CONSTITUTION AND CALOMEL.
By H. C. Stewart
When I was a boy, in the days of yore,
When doctors doctored as they doctor no more—
For the people they doctored are most all dead—
Then the treatment for fever, for gout, and for biles,
Was repeating big doses of calomel,
To be followed later by "caster ile;"
If the patient lived through it 'twas usually said
He or she had a strong constitution. In those good old days I had a brother
Who was sick of a fever of some kind or other,
No matter what name, he was a very sick man;
Two doctors were called, his case diagnosed;
The cure was a plain one as to remedy and dose;
They quickly decided that calomel be given
Every two hours, at 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, and 11,
For the man had a strong constitution. The treatment decided, the next thing to do
The sick man's surroundings were carefully looked to,
No fresh air must be permitted to enter the room;
So the windows with quilts were carefully covered,
Likewise 'round the door more quilts gently hovered;
The nurse was cautioned with hot tea to fill him,
One drop of cold water would certainly kill him,
Though the man had a strong constitution. The time in the year, as I now remember,
There was snow in abundance, late in December.
My brother was a very sick man;
The doctors both said so, he certainly looked it,
The skin hot and dry, the fever had cooked it;
The doctors were learned, both very wise,
If you tried to deceive them you had to tell lies,
Though the man had a strong constitution. My brother was red hot; without limitation,
The fever ran on its full time and duration,
Notwithstanding the calomel, large doses, specific.
The market for calomel steadily advanced;
The value of oil as steadily enhanced;
The patient grew weaker, the doses grew stronger;
The doctors both said, "He can't last much longer,"
But my—what a strong constitution! It happened one day the nurse wanted a nap;
I was to watch brother; if needed, I was to rap
On the door, but I was admonished to keep wide awake,
And to call the nurse when time to give the specific;
If I failed to do it, I'd be paddled terrific;
I was to give him hot tea—sheep sorrel I believe,
I may be mistaken, I don't wish to deceive—
But the man had a strong constitution. I gave him the tea, and a little while later
He begged me to get him one sup of cold water;
Of course he was wrong, for he wasn't a doctor;
Still he begged and promised great reward
If I'd go to the old-well down in the yard
And get him one sup of cold water;
I told him I mustn't, for the doctors had said
If he drank the least bit of water he'd surely be dead,
Although he had a strong constitution. Still he begged and he coaxed; I said, "I won't;"
He answered, "If I die if I get it, I'll die if I don't."
Now here was a fix for a boy to be placed in;
If I got him the water, a murderer I'd be;
He'd certainly die if he got only one;
To do it or not, the question I faced;
If I was to get the water, I'd no time to waste,
While the nurse was repairing her constitution. I took a small pitcher, went quickly and filled it;
Returning, I stumbled and partially spilled it,
But enough remained for a good, solid drink;
I trembled with fear lest the water would kill him,
But there wasn't enough left completely to fill him;
So of leakage the danger seemed small,
And I hoped that I'd not be found out at all,
For the man had a strong constitution. The effect of the water was quite unexpected,
And my murderous deed went undetected;
The nurse found the patient quietly sleeping;
The water brought sleep, strange story to tell;
The sick man got better, finally got well.
The doctors took credit for wonderful skill,
And claimed a great cure for old calomel,
Omitting to mention his strong constitution.