Life — April 5, 1883 — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

, ‘ six ote stage aunty Rinanedige? waited for him to come to. My feelings, I may remark, in spite of my imposed mask of cynicism, are deep and strong. But then, on the other hand, my self-control is simply awful. At last he opened his eyes. ‘* How do you feel now ?” I asked, with assumed indifference. “I feel as if my spine were in four pieces,” said Jacobs. “A while ago I was a half-back; now I am only a quarter-back.” “Jacobs,” said I, with a frown, ‘if you do that sort of thing again, I leave you to your fate.” “ T was wrong,” he cried, with emotion, “ forgive me.” “ Try to explain to me lucidly and succinctly the real nature of your injuries,” “ Three of my ribs are broken; my right shoulder is dislo- cated, I have a few slight internal injuries. I believe that is all,” he said, carelessly. “Hadn't I better send for a surgeon,” I asked, as I proceeded to roll another cigarette. “*No; no stupid English surgeon shall distort my anatomy. Have the kindness to reach me down a small agate vial which ill find in the top left hand pigeon-hole of that buhl I did as he desired, ‘* This vial,” he continued, ** contains a simple but potent remedy unknown to your science of the West. The proper dose will throw me into a profound sleep, lasting just eighteen hours, from which I shall awake with my fractures mended and in perfect condition. Yes,” he murmured, “I shall join the tiger hunt to-morrow, I must—my destiny hangs upon this chance.” He drew my attention to the label on the vial, which was in the ancient cuneiform character and read ‘* Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup.” ‘‘It comes from the tombs of Nineveh,” he added, ‘and is many thousands of years old, Pour me’ out exactly twelve and a half drops. Half a drop too much or too little and I fall at your feet a loathsome and black- ened corpse. Such is the powerful nature of the drug. Priggs, is your hand quite firm?” “Quite,” I replied. I was already dropping the thick, gummy liquid into a mother-of-pearl spoon. My nerves did not shake— eye and hand faltered not. Iam acold, proud man; the world deems me heartless, and perchance Iam. Yet, reader, I will not conceal from you that my pulse beat loudly as I counted one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve—and a half.” “And a half,” repeated Jacobs as he swallowed the draught. ** Now leave me,” he commanded, and falling back upon the rug sank into a peaceful sleep. SPRING SPORTS. SOCIAL MISCELLANY. Mrs. Honora Mulcahey, Mr. Bill Watson and Miss Tilly Shopplifter are among those who have taken apartments in Sing Sing-on-Hudson for the season. Mr. Raphael Murderini and Mrs. Mary Ann O'Hara are the guests of Sheriff Davidson at his old mansion on Centre street, Mrs. Michael Donovan is spending a few weeks on Ward's Island, the guest of the Municipality, Mr. Nathan Tucker, the eminent pickpocket, has concluded to spend the summer at the State Hotel on the Hudson. Among the passengers who arrived to-day from Limerick Portugal, on the St. Patrick's line steamer, Daudeen, were Mr. and Mrs. P. Maguire, Mr. and Mrs. Michael Nolan, Miss Mary Ann Murphy, the Hoo. Francis Xavier Kilkenny and family, Mr. Peter O' Dynamite, Mrs. Peter Flynn and eighteen children, Miss Honora Doolan, Mr. and Mrs. Patrick MacNamara, Miss Belle Whelan, Col. Tipperar Bally share, of the Cork Guards. Mr. Brian O*Hod and family, and Mr. and Mrs. John Harrigan. The following sailed to-day on the Tammany Line Steamer, Sachem, for Killaray, France: Mr. Thomas O'Sullivan, Mr. and Mrs. C. P. McNamee, Mrs. Patrick Flannigan, Mr, and Mrs.’ Mavourneen-Kelly and Miss Katie Whelan. THE FRENCH TERROR. How Vignaux appears to the American billiard players, vamos —— ae comicbooks.com