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Updated: May 18, 2025
"There are our incurables, but they are not violent; incurables never are! Poor Mademoiselle! She has just been conveyed to this ward," said the doctor, opening the door of the first cell on the right at the head of the stairs and admitting Traverse at once into the presence of the beautiful, black-haired, snow-faced woman, who had so much interested him.
He was removed to the Home for Incurables at Broomhill, Kirkintilloch, where he died on January 2, 1877, and was interred in the Old Aisle Cemetery. He was a widower, and had two children, but they were said to be abroad at the time, the son in America and the daughter on the Continent.
"This is a list of the poor people in Cranby, in whom Miss Millet has been accustomed to take special interest. The first on the list is old Susan Jenkins." "My dear old woman, who has been bedridden so long, and in such terrible poverty?" asked Miss Millet. "The same," answered Jeff. "Captain Millet has succeeded in getting her admission into the hospital for incurables.
Does not Punch speak of the titled lady, eager to win a guinea prize, who gave seven volumes of Carlyle's works to seven upper servants, and asked each to search one to find a certain quotation?" "Oh," said Mrs. Watts, "I don't mean for the incurables to amuse themselves with. I mean for the benefit of the home."
The contagious ward always escaped by virtue of its own power of self-defense; but the shaft started at the door of the surgical ward and went widening along through the medical and the convalescent until it reached the incurables at an angle of indefinite radiation.
H. considered it a very marked answer to prayer, inasmuch as it was quite difficult to find a family who wanted a man as well as woman servant; and that particular family was, of all others, the least likely to make such an arrangement! For the "Faith Home for Incurables" Mr. H. received, one day, five dollars. A barrel of flour was terribly needed.
We glimpsed along among the old marbles, Elgin and others, which are esteemed such treasures of art; the oddest fragments, many of them smashed by their fall from high places, or by being pounded to pieces by barbarians, or gnawed away by time; the surface roughened by being rained upon for thousands of years; almost always a nose knocked off; sometimes a headless form; a great deficiency of feet and hands, poor, maimed veterans in this hospital of incurables.
Apparently it was to free himself from similar complaints that he spoke thus; and, in fact, he had no more afterwards. Another sample: Madame de Cheverny, become a widow, had retired to the Incurables. Her place of governess of the daughters of M. le Duc d'Orleans had been given to Madame de Conflans.
Like all incurables, the Baron clutched at everything that seemed at all hopeful; he promised himself that he would have Lucien watched by some one besides Louchard and his men Louchard, the sharpest commercial detective in Paris to whom he had applied about a fortnight since.
But he is really not in the least like Poe. Poe's horrors are nearly all unreal fantasies, that vaguely haunt our minds like the shadow of a dream. Andreev is a realist, like his predecessors and contemporaries. His style is always concrete and definite, always filled with the sense of fact. There is almost something scientific in his collection of incurables.
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