A LOCAL DEPARTMENT 



99 



tongs. I was in no haste, except to 

 get away, and when in came a woman 

 with an agonizing toothache, and the 

 dentist said, "Yon can wait a little 

 longer, can yon not?" I acquiesced, 

 expecting every minute to hear shrieks 

 from the victim in the chair. As I 

 waited, I heard the woman and the 

 dentist talking cheerfully as if she had 

 come for a social meeting. He even 

 told a funny story and she laughed. I 

 supposed he had told that story a 

 thousand times preliminary to getting 

 in his deadly work. He knew I was 

 sitting only a few feet distant and 

 waiting for those tongs, but he fussed 

 around with a hottle as if he were per- 

 fuming her mouth and then disappear- 

 ed in the back room to return in a few 

 minutes with a hypodermic syringe. 

 While I was expecting the shrieks the 

 victim said, "Thank you, doctor, verv 

 much : I did not know you had taken 

 it out." 



No. I did not faint. I was anxious 

 to escape the funny story and said, 

 "Doctor, if you can extract this big 

 tooth without pain to me, you shall 

 h?ve the finest notice you have ever 

 had. You cannot make me believe 

 the" vou removed that woman's toot 1 "* 

 without nain to her. She kn°w T ^-as 

 here. She kept silent to show her 

 bravery." 



In the meanwhile the doctor had 

 brought out that bottle. He said that 

 it did not contain cocaine but some- 

 thing better. I knew that somewhere 

 in his coat he had the tongs. He 

 started in to say, "Did I ever tell vou 



about ' and T knew this was to lie 



the old story and tried to head him 

 off, but he continued, "Did I ever tel 1 

 yon about that new local anaesthetic 

 made from a coal tar product?" "No." 

 I said, "you didn't." "Did I under- 

 stand vou," he said, "to tell me that 

 if I extracted your tooth so yon would 

 not feel it vou would write me a good 

 notice?" "Yes." I said- "You may 

 call yourself a painless dentist but vou 

 cannot work on my imagination to 

 that extent; you cannot hypnotize me 

 into thinking that something is that is 

 noy pivl something is not that is-" 

 "Well." be said presentlv, "I will try 

 to deserve that notice. You may now 

 go home and write it." "Oh." I said, 

 "take out that tooth. You are eettine 



to the end of my patience with your 

 nonsense. Take it out." "There it is," 

 he said. "Carry it home, and look at it 

 as you write that notice." And it was 

 even so. The tooth was out. He said 

 he would. I said I would. He did his 

 part. I have done mine. His name is 

 Dr. W. H. Pomeroy, of Stamford, 

 Connecticut, and I am so delighted 

 that I could sing a song, "It's a long, 

 long w r ay, not from Tipperary, but 

 from the rotund ogre, Fritz, to the 

 genial and painless Dr. Pomeroy." 



An Expensive Fishing Trip. 



An ardent fisherman was President 

 Cleveland, and a writer in the New 

 York Sun says of him that he enjoyed 

 angling for the fish that would not bite 

 quite as much as he did for those that 

 would. While fishing one day, dressed 

 in oil-skins and a slouch hat, he was 

 addressed by an angler garbed in the 

 height of piscatorial fashion with: 



Hello, boatman!. You've certainly 

 got a good catch. What will you take 

 for the fish?" 



"I'm not selling them," replied the 

 man in oil-skins. 



"Well," continued the persistent ang- 

 ler, "what do you want to take me out 

 fishing to-morrow?" 



Mr. Cleveland, who was plainly en- 

 joying the joke, replied. "I can't make 

 any engagement except by the season. 

 Will you give me as much as I made 

 last year?" 



"You're a sharp fellow," replied the 

 angler, "but a good fisherman, and I'll 

 accept your terms. What did you make 

 last year?" 



"Oh," replied Mr. Cleveland, "about 

 a thousand dollars a week ! I was 

 President of the United States." — 

 Youth's Companion. 



The best thing is to go from Nature's 

 God down to Nature ; and if yon once 

 get to Nature's God and believe Him, 

 and love Him, it is surprising how easy 

 it is to hear music in the waves, and 

 songs in the wild whisperings of the 

 winds ; to see God everywhere in the 

 stones, in the rocks, in the rippling 

 brooks, and hear Him even-where.— 

 C. H. Spurgeon. 



