“Your old mistress drinks whiskey, then, and has been without any two days?” “Yes, Mass' doctor, an' 'I 'spec it's that what's usen her ip, for she'd sorter got 'customed to de 'stranger.'” I had learned enough of the case to give me a suspicion of the disease; the verification must be deferred until I saw the patient. She being very old, nervous, and excitable, accustomed to alcoholic stimulation, suddenly deprived of her usual beverage, and brought under the depressory influences of losing her smoke-house and barrel of whiskey, was sufficient cause to produce a case of disease formed by an amalgamation of _sub-hysteria_ and _quasi delirium tremens_; a not very flattering diagnosis, considered in a moral point of view, to the old lady, whose acquaintance I was yet to make. Knowing how much depended upon the success with which I treated my first cases, it was unnecessary to give me a serious and reflective air, that I should remember how much people judged from appearances, and that mine were anything but indicative of the doctor; whiskers or beard had I none, and even when wearing the most sober mask, a smile would lurk at the corner of my mouth, eager to expand into a laugh. But I must start. Labelling a bottle of brandy “Arkansas Fitifuge,” I slipped it in my pocket, and mounting my horse, set off upon the fulfilment of my “first call.” When we reached the house, my horse reeking with sweat, from the haste with which we had traversed the muddy roads, I introduced myself, as I had never seen one of the family before, nor they me--as Doctor Tensas, and required to be shown the patient. I saw from the countenances of the assembly, which was more numerous than I had expected to find, that they were disappointed in the appearance of the new doctor, and that my unstriking and youthful visage was working fatally against me. In fact, as I approached the bed, which was surrounded with women, I heard one old crone remark “_sotto voce_,” “Blessed J------s! is that _thing_ a doctor? why, his face's as smooth as an eggshell, an' my son John 'peers a heap older than him, an' he's only been _pupped_ ateen years; grashus nose sich a young lookin' critter as that shuddent gin me doctor's truck; he can't have 'sperience, but sens he's here we'll have to let him go on; half a 'pology is better 'an no commisseration in an aggervated insult.” Paying no attention to her depreciatory remarks, but determined to show them that I knew a thing or two, I commenced examining the patient.