BROWN'S DECEPTION.

Lake County Press, Issue 1065, 21 May 1903, Page 6

BROWN'S DECEPTION.

Brown's type-writer had a cold in her head. Brown, who wa<i uu impulsive, generous m»u, observed her sniffing and asked her what she was doing for the cold. " Notui'g," she said. " I'll call up my family doctor and get him to prescribe for you," said Brown, kindly. •• It's no use being uneomt'ortable lancer than necessary. ' While he was waiting for Central to pivo him the doctor's number a startling thought came to him. What if the doctor sheu'd mention to Biowu's wife that Brown had telephoned him about the typewriter? Brown's wife quite believed that Brown was possessed of charms that attracted all women to him irresistibly, especially type-writers, and she was wildly jeaious of the industrious soul to whom Brown was really interesting only on salary day. " Carl," Baid Brown, as he thought of the blunder he had so nearly committed, " that would have laised the deuce." " Hullo!" came the voice of the doctor. " Hullo!" replied Brown. "That you, doctor ? Say, ioctor, I've got a mighty bad cold. Can't you send a-ound something for it ?" '• What soit of a cold ?" asked the other end. "It's in my head, I think," ventured Brown. '' You think! Don't you know ?'' came in a tone of some surprise. " What are your symptoms ?" Brown had not thought of that, and he stammered in sudden ic. He was not much used to lying " Wait a minute, doctor," he said, and rushed over to his type-writer. " What're your symptoms—quick, quick !" he whispered. " Cough," said she, " tickling in my throat, headache, constant thirst, can't breathe through my nose." Brown rushed back to the 'phone. "Cough doctor,'he said, " tickling in my tin oat constant thirst, headache, can't breathe through my nose." " That sounds bad," said the doctor, after a moment. "I'd better run around to see you. I'll be around in au hour. I can't prescribe for anything as serious as that without seeing you." " Sorry," gasped Brown, " but I'm just going out of town." " .Not with that cold ! I'll be right up. Good-bye." said the doctor, ringing ofF. Brown scarcely had time to get Well scared bcf:>re the doctor hurried in. " You're looking pretty well," were his first words. "Oh yes," said Brown, grimly. " I look better than 1 feel." The doctor unbuttoned Brown's coat and listened for a rattling in his chest. Ho tapped him for soreness, examined his tongue, felt his pulse, and looked grave 3S Brown had a paroxysm of coughing. " Brown," said he, you are a mighty nick man. You ought to he in bed this very minute. This is Saturday. Now you hurry home and don't you 'leave your house till Monday; bettor stay in bed. Take one of these dart tablets every two hours and three quinine pills after each meal. Good-bye. Be sure and let me know how you are getting on." Brown turned the tablets over to his typewriter, and was enjojing his papers on Sunday afternoon, when he was horrified to see the doctor at his door. I got worried about you," said the doctor. " and thought I'd drive around. Medicines help you any ?" " Oh, wonderfully." said Brown; " 1 feel like a different man." ' 'How many tablets have you left ?" asked the doctor. " l-«t mo see them Brown." " Oh, there's plenty left, plenty left," said Brown, nervously. " But I want to see them," insisted the doctor. " Well, you can't see them." blur tori out Brown; " tho infernal things are at, the office." " Why, Henry," broke in Mrs. Brown, much aggrieved, " why didn't you tell me that you were ill? Hucli things ought not to bo kept from me. Is he \eiy ill, doctor?"' •• I want you to get him to bed at once," s-aid the doctor, decisively. "He has got lne grip. If he hud taken that medicine he might have warded it off, but now it U too I.ilc. His hands arc cold, his forehead's covered with perspiration; and his circulate u is mighty bad." •' I don't want to go to bed," said Brown, with much hear. " I'm better. That tickling in my tliii i t bus gone, and 1 can breathe t i rough my mi ,m\v." 'All goes ti. nlmw I hat the cold bus left your head and lias fccttled in your whole system," said the doctor. "If yon don't go to bed at once, I'll not answer for the const! quenccß." Brown resisted till the doctor and Mrs. Biown wore him out between them, and he went to bed. •' Get him in a profuse porspii alien as soon a- possible," ordered the doctor ; and Mrs. Brown buried Brown several feet deep under hot blankets. •* Now give him a bowl of hot lemonade and whisky," ordered the doctor. " I can't go hot lemonade. It makes mo sick," said the mutinous Brown. " Never mind," insisted the doctor. " I'll give you something to settle your stomach. We're going tosweat this grip out of you." As Brown lay there under half a dozen blankets that afternoon, he glared about him with the perspiration oozing from every pore, and swore to discharge the typewriter on Monday. He cursed his generous impulses and condemned all doctors to a place warm enough to sweat out grip without extra blanlais. As Mrs. Brown bustled iu that evening with a bowl of weak broth in placo of his usual excellent Sunday dinner, she heard Brown mutter : " Oh, what a tangled web we weave, When first we practice to deceive," She set the tray down hastily, and hurried the maid to tho drug store to telephone the diK-tor that Brown had gone delirious, and he had better come immediately.