all illness was attributed to ill-wishers. It is certain that charms and remedies, all more or less disgusting, are still relied on, and are exhibited with a faith that is denied to the doctor’s remedies, and that wins half the battle in advance.
“Ha, thim docthors!” said a dissatisfied patient on hearing of the death of his medical adviser. “They can let themselves die too!”
I think it advisable, for many reasons, to withhold such recipes as I can now recall, but I may offer a couple of samples that will possibly check any desire for more.
In typhoid fever: “close out” all the windows, and anoint the patient from head to foot with sheep’s butter.
In whooping-cough: the patient should be put “under an ass, and over an ass”; but a better method is to induce a gander to spit down the sufferer’s throat.
“A lucky hand” in doctor or nurse is of more value than many diplomas. There is an old woman whose practice has been untrammelled by the fetters or follies of science.
“The cratures!” she says of her clients. “They sends for me, and I goes to them, and I gives them the best help I can. And sure the Lord Almighty’s very thankful to me; He’d be glad of a help too.”
She is now “pushing ninety,” but she is still helping.
If a quack is not procurable, a doctor with a hot temper is generally well thought of. Martin made some notes of a conversation that she had with a countryman in West Carbery, which exemplified this fact. The “Old Doctor” referred to was noted for his potency in language as in physic, and it was valued.
“Lave him curse, Ma’am!” whispered a patient to the doctor’s expostulating wife, “For God’s sake, lave him curse!”