February, 1916. 



American H Qe Journal j^y^ 





was whole wheat boiled and eaten with 

 milk, sometimes sweetened. A peck of 

 wheat goes a long way, and is withal a 

 wholesome food. Rice was sometimes 

 used as a change, and I bought some 

 bread. 



I cannot now say just what my board 

 cost, but at least some of the time it 

 did not exceed 35 cents a week. I know 

 that for a time I had a boarder at 50 

 cents a week. It was my cousin and 

 classmate, John H. Miller. But when I 

 gave him beef suet in place of butter 

 for his bread, he struck, and I lost my 

 boarder. If I had known enough to 

 call it oleomargarine, it might have 

 passed muster, but oleomargarine was 

 then unknown, and he drew the line at 

 beef suet. 



It was optional with students whether 

 to spend the third term senior at col- 

 lege or to teach. I chose teaching, and 

 got $100 for teaching one term at an 

 academy at Delhi, N. Y. That helped 

 wonderfully, so that after having paid 

 for my diploma and all other bills I 

 left college with some $80 in my 

 pocket. If I could have foreseen this 

 I don't think I should have economized 

 quite so severely; but I had a great 

 horror of debt, and eagerly seized 

 every opportunity either to earn money 

 or economize, lest the opportunity 

 might not come again, and so it hap- 

 pened that I left college with more 

 money in my pocket than when I went 

 there. 



Throughout the two years I main- 

 tained maximum standing in my studies, 

 and at commencement had the honor 

 of delivering the German oration. I 

 have little recollection what that ora- 

 tion was about, but when I think of the 

 difficulty I now have in reading a Ger- 

 man bee journal after years of practice 

 I am constrained to believe that either 

 the German oration was assigned me 

 for some reason other than my profi- 

 ciency in German, or else that there 

 was poor material in the class from 

 which to select a German orator. Even 

 at that, I came near missing that part 

 at commencement. My chum and I 

 were in the habit of saving over a 

 meaningless jingle, "Hops clops de 

 kinny de trickel de raus kooma vas." 

 Just a few days before commencement 

 the class orators were ordered to ap- 



THE MILLER HOME AT MARENGO. ILL. 



pear before Dr. Nott to recite their 

 several productions, with the alterna- 

 tive that those not yet fully prepared 

 would not be allowed to take part at 

 commencement. I started in on mine 

 all right, but when near the end the 

 whole thing left me entirely. I hesi- 

 tated just an instant, and then promptly 

 wound up with "Hops clops de kinny 

 de trickel de raus kooma vas." Dr. 

 Nott scowled and said, " We don't 

 teach Dutch here." "That isn't Dutch," 

 I answered, and Dr. Nott made no re- 

 ply. I do not feel proud of the trans- 

 action, although I spoke my piece at 

 commencement. 



The thing of which I felt the proud- 

 est was securing Phi Beta Kappa, the 

 highest attainable honor. Several 

 others of the class, however, achieved 

 the same thing. 



After securing the degree of A. B., I 

 was one of the teachers in the academy 

 at Geneseeo, N. Y., and then went to 

 Johnstown, Pa., and began reading 

 medicine with Dr. C. Sheridan. He 

 was taken with the western land fever, 

 and moved to Earlville, 111., where he 

 had bought a farm. So I went West, 

 too, and was graduated an M. D. at 

 Michigan University, Ann Arbor, Mich. 

 By that time Dr. Sheridan had gone 

 into partnership with Dr. Vosburg at 

 Earlville, and upon graduation I also 

 entered the firm. The principal busi- 

 ness of a physician then and there was 

 administering quinine for fever and 

 ague. I was pretty well shaken up 

 with the disease myself, and my ears 

 were kept ringing with the heavy doses 

 of quinine taken. 



Rev. John Ustick was the pastor of 

 the Presbyterian church to which I 

 belonged at Earlville. At a meeting of 

 Presbytery he was interviewed by Rev. 

 Geo. F. Goodhue, pastor ot a church at 

 a place called Marengo, the said Mr. 

 Goodhue being in search of a young 

 physician to settle at Marengo. As a 

 result, I trekked to Marengo, my outfit 

 being a gaited saddle-horse and saddle 

 and a large medical library, at least 

 for a young man just beginning his 

 career as a physician. For I had 

 bought the whole of the library that 

 Dr. Sheridan had accumulated when 

 he had decided to quit practice. It may 

 be remarked in passing that he after- 



ward gave up the idea of farming, re- 

 turned to Johnstown, and ended a long 

 life of usefulness as a greatly beloved 

 physician. 



Dr. A. Hagar, the leading physician 

 of Marengo, did not look with favor 

 upon my settling in Marengo, and ad- 

 vised me to go West and find ground 

 less occupied. Later, however, he be- 

 came my warm frienrl, and remained 

 so until the day of his death. He had 

 a very extensive practice, extending 8 

 or 10 miles in all directions. Desirous 

 to give up his longest rides, he began 

 to throw them into my hands. That 

 was, in a way, my undoing as a medi- 

 cal practitioner. 



After having visited one of the long- 

 distance patients, carefully considering 

 the case, and prescribing to the best of 

 my ability, I would mount my horse 

 for a long ride home, perhaps in the 

 middle of the night, and on the way 

 misgivings would overtake me, and I 

 would ruminate. " Have I, after all, 

 understood the case ? Any mistake 

 might bring serious, perhaps fatal, re- 

 sults. Better look up carefully what is 

 said in the books about it." Then after 

 worrying the rest of the way home 

 about it, I would consult the many au- 

 thorities, decide that I had done the 

 best thing, and then conclude to meet 

 what other exigencies might arise, and 

 do no more worrying. But the next 

 visit I would go over the same experi- 

 ence again, question my fitness for 

 such important responsibility, and 

 finally the burden became so great that 

 I felt obliged to get out from under it 

 and give up the practice of medicine. 

 It seemed like throwing away a good 

 part of my life, for I had been faithful 

 in preparation and was probably 

 equipped better than the average. 

 (To be continued.) 



to 



Sweet Clover—Its Value 

 the Beekeeper 



BY M. G. DADANT. 



WE have seen sweet clover advance 

 in the last few years from the 

 position of a noxious weed to 

 that of one of the best forage plants of 

 the country, some claims being made 



