The morning found Mr. Hobart far from feeling well. His skin was dry and feverish and his mouth parched. There was an uneasy sensation of pain in his head. Immediately upon rising he took a strong glass of brandy. That, to use his own words, "brought him up," and made him feel "a hundred per cent better." During the forenoon, however, a slight diarrhoea manifested itself. A thrill of alarm was the consequence.
"I must check this!" said he, anxiously. And, in order to do so, another and stronger glass of brandy was taken.
In the afternoon, the diarrhoea appeared again. It was still slight, and unaccompanied by pain. But, it was a symptom not to be disregarded. So brandy was applied as before. In the evening, it showed itself again.
"I wish you would give me a little of that brandy," said he to his wife. "I'm afraid of this, it must be stopped."
"Hadn't you better see the doctor?"
"I don't think it necessary. The brandy will answer every purpose."
"I have no faith in brandy," said Mrs. Hobart. Poor woman! she had cause for her want of faith!
"I have then," replied her husband. "It's the doctor's recommendation. And he ought to know."
"You were perfectly well before you commenced acting on his advice."
"I was well, apparently. But, it is plain that the seeds of disease were in me. There is no telling how much worse I would have been."