GRANNY GORTON’S BIRTHDAY.

New Zealand Times, Volume LVII, Issue 2549, 29 June 1895, Page 4

GRANNY GORTON’S BIRTHDAY.

Saturday, January 21st, was a great day in Central Village, in the State of Connecticut, in America. On that day Mrs Jonathan Gorton was 100 years old and formally received her friends, of whom hundreds were present. She wore her host black silk gown, with a rose in the bodice. The venerable lady was seated in a comfortable armchair on a platform in the best room of her house. Then the train of callers filed through, each and all shaking hands with her. “Granny Gorton,” as she is called, is a trim little body and very ! nimble on her feet. There was never anything ailed her, she says, and, except that her eyesight isn’t quite so good as it used to be, she is as active as any woman of 50. Why has Granny Gorton lived so long ? Why is she so active now? She lets out the secret herself when she says, “ There was never anything ailed me.” That’s it, and all of it.

People who live 100 years are not so very rare. The deaths of 45 such wore reported last year in England—22 men and 23 women. Yet, compared to the multi tudes who die, these are nothing —nothing. Can we not keep things from ailing us, and so live long as Mrs Gorton? Yes, if wo will take the trouble to do it! Men and women 100 years old, still vigorous and clear-headed, should bo a sight so common as not to bo remarked, and will bo yet iu the future. Why not so now? “Ask yourself the question,” as the boatmen say down on Deal beach. Here’s how it is; A woman’s tale. She says she fell ill when a girl of about 15. She lost her appetite, had pains in the sides and chest, frequent headaches, and was often obliged to lie down on the couch and rest. All this didn’t promise Img life, did it ? No; it was a bad start.

Well, she got worse instead of better Sh« was often sick, vomited her food, and spitting up a sour fluid. For five year* she went on this way. This brings us to October, 1831. She was then in service an parlour-maid at Leamington Hasting**, Warwickshire. Here she suffered from constant sickness, retching and heartburn. The chest pains were so bad as to bend her two double. No position that she could take relieved her. Ho stomach was ho tender and sore that everything aho ate pained and distressed her. For months and months she only took liquid food — milk and beaten eggs, and so on. She got weaker and weaker every day, so she says. Of course; how cdso could it be? A doctor at Rugby told her she had “ ulceration of the cheat,” which she didn’t at all. What is “ ulceration of the chest ?” He gave her medicines and advice, but she grew no better on that account. This young lady was now about 20 years old, with a poor outlook for ever being much older. She didn't expect it, nor did her friends. Then another doctor, being consulted, said “ulceration of the cheat,” like his medical brother at Kugby. Both wrong. “After six months’ medical treatment,” she says, “ I give up my situation and returned to my homo at Buxton Lamas,Norfolk. This was in Juno, 1882. Thou I was taken so bad I had to take to my bed. My mother thought I was in a decline.” Now, the word “ decline ” means consumption, as wo all know; a disease common in England and incurable everywhere. Thousands of bright girls and young men “ decline ” into their graves every year in this populous island. Sad enough it is to see. Well, at this point her good and wise mother interfered in her daughter’s case. She gave the doctors tho go-by and sent to Norwich for some bottles of Mother Soigol’s Curative Syrup. In two weeks tho young patient began to feel better, and in three months she got a new situation and went to work.

“ Since then, fifteen years ago/’ sbo says, “ I have kept in better health than ever before in my life, thanks to Soigel’s Syrup. Yours truly, (Signed), (Mrs) Sarah Eleanor Baker, 8, King’s street. Church road, Tottenham, near London, September 30th, 1892.” A dozen words more and we’re done. Mrs Baker’s ailment was indigestion and dyspepsia, nothing else, and quite enough. The “ ulceration ” was inflammation of the inner coating of the stomach, a symptom of the disease. "We wish her a long and happy life, and merely add that if all her sex could avoid or cure this one trouble most of thorn might live to bo as old as Granny Gorton.