The cold in my chest pained more than ever; I began to fear pneumonia. The landlord's wife said she would be a mother to me. Whew! If she made it as warm for her "old man" as she did for me, I pity and congratulate him in one breath. She prepared a mustard sitz-bath (my feet had suffered two already) powerful enough, she declared, to force cold-blisters on my hair; she slapped mustard leaves on my chest and back; she gave me spirits of camphor for my lips, witch-hazel for my eyes, a pork bandage for my neck, and liberal doses of aconite, quinine, whiskey and rum. Then she innocently asked if I could think of any other place my cold, when fairly on the run, would be likely to settle. Being unable to answer, I called on a physician.
"The landlady has fixed you up admirably," said he; "I cannot benefit you further, unless I advise you to shave off your hair when the blisters have settled on it, to prevent the cold's return."
I expressed my gratitude for his kind assurances, and to my surprise, though he had an electric battery in his room, he refused to charge me.
Without loss of time, I set out and walked two miles to the old homestead of President Martin Van Buren, that stood back from the road behind a group of ancient pines which sighed dolefully as I passed.
The family living there received me kindly, and showed me the library, parlors and hall; the old Dutch wall-paper, picturing ancient hunts, watch-towers, and pastoral scenes, recalled a pleasant sojourn in Holland. A Wagoner family living in the next house asked me to dinner, and I "et" with them.
"I once knew a Van Wagoner," I said; "they were fine people."
"Our family were originally of that name," Mr. Wagoner replied. "They dropped the Van some time ago."
Mac A'Rony said he had never heard of Vans being dropped from Wagoners, but had often seen wagoners dropped from vans.
I next crossed the bridge spanning the creek just out of town, where, it is said, Washington Irving conceived the story of the headless horseman.
President Van Buren gave a ball to some statesmen, and Irving was invited. Some wag among the guests rigged up a dummy on a horse, and let the animal loose to give the author a scare. Wash never lost an opportunity to make a good story, and he made use of the idea.