Science fiction; Speculative fiction; United States -- Politics and government -- Fiction
The establishment was in reality a cross between a sanatorium and a
physical culture resort. The doctor-proprietor carefully examined
each person upon arrival and kept his directing eye upon him during
his stay. He prescribed the diet and the exercise suited to each case
and saw to it personally that his instructions were carried out.
Many a wreck of the city’s storm and stress had the Doctor sent back
to the metropolis renovated and renewed, and many were the haggard
devotees of late hours and city dissipation who had returned, after
a sojourn at the retreat, with vigor in their limbs and the hue of
health in their cheeks. In a word, the Doctor was a philanthropist,
at a hundred a week, who extended a haven of rest for human wrecks
and turned them out again on the high seas of life staunchly refitted
to renew the struggle. The Doctor himself, in fact, often referred
to his establishment as a haven of refuge, which nautical expression
was, perhaps, not inapt, inasmuch as the harbor in question was
not infrequently visited, in popular parlance, by “swells” and
“high-rollers.”
Dr. Belden himself was an exceedingly genial person, who well knew how
to keep his various guests amused and in good humor with themselves
and the world in general. The one subject which disturbed the Doctor’s
equanimity was the presence in the neighborhood of a recently
established private asylum for the insane maintained by a Dr. Weldon.
The similarity between the names Weldon and Belden had led upon certain
occasions to various distressing and distinctly embarrassing mistakes.
Thus, when distinguished visitors had at times mentioned that they
were staying at Dr. Belden’s establishment, rustics of the neighboring
villages had been known to tap their heads significantly and adopt
either attitudes of alarm, or patronizing airs, as the case might be.
While little Reggie Smithers had been sojourning at Dr. Belden’s the
rumor had been circulated at his club that he was incarcerated in
an asylum for lunatics and a friendly wag had written him a letter
of condolence, in which he took occasion to remark parenthetically
that he had always entertained an innate conviction that Reggie would
eventually so wind up, at which Reggie had been exceedingly wroth
and had felt impelled to cut short his stay and return as quickly as
possible to the city, so as to give the lie to the rumor.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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