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Updated: May 10, 2025
What's the matter with you, said the Doctor? jist that way, without even passing the time o' day with him What's the matter with you? said he. Why, says Alden, I presume I have the Dyspepsy. Ah! said he, I see; a Yankee swallowed more dollars and cents than he can digest I am an American citizen, says Alden, with great dignity, I am Secretary to our Legation at the Court of St. James.
Fust thing is a new set of teeth, you done gummed yourself into dyspepsy and gineral cantankerousness, and then I 'm sot on taking you to my house to visit a month and eat good victuals and git your stummick opened up whar it done growed together, and your mind unj'inted, and your sperrits limbered similar. And straightway he sont for a tooth-dentist, that tuck a pictur' of my gums in wax then and thar.
The land in our far west, it is generally allowed, can't be no better; what you plant is sure to grow and yield well, and food is so cheap you can live there for half nothin'. But it don't agree with us New England folks; we don't enjoy good health there; and what in the world is the use of food, if you have such an etarnal dyspepsy you can't digest it?
"Set a dog to mind a basket of meat when his chops is a-waterin' fer it! Set a kingfisher to take keer of a fish-pond! Set a cat to raisin' your orphan chickens on the bottle! Set a spider to nuss a fly sick with dyspepsy from eatin' too much molasses! I'd ruther trust a hen-hawk with a flock of patridges than to trust Betsey Malcolm with your affairs.
"You should hev prayed," cried old Deacon Towser, springing to his feet; "prayed long an' earnest." "Deacon," said Joe Digg, "I've heerd of your dyspepsy for nigh on to twenty year; did prayin' ever comfort your stomach?" The whole audience indulged in a profane laugh, and the good deacon was suddenly hauled down by his wife.
"Well? oh, bless you! no, dearie! She was terrible sick! that was why she died. Oh, my, yes! She had dyspepsy right along, suffered everything with it, yet 'twas croup that got her at last. Ah! there's never any child knows when croup 'll get her; girl NOR boy!" Hildegarde began to feel as if she must scream, or stamp her foot, or do some other impossible thing. "Mrs.
"Yes; it's me," said Minty, "and Creation knows it's time I DID come, to keep that boy from ruinin' us with his airs and conceits." "Did ye bring over any o' that fever mixter?" "No. Bradley sez you're loading yerself up with so much o' that bitter bark kuinine they call it over there that you'll lift the ruff off your head next. He allows ye ain't got no ague; it's jest wind and dyspepsy.
Slick declined any share in the bottle of wine, he said he was dyspeptic; and a glass or two soon convinced me, that it was likely to produce in me something worse than dyspepsy. It was speedily removed and we drew up to the fire.
"Is it any wonder that the galls are thin, and pale, and delicate, and are so languid, they look as if they were givin' themselves airs, when all they want is air? or that the men complain of dyspepsy, and look hollow and unhealthy, having neither cheeks, stomach, nor thighs, and have to take bitters to get an appetite for their food, and pickles and red pepper to digest it?
Don't leave them 'tatoes in that water so long! Why, child o' grace, don't you know yet, and you keepin' tavern, that soon's a potato is cooked it ought to be snatched out the pot and set to steamin', to get dry? Soggy potatoes gives you the dyspepsy and that's a disease I ain't sufferin' to catch. It makes folks so cross."
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