“I shouldn't have supposed it, sir,” said Herbert, and Melville, too, felt surprised, as he noticed the stalwart proportions of the former consumptive.
“Ha! ha! I dare say not,” said the colonel, laughing. “I don't look much like it now, eh?”
“No, you certainly don't, colonel,” said Melville. “I am curious to know how you overcame the threatened danger.”
“I did what you are doing, sir; I came West.”
“But the mere coming West did not cure you, did it?”
“No, sir; it was the life I lived,” returned Col. \Varner. “I didn't stay in the cities; I went into the wilderness. I lived in a log-cabin. I bought a horse, and rode every day. I kept in the open air, and, after a while, I found my strength returning and my chest expanding, and in a twelvemonth I could afford to laugh at doctors.”
“And you have never had a return of the old symptoms?” asked Melville, with interest.
“Never, except four years afterwards, when I went to New York and remained nearly a year. I am now fifty, and rather hale and hearty for my years, eh?”
“Decidedly so.”
“Let me advise you to follow my example, Mr. Melville.”