Adventures in Neurasthenia Page: 220
34, 145-278, 33-154 p. : ill. ; 25 cm.View a full description of this prose (fiction).
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Advntures in Neurasthenia
Of course there was nothing the matter
with me, but I wasv er ill. I couldn't work,l
sleep, eat, or bowl. 'I'he onl\ way I could
get any s- mpathy was to go \itiout shaving
for four days. Even then somebody would
say: "O)ld man, you look as hardy as a pine-
knot. ]ceen up for a jaunt in the Maine
woods, ch?"
'T'hen, suddenly, I remembered that I must
la\e tutloor air tandl exercise. So( I w\\ent
loiin South to John's. John is an applrox-
imate relative bv verdict of a preacher stand-
ing with a little Iook: in his hands in a bower
of chrsanthemumsw hiilea hundred thousand
people looked on. John has a country house
seven miles from Pineille. It is at an alti-
tlde and on the lIlue RidIge lMounttains in a
state too dignilcl to Ie dragged into this
control\ crs. lohn is minu, which is more
valuatllce and clc'arer than gitold. lIe met me
at I'ineville, and we took, the trollce-car to his
home. It is a bii, nceighborless cottage on a
hill surroundel )v a ]hundred mountains. We
got olf at his little priv ate station w here John's
fail and A\marvllis met and greeted us.
Amaryllis looked at me a trifle anxiously.
A rabbIit came bounding across the hill lbe-
SWeen usi and the ho ,use. I threw down my
suit-ease and pursued it hotfoot. After I had
run twenty calls andl seen it disappear, I sat
ldon on the grass and wept disconsolately.
" I can't catch a rabbit any more," I sobbedl.
SI'm of no further use in the world. I may
ais well bie deadl."
"(li, what is it what is it, Brother John?"l
1 hertd Amaryllis say.
"Nerves a little unstrung," said John, in
his cahl way. " don'tt worry. (;Ct up, you
rblbit-chaser, and come on to the house
bIefoic tlih iscuits get com." It was about
twilight, alnd the mouintins came up nolly
to bliss iurfrec's descriptions of them.
Soon after dinner I announced that I be-
liceed I could sleep for a year or t\wo, includ-
ing legal holidays. So I was shown to a room
as big and cool as a tlower-garden. where
there was a bed as broad as a lawn. Soon
afterward the remainder of the household re-
tircel, and then there fell upon the land a
silence.
I had not heard a silence before in years.
It wss lsolute. I raised myscf on my ellbow
and lisetnced to it. Sleep, I thought that if
1 only could hear a star twinkle or a Ilade of
grass sharpen itself I coul compose myself
to rest. I thought once that I heard a found like
the >ail of a oi tt hu aipping as it record aboutin a breeze, but 1 decided that it was proiiabtl
only a tack in the carpet. Still I listened.
Suddenly some belated little bird alighted
upon the window-sill, and, in what he no
doubt considered sleepy tones, enunciated
the noise generally translated as "cheep"
I leaped into the air.
"Ilc what's the matter down there?"
called John from his room above mine.
"O)h, nothing," I answered, "except that
I accidentally bumped my head against the
ceiling."
The next morning I went out on the porci
and looked at the mountains. There were
forty-seven of them in sight. I shuddered,
went into the big hall sitting-room of the
house, selected ' Pancoast's Family Practice
of Medicine" from a bookcase, and h gan to
read. John came in, took the book away
from me, and led me outside. lie has a farli
of three hundred acres furnished with the
usual complement of barns, mules, peasantr,
and harrows with three front teeth broken off.
I had seen such things in my childhood, and
my heart began to sink.
Then John spoke of alfalfa, and I bright-
ened at once. '()h, yes," said 1, "wasn't
she in the chorus of) let's see "
"G(;reen, ou know," said John, "and ten-
tder, and you plow it under after the irat
season."
"I know," said I, "atnd the grass grows
over her.'
"Right," said John. "You know some-
thing about farming, after all."
"I know something of some farmers,' said
I, "and a sure scythe will moxw them down
some day."
)n the way back to the house a beautiful
and inexplicable creature walked across our
path. I stopped, irresistibly fascinated, gaz-
ing at it. John waited patiently, smoking
his cigarette. lie is a modern farmer. \fter
ten minutes he said: "Are you going to stand
there looking at that chicken all day? Break-
fast is nearly reade"
"A\ chicken?" said I.
"A White ()rpington hen, if you want to
particularize."
"A White ()Orpington hen?" I repeated.
with intense interest. The fowl walked
slowly away with graceful dignity, tnd I fol-
lowed lile a child after the Pied Piper. Five
minutes more were allowed me by John. and
then he took me by the sleeve and conducted
me to breakfast.
afterr I had been there a weel;k I gan to
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Henry, O., 1862-1910. Adventures in Neurasthenia, prose (fiction), July 1910; New York. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth139420/m1/7/: accessed March 28, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Austin History Center, Austin Public Library.