"
"Dear me," said Mrs. Dodd; "and now, my good friend, with respect to _my
daughter_----
"N' list _me!_" clashed Sampson; "ye're goen to fathom th'
antiphlogistics, since they still survive an' slay in holes and corners
like Barkton and d'Itly; I've driven the vamperes out o' the cintres o'
civilisation. Begin with their coolers! Exhaustion is not a cooler, it is
a feverer, and they know it; the way parrots know sentences. Why are we
all more or less feverish at night? Because we are weaker. Starvation is
no cooler, it is an inflamer, and they know it--as parrots know truths,
but can't apply them: for they know that burning fever rages in ivery
town, street, camp, where Famine is. As for blood-letting, their prime
cooler, it is inflammatory; and they know it (parrot-wise), for the
thumping heart and bounding pulse of pashints blid by butchers in black,
and bullocks blid by butchers in blue, prove it; and they have recorded
this in all their books: yet stabbed, and bit, and starved, and
mercuried, and murdered on. But mind ye, all their sham coolers are real
weakeners (I wonder they didn't inventory Satin and his brimstin lake
among their refrijrators), and this is the point whence t' appreciate
their imbecility, and the sairvice I have rendered mankind in been the
first t' attack their banded school, at a time it seemed imprignable.
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