But here I was, after the briefest of business adventures, with five dollars in my pocket, and again at a loss. That evening I once more ran over the list of my available accomplishments, to see which one was most applicable, and happened to think of one which had been escaping my mind. What was to prevent my pursuing the vocation of a corn doctor?
True enough, my knowledge was theoretical rather, than practical, having been gleaned from a few incidental remarks made by Professor Carter; but I thought I remembered all he had said on the subject, and was sure that anything more would be confusing. I decided to launch out the next morning and test for myself the possibilities of the profession.
In the outset, I may as well premise that as a corn doctor I was a miserable failure, and after the first day’s experience never had the nerve to attempt the scheme again. I had none too much confidence in the start, and before the day’s work was done had mentally vowed that the corn doctor was the most worthless piece of mechanism ever manufactured.
The day bid fair to be blazing hot, and the chances were that before getting through I would be hotter. I went along, trying to muster up courage, and laughing at myself for a cowardice which I had never felt since breaking the ice with calling cards. What troubled me was the fact that my inexperienced hand would most likely be employed, if at all, on the corns and bunions of the sweeter sex, and I felt shy of presenting myself as a spectacle for their roguish or discriminating eyes. Door after door I passed, and at each one my courage failed me and I went on with a muttered “not yet.”
“This will never do,” I said to myself at length.
“At the fifth house from this I stop and begin work. Rich or poor, young or old, high or low, no matter what state or condition of men, women or children I may meet with, I intend to extract their corns, eradicate their bunions, and obtain the full market price for my services.”
The fifth house was a neat cottage and the name of Higbie was on the door. I rang the bell and a young lady appeared at the threshold.
Good heavens! If it had been her grandmother the case would have been bad enough, but I confess the sight of this beautiful young lady, with the big blue eyes and the lovely golden hair, frizzled all over her head in some bewildering manner, broke my nerve at the very outset. I felt an immediate desire to ask for a glass of water, but remembered that I had exhausted that racket in my Chicago experience, and came to business as well as I could.
The longer I thought of those wide blue eyes which were on me, the more confused and excited I became, and the less inclined I felt to break the ice, though I knew it had to be done in some way. When, at length, in a very sweet voice, she asked what I wanted, I blurted out:
“Do you want to buy any corns today? Ah—oh, no—I don’t mean that. I wanted to ask if you had any corns in here. That is—are you—no—so to speak—I am a corn doctor, selling corns, bunions and ingrowing toe nails. I have only a few more left of the same sort, and I am disposing of them ridiculously cheap.”