HE SHOUTED FOR HELP.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 6884, 27 August 1900, Page 1

HE SHOUTED FOR HELP.

It was not for pleasure that Mr Wilson concluded to take a walk in his garden ; ifc was rather an experiment than an act of recreation, And, grievous to relate, the result was against him. The fact is, he had hardly coyered a. hundred feet of ground before he stopped, gave a choking gasp, and then sang out for help. His wife and two sons came to the rescue, and got him indoors as best they were able. And that ended his going alone for six months or more.

By trade Mr Wilson is a carpenter, one of the most useful, peaceful and respectable of all the forms of industry. He has lived antl worked for a Jong time {it Given Terrace, Paddington, Brisbane, Queensland, and lives there still. About four years ago—^or it will be by the time this gets into print — Mr Wilson began to feel himself much less of a man than he used to be ; he was breaking down. '

The first thing he noticed wai. that when he set out to walk a fairish distance, which he would haye .done once with a kit of tools on his back, ■iyithout mnwling it— l say, when he- set out to tramp this, he found his legs were weak, and he often had to .-.top for breath. And he kept on getting worse. Such a state of things was almost as bad for a carpenter as it would hare been for a postman. Both these vocations demand good legs and good wind. On being consulted, the doctor said : "Mr Wilson, your heart is so weak that it can scarcely pump the blood through your body, and your whole system is out of order. There is no clianco of' your getting sound again, and the sooner you lay aside your saws and hammers, the longer you ore likely to live,"

These were plain words, to be sure, but not words which a-<patient Avould feel like paying out money to listen to. All the same, friend Wilson did as the doctor said, because he had np choice. He couldn't work and so, naturally, he didn't. His chisels grew dull, but not so dull as their owner. He left off making chips and shavings, and went in for drugs and regrets— a bad'landslide for him.

After about half a year of this sort of thing, Mr Wilson made up his mind to find out for himself if he was in fact so poor a stick of human timber - a s the medical man had declared him to be; hence the experimental walk in the garden already described For six months more he was like a ship iii a dry dock, of no use to himself, or anybody else. The doctor had measured up the carpenter's complaint to an eighth of an inch but as for. curing it, why, that he made no pretence of doing. " About this time," says Mr Wilson in a letter dated Sept. 22, 1899, "Mr Prank Perciv.il Peacock, of Manning Street, South Brisbane, urged me to try Mother Seigel's Syrup; he said. Jhe -was sure it would help me. I didn't think so, but I tried it. To my surprise and delight, it enabled me'to get about in three weeks, and in six weeks I went back to work ; and have had splendid health ever since.

"As I am sixty-one years old, it wasn't the rebound of .youthful elasticity that saved me; it was Mother Seigel's Syrup and nothing elsei I am linown to nearly all the people of this neighbourhood, who can vouch fop the truth, of my statements. — H. Wilson." '■■ * •*•.•'■■■■•

Mr Wilson's ailment-w as Qf the digestion —the heave and lung troubles: being functional -symptoms of that. Wherr the stomach was made right he picked up his saw.