A CRACKED HEART 



came gusts of Gargantuan laughter from my lusty 

 doctor. It was like June thunder, full of bellow 

 ing promise. But he graduated his medicinal 

 mirth just as the season graduates its thunders. 

 In June he muttered far down on the horizon. 

 In July he pealed from the zenith. In August 

 he exploded, for by that time he found that, weak 

 as my heart might be, I had will-power enough 

 to follow his directions to the letter. I had wiped 

 out the world for the time being and come down 

 to mush and milk and first principles. I knew 

 very well that he did not believe that I was capa 

 ble of it. I had heard him say more than once 

 that there was no escape for a man who drugged 

 himself with society. 



One morning I received a letter from him, say 

 ing he was coming up to take a week s loafing 

 in my cabin and examine my tongue. I jumped 

 with a glad apprehension and considerable solici 

 tude. That old Lucullus coming here for a 

 week. What would I do with him in this pov 

 erty-struck hut ? Where would I put his silk 

 shirts and pajamas ? How pamper his capacious 

 stomach ? How fill his enormous capacity for 

 comradeship? It was all very well for Charlie 

 and me, who were roughing it for our health, and 

 could sleep on a board and eat cold pork between 

 sea-biscuit, and wash ourselves in the brook, but 

 visitors and a visitor who was an epicure, a 

 connoisseur, and a social lion ! Oh, I d tele 

 graph him and stop it, but before I could get 

 a telegram down to Spelldown he arrived. I 



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