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7 <title>Chapter 1</title>
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13 <div class="center"><img class="wideimg" src="images/header1.gif" alt="Three Men in a Boat
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14 (TO SAY NOTHING OF THE DOG)" />
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17 <hr class="spacing" />
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19 <p class="blockquote">Three Invalids. - Sufferings of George
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20 and Harris. - A victim to one hundred and seven fatal maladies. -
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21 Useful prescriptions. - Cure for liver complaint in children. - We
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22 agree that we are overworked, and need rest. - A week on the rolling
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23 deep? - George suggests the river. - Montmorency lodges an objection. -
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24 Original motion carried by majority of three to one.</p>
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26 <div class="lettrine"><img src="images/t.gif" alt="T" /></div>
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27 <p class="initial"><span class="first">HERE</span> were four of us — George, and William Samuel Harris, and myself, and Montmorency. We were sitting in my room, smoking, and talking about how bad we were — bad from a medical point of view I mean, of course.</p>
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29 <p>We were all feeling seedy, and
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30 we were getting quite nervous about it. Harris said he felt such extraordinary
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31 fits of giddiness come over him at times, that he hardly knew what he was
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32 doing; and then George said that <em>he</em> had fits of giddiness too, and
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33 hardly knew what <em>he</em> was doing. With me, it was my liver that was
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34 out of order. I knew it was my liver that was out of order, because I had
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35 just been reading a patent liver-pill circular, in which were detailed the
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36 various symptoms by which a man could tell when his liver was out of order.
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38 <p>It is a most extraordinary thing, but I never read a patent medicine advertisement without being impelled to the conclusion that I am suffering from the particular disease therein dealt with in its most virulent form. The diagnosis seems in every case to correspond exactly with all the sensations that I have ever felt.</p>
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40 <p><img class="ir" src="images/pg002.gif" alt="" />I remember going to the British Museum one
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41 day to read up the treatment for some slight ailment of which I had a
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42 touch — hay fever, I fancy it was. I got down the book, and read all I
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43 came to read; and then, in an unthinking moment, I idly turned the
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44 leaves, and began to indolently study diseases, generally. I forget
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45 which was the first distemper I plunged into — some fearful,
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46 devastating scourge, I know — and, before I had glanced half down the
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47 list of “premonitory symptoms,” it was borne in upon me that I had
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50 <p>I sat for awhile, frozen with horror; and then, in the listlessness of despair, I again turned over the pages. I came to typhoid fever - read the symptoms - discovered that I had typhoid fever, must have had it for months without knowing it - wondered what else I had got; turned up St. Vitus's Dance - found, as I expected, that I had that too, - began to get interested in my case, and determined to sift it to the bottom, and so started alphabetically - read up ague, and learnt that I was sickening for it, and that the acute stage would commence in about another fortnight. Bright's disease, I was relieved to find, I had only in a modified form, and, so far as that was concerned, I might live for years. Cholera I had, with severe complications; and diphtheria I seemed to have been born with. I plodded conscientiously through the twenty-six letters, and the only malady I could conclude I had not got was housemaid's knee. </p>
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52 <p>I felt rather hurt about this at first; it
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53 seemed somehow to be a sort of slight. Why hadn’t I got housemaid’s
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54 knee? Why this invidious reservation? After a while, however, less
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55 grasping feelings prevailed. I reflected that I had every other known
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56 malady in the pharmacology, and I grew less selfish, and determined to
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57 do without housemaid’s knee. Gout, in its most malignant stage, it
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58 would appear, had seized me without my being aware of it; and zymosis I
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59 had evidently been suffering with from boyhood. There were no more
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60 diseases after zymosis, so I concluded there was nothing else the
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63 <p>I sat and pondered. I thought what an
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64 interesting case I must be from a
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65 medical point of view, what an acquisition I should be to a class!
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66 Students would have no need to “walk the hospitals,” if they had me. I
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67 was a hospital in myself. All they need do would be to walk round me,
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68 and, after that, take their diploma.</p>
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70 <p>Then I wondered how long I had to live. I
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71 tried to examine myself. I felt my pulse. I could not at first feel any
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72 pulse at all. Then, all of a sudden, it seemed to start off. I pulled
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73 out my watch and timed it. I made it a hundred and forty-seven to the
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74 minute. I tried to feel my heart. I could not feel my heart. It had
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75 stopped beating. I have since been induced to come to the opinion that
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76 it must have been there all the time, and must have been beating, but I
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77 cannot account for it. I patted myself all over my front, from what I
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78 call my waist up to my head, and I went a bit round each side, and a
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79 little way up the back. But I could not feel or hear anything. I tried
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80 to look at my tongue. I stuck it out as far as ever it would go, and I
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81 shut one eye, and tried to examine it with the other. I could only see
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82 the tip, and the only thing that I could gain from that was to feel
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83 more certain than before that I had scarlet fever.
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86 <p><img class="ir" src="images/pg005.gif" alt="" />I had walked into that reading-room a happy, healthy man. I crawled out a decrepit wreck.</p>
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88 <p>I went to my medical man. He is an old chum
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89 of mine, and feels my pulse, and looks at my tongue, and talks about
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90 the weather, all for nothing, when I fancy I’m ill; so I thought I
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91 would do him a good turn by going to him now. “What a doctor wants,” I
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92 said, “is practice. He shall have me. He will get more practice out of
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93 me than out of seventeen hundred of your ordinary, commonplace
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94 patients, with only one or two diseases each.” So I went straight up
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95 and saw him, and he said:
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97 <p>“Well, what’s the matter with you?”</p>
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98 <p>I said: “I will not take up your time, dear boy, with telling you what is the
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99 matter with me. Life is brief, and you might pass away before I had finished. But I will tell you what is <em>not</em>
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100 the matter with me. I have not got housemaid’s knee. Why I have not got
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101 housemaid’s knee, I cannot tell you; but the fact remains that I have
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102 not got it. Everything else, however, I <em>have</em> got.”</p>
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104 <p>And I told him how I came to discover it all.</p>
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106 <p>Then he opened me and looked down me, and clutched hold of my wrist, and
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107 then he hit me over the chest when I wasn’t expecting it — a cowardly
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108 thing to do, I call it — and immediately afterwards butted me with the
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109 side of his head. After that, he sat down and wrote out a prescription,
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110 and folded it up and gave it me, and I put it in my pocket and went out.</p>
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112 <p>I did not open it. I took it to the nearest chemist’s, and handed it in.
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113 The man read it, and then handed it back.</p>
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115 <p>He said he didn’t keep it.
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117 </p><p>I said: “You are a chemist?”
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119 </p><p>He said: “I am a chemist. If I was a co-operative stores and family hotel
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120 combined, I might be able to oblige you. Being only a chemist hampers
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123 <p>I read the prescription. It ran:</p>
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124 <div class="poetry">
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125 <p>“1 lb. beefsteak, with</p>
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126 <p>1 pt. bitter beer</p>
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127 <p class="indented">every 6 hours.</p>
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128 <p>1 ten-mile walk every morning.</p>
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129 <p>1 bed at 11 sharp every night.</p>
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131 <p>And don’t stuff up your head with things you don’t understand.”</p></div>
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133 <p>I followed the directions, with the happy result — speaking for myself — that my life was preserved, and is still going on.</p>
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135 <p>In the present instance, going back to the liver-pill circular, I had the
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136 symptoms, beyond all mistake, the chief among them being “a general disinclination to work of any kind.”</p>
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138 <p>What I suffer in that way no tongue can
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139 tell. From my earliest infancy I have been a martyr to it. As a boy,
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140 the disease hardly ever left me for a day. They did not know, then,
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141 that it was my liver. Medical science was in a far less advanced state
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142 than now, and they used to put it down to laziness.</p>
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144 <p>“Why, you skulking little devil, you,” they
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145 would say, “get up and do something for your living, can’t you?” — not
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146 knowing, of course, that I was ill.</p>
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147 <p>And they didn’t give me pills; they gave me
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148 clumps on the side of the head. And, strange as it may appear, those
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149 clumps on the head often cured me — for the time being. I have known
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150 one clump on the head have more effect upon my liver, and make me feel
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151 more anxious to go straight away then and there, and do what was wanted
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152 to be done, without further loss of time, than a whole box of pills
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155 <p>You know, it often is so — those simple, old-fashioned remedies are sometimes more efficacious than all the dispensary stuff.</p>
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157 <p>We sat there for half-an-hour, describing to
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158 each other our maladies. I explained to George and William Harris how I
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159 felt when I got up in the morning, and William Harris told us how he
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160 felt when he went to bed; and George stood on the hearth-rug, and gave
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161 us a clever and powerful piece of acting, illustrative of how he felt
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163 <p>George <em>fancies</em> he is ill; but there’s never anything really the matter
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164 with him, you know.</p>
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166 <p>At this point, Mrs. Poppets knocked at the
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167 door to know if we were ready for supper. We smiled sadly at one
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168 another, and said we supposed we had better try to swallow a bit.
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169 Harris said a little something in one’s stomach often kept the disease
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170 in check; and Mrs. Poppets brought the tray in, and we drew up to the
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171 table, and toyed with a little steak and onions, and some rhubarb tart.</p>
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173 <p>I must have been very weak at the time;
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174 because I know, after the first half-hour or so, I seemed to take no
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175 interest whatever in my food — an unusual thing for me — and I didn’t
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176 want any cheese.</p>
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178 <p>This duty done, we refilled our glasses,
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179 lit our pipes, and resumed the discussion upon our state of health.
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180 What it was that was actually the matter with us, we none of us could
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181 be sure of; but the unanimous opinion was that it — whatever it was -
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182 had been brought on by overwork.</p>
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184 <p>“What we want is rest,” said Harris.</p>
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186 <p>“Rest and a complete change,” said George.
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187 “The overstrain upon our brains has produced a general depression
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188 throughout the system. Change of scene, and absence of the necessity
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189 for thought, will restore the mental equilibrium.”</p>
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191 <p>George has a cousin, who is usually
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192 described in the charge-sheet as a medical student, so that he
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193 naturally has a somewhat family-physicianary way of putting things.</p>
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195 <p>I agreed with George, and suggested that we
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196 should seek out some retired and old-world spot, far from the madding
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197 crowd, and dream away a sunny week among its drowsy lanes — some
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198 half-forgotten nook, hidden away by the fairies, out of reach of the
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199 noisy world — some quaint-perched eyrie on the cliffs of Time, from
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200 whence the surging waves of the nineteenth century would sound far-off
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203 <p>Harris said he thought it would be humpy.
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204 He said he knew the sort of place I meant; where everybody went to bed
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205 at eight o’clock, and you couldn’t get a <em>Referee</em> for love or money, and had to walk ten miles to get your baccy.</p>
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207 <p>“No,” said Harris, “if you want rest and change, you can’t beat a sea trip.”</p>
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209 <p>I objected to the sea trip strongly. A sea
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210 trip does you good when you are going to have a couple of months of it,
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211 but, for a week, it is wicked.</p>
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213 <p>You start on Monday with the idea implanted
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214 in your bosom that you are going to enjoy yourself. You wave an airy
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215 adieu to the boys on shore, light your biggest pipe, and swagger about
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216 the deck as if you were Captain Cook, Sir Francis Drake, and
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217 Christopher Columbus all rolled into one. On Tuesday, you wish you
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218 hadn’t come. On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, you wish you were
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219 dead. On Saturday, you are able to swallow a little beef tea, and to
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220 sit up on deck, and answer with a wan, sweet smile when kind-hearted
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221 people ask you how you feel now. On Sunday, you
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222 begin to walk about again, and take solid food. And on Monday morning,
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223 as, with your bag and umbrella in your hand, you stand by the gunwale,
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224 waiting to step ashore, you begin to thoroughly like it.</p>
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226 <p>I remember my brother-in-law going for a
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227 short sea trip once, for the benefit of his health. He took a return
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228 berth from London to Liverpool; and when he got to Liverpool, the only
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229 thing he was anxious about was to sell that return ticket.</p>
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231 <p>It was offered round the town at a
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232 tremendous reduction, so I am told; and was eventually sold for
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233 eighteenpence to a bilious-looking youth who had just been advised by
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234 his medical men to go to the sea-side, and take exercise.</p>
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236 <p>“Sea-side!” said my brother-in-law,
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237 pressing the ticket affectionately into his hand; “why, you’ll have
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238 enough to last you a lifetime; and as for exercise! why, you’ll get
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239 more exercise, sitting down on that ship, than you would turning
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240 somersaults on dry land.”</p>
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242 <p>He himself — my brother-in-law — came back by train. He said the North-Western Railway was healthy enough for him.</p>
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244 <p>Another fellow I knew went for a week’s
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245 voyage round the coast, and, before they started, the steward came to
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246 him to ask whether he would pay for each meal as he had it, or arrange
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247 beforehand for the whole series.</p>
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248 <p>The steward recommended the latter course,
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249 as it would come so much cheaper. He said they would do him for the
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250 whole week at two pounds five. He said for breakfast there would be
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251 fish, followed by a grill. Lunch was at one, and consisted of four
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252 courses. Dinner at six — soup, fish, entree, joint, poultry, salad,
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253 sweets, cheese, and dessert. And a light meat supper at ten.
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256 <p>My friend thought he would close on the two-pound-five job (he is a hearty eater), and did so.</p>
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258 <p>Lunch came just as they were off Sheerness.
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259 He didn’t feel so hungry as he thought he should, and so contented
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260 himself with a bit of boiled beef, and some strawberries and cream. He
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261 pondered a good deal during the afternoon, and at one time it seemed to
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262 him that he had been eating nothing but boiled beef for weeks, and at
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263 other times it seemed that he must have been living on strawberries and
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264 cream for years.</p>
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266 <p>Neither the beef nor the strawberries and cream seemed happy, either — seemed discontented like.</p>
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268 <p>At six, they came and told him dinner was
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269 ready. The announcement aroused no enthusiasm within him, but he felt
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270 that there was some of that two-pound-five to be worked off, and he
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271 held on to ropes and things and went down. A pleasant odour of onions
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272 and hot ham, mingled with fried fish and greens, greeted him at the
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273 bottom of the ladder; and then the steward came up with an oily smile,
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275 <p>“What can I get you, sir?”</p>
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277 <p>“Get me out of this,” was the feeble reply.</p>
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279 <div><img class="ir" src="images/pg013.gif" alt="" /></div>
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280 <p>And they ran him up quick, and propped him up, over to leeward, and left him.</p>
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282 <p>For the next four days he lived a simple and
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283 blameless life on thin captain’s biscuits (I mean that the biscuits
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284 were thin, not the captain) and soda-water; but, towards Saturday, he
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285 got uppish, and went in for weak tea and dry toast, and on Monday he
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286 was gorging himself on chicken broth. He left the ship on Tuesday, and
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287 as it steamed away from the landing-stage he gazed after it
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290 <p>“There she goes,” he said, “there she goes, with two pounds’ worth of food on board that belongs to me, and that I haven’t had.”</p>
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292 <p>He said that if they had given him another day he thought he could have put it straight.</p>
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294 <p>So I set my face against the sea trip. Not,
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295 as I explained, upon my own account. I was never queer. But I was
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296 afraid for George. George said he should be all right, and would rather
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297 like it, but he would advise Harris and me not to think of it, as he
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298 felt sure we should both be ill. Harris said that, to himself, it was
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299 always a mystery how people managed to get sick at sea — said he
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300 thought people must do it on purpose, from affectation — said he had
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301 often wished to be, but had never been able.</p>
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303 <p>Then he told us anecdotes of how he had
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304 gone across the Channel when it was so rough that the passengers had to
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305 be tied into their berths, and he and the captain were the only two
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306 living souls on board who were not ill. Sometimes it was he and the
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307 second mate who were not ill; but it was generally he and one other
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308 man. If not he and another man, then it was he by himself.</p>
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310 <p>It is a curious fact, but nobody ever is
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311 sea-sick — on land. At sea, you come across plenty of people very bad
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312 indeed, whole boat-loads of them; but I never met a man yet, on land,
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313 who had ever known at all what it was to be sea-sick. Where the
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314 thousands upon thousands of bad sailors that swarm in every ship hide
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315 themselves when they are on land is a mystery.</p>
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317 <p>If most men were like a fellow I saw on the
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318 Yarmouth boat one day, I could account for the seeming enigma easily
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319 enough. It was just off Southend Pier, I recollect, and he was leaning
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320 out through one of the port-holes in a very dangerous position. I went
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321 up to him to try and save him.</p>
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323 <p>“Hi! come further in,” I said, shaking him by the shoulder. “You’ll be overboard.”</p>
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325 <p>“Oh my! I wish I was,” was the only answer I could get; and there I had to leave him.</p>
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327 <p>Three weeks afterwards, I met him in the
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328 coffee-room of a Bath hotel, talking about his voyages, and explaining,
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329 with enthusiasm, how he loved the sea.</p>
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331 <p>“Good sailor!” he replied in answer to a mild young man’s envious query; “well, I did feel a little queer <em>once</em>, I confess. It was off Cape Horn. The vessel was wrecked the next morning.”</p>
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333 <p>I said: “Weren’t you a little shaky by Southend Pier one day, and wanted to be
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334 thrown overboard?”</p>
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336 <p>“Southend Pier!” he replied, with a puzzled expression.</p>
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338 <p>“Yes; going down to Yarmouth, last Friday three weeks.”</p>
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340 <p>“Oh, ah — yes,” he answered, brightening up;
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341 “I remember now. I did have a headache that afternoon. It was the
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342 pickles, you know. They were the most disgraceful pickles I ever tasted
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343 in a respectable boat. Did you have any?”</p>
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345 <p>For myself, I have discovered an excellent
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346 preventive against sea-sickness, in balancing myself. You stand in the
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347 centre of the deck, and, as the ship heaves and pitches, you move your
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348 body about, so as to keep it always straight. When the front of the
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349 ship rises, you lean forward, till the deck almost touches your nose;
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350 and when its back end gets up, you lean backwards. This is all very
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351 well for an hour or two; but you can’t balance yourself for a week.</p>
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353 <p>George said:</p>
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354 <p> “Let’s go up the river.”</p>
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356 <p>He said we should have fresh air, exercise
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357 and quiet; the constant change of scene would occupy our minds
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358 (including what there was of Harris’s); and the hard work would give us
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359 a good appetite, and make us sleep well.</p>
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361 <p>Harris said he didn’t think George ought to
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362 do anything that would have a tendency to make him sleepier than he
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363 always was, as it might be dangerous.</p>
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365 <p>He said he didn’t very well understand how
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366 George was going to sleep any more than he did now, seeing that there
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367 were only twenty-four hours in each day, summer and winter alike; but
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368 thought that if he <em>did</em> sleep any more, he might just as well be dead, and so save his board and lodging.</p>
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370 <p>Harris said, however, that the river would suit him to a “T.” I don’t
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371 know what a “T” is (except a sixpenny one, which includes bread-and-
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372 butter and cake <em>ad lib.</em>, and is cheap at the price, if you haven’t had
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373 any dinner). It seems to suit everybody, however, which is greatly to
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376 <div><img class="ir" src="images/pg017.gif" alt="" /></div>
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377 <p>It suited me to a “T” too, and Harris and I both said it was a good idea
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378 of George’s; and we said it in a tone that seemed to somehow imply that
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379 we were surprised that George should have come out so sensible.
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382 <p>The only one who was not struck with the suggestion was Montmorency. He never did care for the river, did Montmorency.</p>
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384 <p>“It’s all very well for you fellows,” he
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385 says; “you like it, but I don’t. There’s nothing for me to do. Scenery
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386 is not in my line, and I don’t smoke. If I see a rat, you won’t stop;
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387 and if I go to sleep, you get fooling about with the boat, and slop me
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388 overboard. If you ask me, I call the whole thing bally foolishness.”</p>
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390 <p>We were three to one, however, and the motion was carried.</p>
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