“Well,” said Vizard, “after all, we have had enough of the monsters of the deep. Now we can vary the monotony, and say the monsters of the shallow. But I don't see how they can cause rheumatism.”
“I never said they did,” retorted Miss Gale, sharply: “but the water which contains them is soft water. There is no lime in it, and that is bad for the bones in every way. Only the children drink it as it is: the wives boil it, and so drink soft water and dead reptiles in their tea. The men instinctively avoid it and drink nothing but beer. Thus, for want of a pure diluent with lime in solution, an acid is created in the blood which produces gout in the rich, and rheumatism in the poor, thanks to their meager food and exposure to the weather.”
“Poor things!” said womanly Zoe. “What is to be done?”
“La!” said Fanny, “throw lime into the ponds. That will kill the monsters, and cure the old people's bones into the bargain.”
This compendious scheme struck the imagination, but did not satisfy the judgment of the assembly.
“Fanny!” said Zoe, reproachfully.
“That would be killing two birds with one stone,” suggested Uxmoor, satirically.
“The tender mercies of the wicked are cruel,” explained Vizard, composedly.
Zoe reiterated her question, What was to be done?
Miss Gale turned to her with a smile. “We have got nothing to do but to point out these abominations. The person to act is the Russian autocrat, the paternal dictator, the monarch of all he surveys, and advocate of monarchial institutions. He is the buffer between the poor and all their ills, especially poison: he must dig a well.”