Convalescent

Levin Daily Chronicle, 10 February 1917, Page 4

Convalescent

(By WALT MASON.)

When one's recovered- from the grip mid fit to walk around again, lie likes to take a little trip downtown among his fellow men. He wants to tell his cronies there about the tortures he has known, of how the anguish greyed his hair, and harrowed tliew and twisted bone. He meets a friend and says, "Oddsfishj be patient ivlule ten minutes skip and hearken to me, for I wish to tell aibout my case of grip. That learned chirurgeon, I>r Daw, who saved me from a box of pine, hath told me that lie never saw a caee one-half so bad as mine. My lungs refused their proper .graft; my windpipe, like defective flue, was all clogged up; there was no draught; it whistled every breath I drew."

"Come off, come off, anc! soak your head," exclaims the friend, so brash and flap. "I just have risen from my bed, where I had forty kinds of grip. And any of the forty brands was worse than youir denatured case, so pusli yourself with both your hands, and spring your yarn some other place."

That's all the sympathy one gets, when he's allowed to run at large, by all the doctors, nurses, vets who've had him- for six weeks in charge.