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Updated: May 7, 2025
Pretty much made up my mind about your complaint coming along, madam, having learned from your lad here something of your troubles and fright on losing your home. And I was right, I see. It is neuralgy decidedly a neuralgy." "What is that, doctor?" "Always happy to explain, madam, so as to bring my meaning within the comprehension of common minds. Neuralgy madam, is a derangement of the nerves.
"It's the weather. Have them send you up a pot of black tea." "When you've got neuralgy over your right eye," observed Sadie Corn grimly, "there's just one thing helps that is to crawl into bed in a flannel nightgown, with the side of your face resting on the red rubber bosom of a hot-water bottle. And I can't do it; so let's talk about something cheerful. Seen Jo to-day?"
Here the widow joined in the conversation, evidently under the impression that nothing had been said since she last spoke. Continuing her favorable comments on the weather she observed that she was glad there was so little fog, because fog was hard for folks with "neuralgy pains."
Moreover, he observed that the master was looking "peartish," and hoped he had got over the "neuralgy" and "rheumatiz." He himself had been troubled with a dumb "ager" since last conference. But he had learned to "rastle and pray." Pausing a moment to enable the master to write his certain method of curing the dumb "ager" upon the book and volume of his brain, Mr.
They gave one another medical advice and prescriptions of "roots and yarbs" for their "rheumatiz," "neuralgy," and "tissick;" and some took snuff together, while an ancient dame smoked a quiet pipe.
"Don't you all trouble 'bout my neuralgy," she returned with resigned exasperation as she stood up to pour the coffee out of the large tin boiler. "It's mine, an' I've borne worse things, I reckon, which ain't sayin' that 'tain't near to takin' my head off."
As by a miracle all the harsh, sullen lines in the girl's face vanished, to be replaced by a lovely compassion. "Your neuralgy again, dearie?" she asked in pretty concern. Sadie sniffed long and audibly at the peppermint bottle. "If you ask me I think there's some imp inside of my head trying to push my right eye out with his thumb. Anyway it feels like that." "Poor old dear!" breathed Julia.
"You ain't much on looks," she remarked as she drew back to survey him, "but you've got as peart a face as I ever seed. I reckon you'll be plenty handsome for a man. I was al'ays kind of set against one of these pink an' white men, somehow. They're pretty enough to look at when you're feelin' first-rate, but when you git the neuralgy they sort of turns yo' stomach.
Ovid looked a bit doubtful, but Scattergood's voice was so interested, so bland, that any suspicion of irony was allayed. "How's your ma?" Scattergood asked. "Pert," answered Ovid. "Ma's spry. Barrin' a siege of neuralgy in the face off and on, ma hain't complainin' of nothin'." "Has she took to patronizin' a city tailor, too?" Scattergood asked. "Mostly," said Ovid, "ma makes her own."
There were different versions of the expressions he had used at the onset of his complaint, some of the reported exclamations involving a breach of propriety, to say the least, but it was agreed that a man in an attack of neuralgy wasn't to be judged of by the rules that applied to other folks. The company soon after this retired from the supper-room.
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