A physician who was asked the difference between rheumatism and gout, answered: “If you take a vise, put a finger between, and turn until you can’t stand it any longer, that’s rheumatism; if you turn once more, that’s gout.” Humor on the Deathbed When Frank, a famous Vienna physician was dying, eight of his colleagues sat around his bed, in consultation. All at once the dying man laughed aloud and said: “I was just thinking of that French grenadier, who, at the battle of Wagram, fell after being struck by eight bullets, and whose last words were: Sapristi, it takes eight bullets to kill a French grenadier!” Very Ill A hospital physician asked a sick old man, how he was. “Oh, dear Doctor,” said the good old fellow, “I feel so ill, that if some one told me I was dead, I should not be surprised.” Poor Schleiermacher The famous preacher Schleiermacher had, during a severe illness, been under the care of the celebrated Dr. Gräfe. After his recovery, Schleiermacher wrote to him and enclosed in his letter four Friedrichsd’or—about thirty-one dollars. Gräfe sent the amount back with this rude answer: “Wealthy people pay me what they like; the well-to-do pay the regular fee; the poor pay nothing.” Whereupon Schleiermacher wrote: “Sir! For the return of the four Friedrichsd’or accept poor Schleiermacher’s sincere thanks!” Who Was Right The celebrated Dr. Heim, who was known to be often slightly intoxicated, was called while in that condition, into a family whose regular physician he was. The gentleman of the house, who was taken with an attack of acute indigestion, and was suffering intense pain, confessed that it might be the result of having eaten too many raw oysters. “Give him Chester cheese, and a good big portion of it,” said Heim, and without another word, walked out. The patient’s family, who imagined that cheese was more indigestible than oysters, shook their heads over their doctor’s advice, and thinking that in his intoxicated condition he had made a big mistake, gave him rum instead of the cheese. A few hours later the patient died. The next morning Heim came to look after his patient. He was told that he had died in the night. “Didn’t you give him the Chester cheese?” asked Heim. “No, Doctor,—we thought—you were—we gave him rum.” “So,” Heim cried furiously: “you thought, because I was drunk, you knew more of medicine than I, and in that mad idea killed your patient. But I want you to know, that even if I am drunk, I still know more of medicine, than you do in all your sobriety. Now you send for two dozen oysters at once, and I’ll prove to you that even if I do drink a glass of wine, I know very well what I am talking about.” The oysters were brought, and at Heim’s order, were divided and placed into two separate dishes. To those in one dish he put several slices of Chester cheese; to the others he poured several glasses of rum. “Now, then,” he said, “you let that stuff stand for a few hours and we’ll see who knew best!”