A gentleman, knowing the parties in his boyhood, rehearsed to me the
following anecdote:--
Old Dr. Gallup, of ----, N. H., was an excellent physician, whose failing
lay in his propensity to imbibe more spirits then he could carry off.
"Are you drunk, or sober?" was no unusual question, put by those requiring
his services, before permitting the old doctor to prescribe.
[Illustration: "PUMPING" AN OLD LADY.]
[Illustration: A DANGEROUS PRESCRIPTION.]
"Sober as a judge. What--hic--do you want?" he would reply.
Mr. B., who had been a long time confined to his house, under the care of
an old fogy doctor, one of the "Gods of Medicine," with whom all knowledge
remains, and with whom all knowledge dies, after taking nearly all the
drugs contained in his Materia Medica, decided to change, and sent for Dr.
Gallup.
"Are you drunk, or sober, doctor?" was the first salutation.
"Sober as a judge. What's wanted?" was the reply, omitting the "hic."
"Can you cure me? I've been blistered and parboiled, puked and physicked,
bled in vein and pocket for the last three months. Now, can you cure me?"
Gallup looked over the case, and the medicine left by the other doctor,
threw the latter all out of the window, ordered a nourishing diet, told
Mr. B. to take no more drugs, took his fee, and left. Mr. B. recovered
without another visit.
[Illustration]