Modern Medicine

MODERN MEDICINE

One problem with twelve little girls all living together in one house is that when one gets sick, others may catch it, too.  So it was no surprise that Jane and Nellie found themselves sharing a cold.  They were stopped up, and sneezing was giving way to coughing.

            “My head is quite phlegmatic,” complained Jane, blowing her nose, “I am not at all sanguine about a speedy recovery, and I am very melancholy; for which I considered taking a glass of prune juice.  Bailey fixed me a pot of chamomile tea, but all it is doing is making me pass yellow bile, so at least I am not choleric.”

 

            “Modern medicine has come a long way since you were back home, Jane,” said Nellie, “Doctors no longer think in terms of balancing the four humors.  So I’ve been to the druggist’s and picked up a bottle of patent medicine recommended for colds - tincture of cannabis, the strongest I could find; forty percent cannabis oil, and only sixty per cent alcohol.  It’s a cough suppressant, pain reliever, appetite stimulant, and mood elevator.”

            “What is it made from?”

            “It’s extracted from hemp flowers.”

            “Oh!  Our household physician recommended smoking dried hemp flowers as physic for just such complaints!  It is cheaper than tobacco, and even more effective.  It dispels melancholy and choler like nobody’s business, and it makes the spirit sanguine, but the body phlegmatic.  I am feeling sluggish enough as it is.”

        “We have not been feeling very energetic, true,” replied Nellie, “so I had the druggist make up a bottle of this at the soda fountain – Coca-Cola.  It’s an invigorating tonic, made from the leaves of a Peruvian shrub and some African nuts.  This will get you moving!”

 

            They filled tea cups with a half-and-half mixture from the bottles, and drank them off quickly.

            “La!” cried Jane, “It flies suddenly over the whole body and into the veins, and strengthens exceedingly!”

            

 

They sat and vibrated quietly for a number of minutes.   

            “I’m hungry all of a sudden!”  Nellie exclaimed.

            “There is a plate of cookies in the kitchen,” said Jane, “I will just step an’ fetch ‘em!”

 

            They polished off the cookies in no time, and finished the Coca-Cola. 

 

Jane suddenly burst out laughing, and then burst into song.  It was a four-part madrigal, and she did her best to sing all four parts at once.

            “Oh, metaphysical tobacco!

Fetch’d as far as from Morocco!

Thy searching fume exhales the rhume!

Oh, metaphysical tobacco!  Hahahahahahahahaha”

 

Metaphysical Tobacco

       “If you want to sing, Jane,” said Nellie, “let’s play the phonograph!  There is a song here you’ll like. It’s right up your alley!”

            “I do not have a back lane, and why would that have anything to do with what I like? (Snort! Giggle!)”

            “A modern song about a modern invention, played on another modern invention – ‘Come Take a Trip in My Airship’.”

            

They played the record several times, whistling and singing along with the chorus, rather loudly: 

“Come take a trip in my airship.
Come take a sail 'mong the stars.
Come have a ride around Venus.
Come have a spin around Mars.
No one to watch while we're kissing.
No one to see while we spoon.
Come take a trip in my airship,
And we'll visit the man in the moon.”

 

Come Take a Trip in My Airship 

“If you want modern music, Jane,” said Nellie, “try this on for size.”

            “I do not think it will fit! (Snicker!  Snort!)  My head will not fit through that little hole!  Hahahahaha!”

            “It’s called the Swipesy Cakewalk, a rag-time two-step.”

        The room was soon filled with a lively syncopated rhythm, and the two girls started dancing, neither a cakewalk nor a two-step. 

 

Swipsey Cakewalk 

        “Yippee!” yelled Nellie.

            “England and Saint George!” shouted Jane.

            “Hahahahahahaha!  That was great!  Let’s play it again!”

So they did.  And again.  And again.  And again.

 

            Suddenly, there was Samantha in their midst.

            “WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU GIRLS DOING?  IT’S PAST MIDNIGHT!  DANCING TO THAT AWFUL RAG-TIME!  AND YOU’VE EATEN ALL THE COOKIES, TOO!”

            

 

The two girls looked at each other and nodded.

            “Choleric!” they said in unison.         

 

“Now, Samantha,” said Jane, “Twist not your knickers.  You seem to be suffering from an excess of choler.  You need to either purge it or balance it.”

“Jane is right,” said Nellie, “She and I will be sleeping soundly very soon, I’m sure.  But you are all worked up.  You’ll never get back to sleep unless you calm down, relax.  And we have here . . . (Giggle! Snicker!) an excellent physic for a choleric humor.”  And she poured a healthy dose from the patent medicine bottle into a tea cup.

            

        “Just knock that back, Samantha,” said Jane, “and you will be as right as rain in a jiffy. (Giggle! Giggle! Snort!)”

 

            A short time later, Samantha was in a more balanced humor.

            “Did you ever look at your hand? . . . I mean really LOOK at it???”