? A.-Why, yes, Sir, there was one day that I did get terribly wet. I walked over to my poor William's D.-What, all the way to Little Bramford ? A. Yes, Sir;—it was a long way to be sure, but I and my good woman had been so low like about him how to raise this money to pay his fine I'm sure I don't know: and if I don't, I'm sure he doesn't. I'm afraid he must go to prison. D.-Serve him right too,-what business had he to strike Henry Parsons, because he asked him to pay for the cow he had run over? A.-But that Parsons is such an aggravating fellow; and as to the cow, why didn't it get out o' the way? There it stood right in the middle o' the road, though it must have seen the cart would be upon it. They talk of foolish animals, but for my part I think no animal is so stupid and obstinate as a cow : there it stands when you're right upon it with your wheel tucking in its tail and rounding its back, and not an inch will it stir out of your road. One would think it likes to be hurt; for hurt it must be, if a man hasn't the patience of Job. D.-Well Adam, I think your poor William will never drive over a cow that's a bigger fool than himself. A.-Why how so, Sir? one's obliged to take words from you, that one would not put up with from any body else. D.-Aye, when a man's cured you of your rheumatism, Adam, you must let him tell you a home truth or two in his own words: especially if you don't mean to pay him-very soon. Adam grinned. A-Now you call a beast a fool for not getting out o' the way when it has time enough, and sees it will be hurt if it does not. And can't your William see that idleness will hurt him, and at last ruin him? nay can't he see, or at least might not he see, that idleness and drunkenness and rioting will be certainly followed by everlasting pain in another world?-a world that may be upon us as quickly as William's wheel was upon Parsons's cow. If it is folly, not to get out of the way of an evil we know is sure to come upon us if we stay where we are, it's surely as great folly in a man as in a beast. And so I think William needn't say any more about cows. Old Nanny put the corner of her apron to her eyes. D. Well, but Adam-said the Doctor, we're to see whether you will be wise enough to keep out of the way of Rheumatism, or not. So you were in very low spirits, and tired yourself out by a long walk, and got wet through;-Wellyou didn't change your things, I suppose? A.-Change, bless you, no Sir: how could I change? D.-Well-what next? you were hungry enough I reckon, when you got to Bramford. A. Pretty well, for that Sir, I dare say. D. And what did William's larder supply that day? eh, was it well stocked? 4.-Humph-not much o' that: but he got me enough of sommut. I'd a good slice o' bacon, and plenty o' bread and cheese; and he would send out, poor fellow, for some beer for us. D. And what drink besides beer, Adam? : A. Besides beer? why, we'd a little gin perhaps he said I must take sommut to keep the cold out. D.-Keep the cold out! It will make you hot enough one day, if you go on drinking gin. Just remember that drunkards are shut out by name from the Kingdom of Heaven. Nanny sighed. D. And did you spend a pleasant chatty evening? Oh, no, I forgot: you had to talk about raising money for paying the fine. Now didn't it come into your wise heads, that the money you paid for ale and gin might have done something towards it? A.-Why I tell'd him, I thought it might; but he said, poor fellow, that he'd never let his old father go home without a good bellyful for all the Parsonses in the world. D.—A good son and a wise! And did you walk back again the same night. A. Yes, I did: but it was not very pleasant. However, I got a nap first, though to be sure it was not a very comfortable one, for the windows wern't very weather-tight, I believe; -and I was deadly cold when I woke up. However a glass o' sommut warm set me up again, and I made the best of a bad business and started home about eight o'clock. Aye," said Nanny, "and tired and miserable enough I was before you got home." D.—Well, Adam—I believe I've a little book, written by a physician, in my pocket; and I think you'll find, that if you'd tried to get the Rheumatism, you could not have done more towards it than you did that night. I pulled out the book, and read to him the following passage. * "If we were required to call up in our minds a case, in which such causes should have all the assistance possible afforded to them in producing disease, we should suppose a man, whose mind had been worn out by inquietude, whose bodily powers had been exhausted by fatigue, to make a hearty meal of food that is difficultly digested, and to fall asleep exposed to a current of air, having had his clothes wetted by the rain, to which we would suppose him to have been previously exposed." A.-No-no: come, come Sir, you're just making that to suit me. D.-Nay, look A.-No, I'm no scholar myself: but Nanny can read; you forget her, Sir. But Nanny confirmed the Doctor's statement. D.-Now for the future, Adam-take regular, but not violent exercise: don't eat too heartily: never take a glass too much; or rather stop short by two or three glasses of what you would call enough: and be sure to wear a good flannel waistcoat with sleeves to it next your skin: but don't sleep in it. I would tell you to sponge your body all over with cold water every day, if I thought there was any chance of your following my advice. Remember too, never to stand still or sit down in wet things. Good night, Adam. Good night, Nanny. A.-I wish you good night, Sir, and thank you, said Adam. "Aye, thank you kindly, Sir," added Nanny. * Magazine of Health, No. 7. p. 200. T |