Uncle Peter is one of the gamest little chunks of humanity that
ever looked the world in the eye, but when he heard the edict put
forth by Doctor Osler the old man went overboard with a splash.
He was under water a long time.
He thought the Bogey Man had him for sure.
Uncle Peter felt that it would no longer be possible for him to
pass a drug store without some young fellow rushing out with a
handkerchief full of chloroform and yelling, "Here, you old
chestnut! here's where you get it in the nose!"
In the dark watches of the night Uncle Peter used to wake up
covered with cold perspiration, because he had dreamed that Doc
Osler was pounding him on the bald spot with a baseball bat after
having poured hair dye all over his breakfast food.
At last Uncle Peter got so nervous I advised him to write to the
Doctor.
"Ask him if he won't commute your sentence because you live in the
country and are a commuter," I suggested.
The doctor replied to Uncle Peter at once and I will try to
translate his letter from Johns Hopkins into pure English, as near
as I can remember:
JOHNS HOPKINS, To-day.
Dear Uncle Peter:--When I cut loose with the observation that men
were all in at 40 and _rauss mittim_ at 60 I kept several
exceptions up my sleeve.
The exceptions include you, Uncle Peter, and myself also.
It could not apply in your case, Uncle Peter, because I have known
you since we lived together in Baltimore many moons ago, and I
realize that the years have only improved you, Uncle Peter, and
that to-day you are a bigger shine than you ever were.
One point about my observation which seems to have escaped the eyes
of the general public, but which you suggest so delicately in your
letter, Uncle Peter, will be found in the beautiful words of the
poet who says:
Some advertisement now and then
Is needed by the greatest men!
Don't mention it, Uncle Peter, for what I tell you is confidential,
but do you know that my little bunch of remarks, which cost me
nothing anyway because I was invited to the banquet, have given me
more widespread advertisement than Andy Carnegie can get for
eighteen public libraries?
You know, Uncle Peter, there is nothing in the world so easy to
make stand up on its hind legs as the general public if you just go
after it right.
But the trick is, Uncle Peter, to know what to say and when to say
it.
Look at my case and then tell me if it wasn't up to me to emit a
rave.
There I was, just about to leave my native land to go to Oxford and
become the squeegee professor in the Knowledge Factory and be all
swallowed up in the London fog, but nobody seemed to miss me before
I went away.
I began to feel lost, lonely and forgotten like a vice-president of
the United States.
Then came the banquet, Uncle Peter, and like a flash the inspiration
came to me and I arose in my seat and said, "Ladies and gentlemen,
after a man reaches the age of 40 he is a seldom-happener, and after
he gets to the age of 60 he is a dead rabbit and it's the woods for
his."
What was the result, Uncle Peter?
Every man in the world felt that I was his personal insult.
Every man _over_ 40 listened to what I said and began to yell for
the police; and every man _under_ 40 realized that he would be
_over_ 40 some day, so he began to look for a rock to throw at me.