The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg and Other Stories HTML version
Christian Science And The Book Of Mrs. Eddy
'It is the first time since the dawn-days of Creation that a Voice has gone crashing
through space with such placid and complacent confidence and command.'
This last summer, when I was on my way back to Vienna from the Appetite-Cure in the
mountains, I fell over a cliff in the twilight and broke some arms and legs and one thing
or another, and by good luck was found by some peasants who had lost an ass, and they
carried me to the nearest habitation, which was one of those large, low, thatch-roofed
farm-houses, with apartments in the garret for the family, and a cunning little porch under
the deep gable decorated with boxes of bright-coloured flowers and cats; on the ground
floor a large and light sitting-room, separated from the milch-cattle apartment by a
partition; and in the front yard rose stately and fine the wealth and pride of the house, the
manure-pile. That sentence is Germanic, and shows that I am acquiring that sort of
mastery of the art and spirit of the language which enables a man to travel all day in one
sentence without changing cars.
There was a village a mile away, and a horse-doctor lived there, but there was no
surgeon. It seemed a bad outlook; mine was distinctly a surgery case. Then it was
remembered that a lady from Boston was summering in that village, and she was a
Christian Science doctor and could cure anything. So she was sent for. It was night by
this time, and she could not conveniently come, but sent word that it was no matter, there
was no hurry, she would give me 'absent treatment' now, and come in the morning;
meantime she begged me to make myself tranquil and comfortable and remember that
there was nothing the matter with me. I thought there must be some mistake.
'Did you tell her I walked off a cliff seventy-five feet high?'
'And struck a boulder at the bottom and bounced?'
'And struck another one and bounced again?'
'And struck another one and bounced yet again?'
'And broke the boulders?'