the autobiography of a quack-第1部分

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The　Autobiography　of　a　Quack

S。　Weir　Mitchell；　MD；　LLD





THE　AUTOBIOGRAPHY　OF　A　QUACK
AND
THE　CASE　OF　GEORGE　DEDLOW

BY
S。　WEIR　MITCHELL；　M。D。；
LL。D。　HARVARD　AND　EDINBURGH




CONTENTS

THE　AUTOBIOGRAPHY　OF　A　QUACK　
THE　CASE　OF　GEORGE　DEDLOW




INTRODUCTION


Both　of　the　tales　in　this　little　volume　appeared　originally　in　the　‘‘Atlantic　Monthly''　as　anonymous　contributions。　I　owe　to　the　present　owners　of　that　journal　permission　to　use　them。　‘‘The　Autobiography　of　a　Quack　''　has　been　recast　with　large　additions。

‘‘The　Case　of　George　Dedlow''　was　not　written　with　any　intention　that　it　should　appear　in　print。　I　lent　the　manuscript　to　the　Rev。　Dr。　Furness　and　forgot　it。　This　gentleman　sent　it　to　the　Rev。　Edward　Everett　Hale。　He；　presuming；　I　fancy；　that　every　one　desired　to　appear　in　the　‘‘Atlantic；''　offered　it　to　that　journal。　To　my　surprise；　soon　afterwards　I　received　a　proof　and　a　check。　The　story　was　inserted　as　a　leading　article　without　my　name。　It　was　at　once　accepted　by　many　as　the　description　of　a　real　case。　Money　was　collected　in　several　places　to　assist　the　unfortunate　man；　and　benevolent　persons　went　to　the　‘‘Stump　Hospital；''　in　Philadelphia；　to　see　the　sufferer　and　to　offer　him　aid。　The　spiritual　incident　at　the　end　of　the　story　was　received　with　joy　by　the　spiritualists　as　a　valuable　proof　of　the　truth　of　their　beliefs。　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　S。　WEIR　MITCHELL



THE　AUTOBIOGRAPHY　OF　A　QUACK

At　this　present　moment　of　time　I　am　what　the　doctors　call　an　interesting　case；　and　am　to　be　found　in　bed　No。　10；　Ward　11；　Massachusetts　General　Hospital。　I　am　told　that　I　have　what　is　called　Addison's　disease；　and　that　it　is　this　pleasing　malady　which　causes　me　to　be　covered　with　large　blotches　of　a　dark　mulatto　tint。　However；　it　is　a　rather　grim　subject　to　joke　about；　because；　if　I　believed　the　doctor　who　comes　around　every　day；　and　thumps　me；　and　listens　to　my　chest　with　as　much　pleasure　as　if　I　were　music　all　throughI　say；　if　I　really　believed　him；　I　should　suppose　I　was　going　to　die。　The　fact　is；　I　don't　believe　him　at　all。　Some　of　these　days　I　shall　take　a　turn　and　get　about　again；　but　meanwhile　it　is　rather　dull　for　a　stirring；　active　person　like　me　to　have　to　lie　still　and　watch　myself　getting　big　brown　and　yellow　spots　all　over　me；　like　a　map　that　has　taken　to　growing。

The　man　on　my　right　has　consumption　smells　of　cod…liver　oil；　and　coughs　all　night。　The　man　on　my　left　is　a　down…easter　with　a　liver　which　has　struck　work；　looks　like　a　human　pumpkin；　and　how　he　contrives　to　whittle　jackstraws　all　day；　and　eat　as　he　does；　I　can't　understand。　I　have　tried　reading　and　tried　whittling；　but　they　don't　either　of　them　satisfy　me；　so　that　yesterday　I　concluded　to　ask　the　doctor　if　he　couldn't　suggest　some　other　amusement。

I　waited　until　he　had　gone　through　the　ward；　and　then　seized　my　chance；　and　asked　him　to　stop　a　moment。

‘‘Well；　my　man；''　said　he；　‘‘what　do　you　want！''

I　thought　him　rather　disrespectful；　but　I　replied；　‘‘Something　to　do；　doctor。''

He　thought　a　little；　and　then　said：　‘‘I'll　tell　you　what　to　do。　I　think　if　you　were　to　write　out　a　plain　account　of　your　life　it　would　be　pretty　well　worth　reading。　If　half　of　what　you　told　me　last　week　be　true；　you　must　be　about　as　clever　a　scamp　as　there　is　to　be　met　with。　I　suppose　you　would　just　as　lief　put　it　on　paper　as　talk　it。''

‘‘Pretty　nearly；''　said　I。　‘‘I　think　I　will　try　it；　doctor。''

After　he　left　I　lay　awhile　thinking　over　the　matter。　I　knew　well　that　I　was　what　the　world　calls　a　scamp；　and　I　knew　also　that　I　had　got　little　good　out　of　the　fact。　If　a　man　is　what　people　call　virtuous；　and　fails　in　life；　he　gets　credit　at　least　for　the　virtue；　but　when　a　man　is　aiswell；　one　of　liberal　views；　and　breaks　down；　somehow　or　other　people　don't　credit　him　with　even　the　intelligence　he　has　put　into　the　business。　This　I　call　hard。　If　I　did　not　recall　with　satisfaction　the　energy　and　skill　with　which　I　did　my　work；　I　should　be　nothing　but　disgusted　at　the　melancholy　spectacle　of　my　failure。　I　suppose　that　I　shall　at　least　find　occupation　in　reviewing　all　this；　and　I　think；　therefore；　for　my　own　satisfaction；　I　shall　try　to　amuse　my　convalescence　by　writing　a　plain；　straightforward　account　of　the　life　I　have　led；　and　the　various　devices　by　which　I　have　sought　to　get　my　share　of　the　money　of　my　countrymen。　It　does　appear　to　me　that　I　have　had　no　end　of　bad　luck。

As　no　one　will　ever　see　these　pages；　I　find　it　　pleasant　to　recall　for　my　own　satisfaction　the　fact　that　I　am　really　a　very　remarkable　man。　I　am；　or　rather　I　was；　very　good…looking；　five　feet　eleven；　with　a　lot　of　curly　red　hair；　and　blue　eyes。　I　am　left…handed；　which　is　another　unusual　thing。　My　hands　have　often　been　noticed。　I　get　them　from　my　mother；　who　was　a　Fishbourne；　and　a　lady。　As　for　my　father；　he　was　rather　common。　He　was　a　little　man；　red　and　round　like　an　apple；　but　very　strong；　for　a　reason　I　shall　come　to　presently。　The　family　must　have　had　a　pious　liking　for　Bible　names；　because　he　was　called　Zebulon；　my　sister　Peninnah；　and　I　Ezra；　which　is　not　a　name　for　a　gentleman。　At　one　time　I　thought　of　changing　it；　but　I　got　over　it　by　signing　myself　‘‘E。　Sanderaft。''

Where　my　father　was　born　I　do　not　know；　except　that　it　was　somewhere　in　New　Jersey；　for　I　remember　that　he　was　once　angry　because　a　man　called　him　a　Jersey　Spaniard。　I　am　not　much　concerned　to　write　about　my　people；　because　I　soon　got　above　their　level；　and　as　to　my　mother；　she　died　when　I　was　an　infant。　I　get　my　manners；　which　are　rather　remarkable；　from　her。

My　aunt；　Rachel　Sanderaft；　who　kept　house　for　us；　was　a　queer　character。　She　　had　a　snug　little　property；　about　seven　thousand　dollars。　An　old　aunt　left　her　the　money　because　she　was　stone…deaf。　As　this　defect　came　upon　her　after　she　grew　up；　she　still　kept　her　voice。　This　woman　was　the　cause　of　some　of　my　ill　luck　in　life；　and　I　hope　she　is　uncomfortable；　wherever　she　is。　I　think　with　satisfaction　that　I　helped　to　make　her　life　uneasy　when　I　was　young；　and　worse　later　on。　She　gave　away　to　the　idle　poor　some　of　her　small　income；　and　hid　the　rest；　like　a　magpie；　in　her　Bible　or　rolled　in　her　stockings；　or　in　even　queerer　places。　The　worst　of　her　was　that　she　could　tell　what　people　said　by　looking　at　their　lips；　this　I　hated。　But　as　I　grew　and　became　intelligent；　her　ways　of　hiding　her　money　proved　useful；　to　me　at　least。　As　to　Peninnah；　she　was　nothing　special　until　she　suddenly　bloomed　out　into　a　rather　stout；　pretty　girl；　took　to　ribbons；　and　liked　what　she　called　‘‘keeping　company。''　She　ran　errands　for　every　one；　waited　on　my　aunt；　and　thought　I　was　a　wonderful　personas　indeed　I　was。　I　never　could　understand　her　fondness　for　helping　everybody。　A　fellow　has　got　himself　to　think　about；　and　that　is　quite　enough。　I　was　told　pretty　often　that　I　was　the　most　　selfish　boy　alive。　But；　then；　I　am　an　unusual　person；　and　there　are　several　names　for　things。

My　father　kept　a　small　shop　for　the　sale　of　legal　stationery　and　the　like；　on　Fifth　street　north　of　Chestnut。　But　his　chief　interest　in　life　lay　in　the　bell…ringing　of　Christ　Church。　He　was　leader；　or　No。　1；　and　the　whole　business　was　in　the　hands　of　a　kind　of　guild　which　is　nearly　as　old　as　the　church。　I　used　to　hear　more　of　it　than　I　liked；　because　my　father　talked　of　nothing　else。　But　I　do　not　mean　to　bore　myself　writing　of　bells。　I　heard　too　much　about　‘‘back　shake；''　‘‘raising　in　peal；''　‘‘scales；''　and　‘‘touches；''　and　the　Lord　knows　what。

My　earliest　remembrance　is　of　sitting　on　my　father's　shoulder　when　he　led　off　the　ringers。　He　was　very　strong；　as　I　said；　by　reason　of　this　exercise。　With　one　foot　caught　in　a　loop　of　leather　nailed　to　the　floor；　he　would　begin　to　pull　No。　1；　and　by　and　by　the　whole　peal　would　be　swinging；　and　he　going　up　and　down；　to　my　joy；　I　used　to　feel　as　if　it　was　I　that　was　making　the　great　noise　that　rang　out　all　over　the　town。　My　familiar　acquaintance　with　the　old　church　and　its　lumber…rooms；　where　were　stored　the　　dusty　arms　of　William　and　Mary　and　George　II。；　proved　of　use　in　my　later　days。

My　father　had　a　strong　belief　in　my　talents；　and　I　do　not　think　he　was　mistaken。　As　he　was　quite　uneducated；　he　determined　that　I　should　not　be。　He　had　saved　enough　to　send　me　to　Princeton　College；　and　when　I　was　about　fifteen　I　was　set　free　from　the　public　schools。　I　never　liked　them。　The　last　I　was　at　was　the　high　school。　As　I　had　to　come　down…town　to　get　home；　we　used　to　meet　on　Arch　street　the　boys　from　the　grammar…school　of　the　university；　and　there　were　fights　every　week。　In　winter　these　were　most　frequent；　because　of　the　snow…　balling。　A　fellow　had　to　take　his　share　or　be　marked　as　a　deserter。　I　never　saw　any　personal　good　to　be　had　out　of　a　fight；　but　it　was　better　to　fight　than　to　be　cobbed。　That　means　that　two　fellows　hold　you；　and　the　other　fellows　kick　you　with　their　bent　knees。　It　hurts。

I　find　just　here　that　I　am　describing　a　thing　as　if　I　were　writing　for　some　other　people　to　see。　I　may　as　well　go　on　that　way。　After　all；　a　man　never　can　quite　stand　off　and　look　at　himself　as　if　he　was　the　only　person　concerned。　He　must　have　an　audience；　　or　make　believe　to　have　one；　even　if　it　is　only　himself。　Nor；　on　the　whole；　should　I　be　unwilling；　if　it