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truth appeared in the experience of my brother, who, after becoming the father of two girls. was particularly anxious for an heir. The venerable doctor of whom I spoke but a moment ago told me that he had predicted correctly the sex of six children in one family in which he practiced. for years. A farmer friend of his had been equally successful in predicting the sex of the calves that annually came to swell the size of his stock of cattle.

Certainly the theory is plausible. A knowledge of it would not in any way interfere with preserving the world's equilibrium, so far as an equal division of the sexes is concerned. I can hardly credit the idea that in the great scheme of creation the sex of offspring was left to be a mere matter of accident or chance. There must be some definite plan, some inexorable law.

Is this the plan or law? If so, carry the news to the boyless Czar of all the Russias.

Cincinnati, O.

G. M. R.

HIGHLAND COUNTY MEDICAL SOCIETY.

HILLSBORO, O., January 13, 1903. Editor LANCET-CLINIC:

The Highland County Medical Society met in Hillsboro, O., on Wednesday, January 7, 1903. The programme sent you at that time was carried out.

"The Physician: His Patience and Patients," Dr. H. A. Beeson.

"Chronic Goitre Catarrh," Dr. H. A. Russ.

"The Lorenz Method," Dr. Gilbert L. Bailey.

"Cancer of Uterus," Dr. Charles L. Bonifield.

This excellent programme was carried out and thoroughly enjoyed by over thirty physicians. The work of Drs. Bonifield and Bailey was enthusiastically received and enjoyed by all the doctors present. Although it was one of the worst days of the winter, yet some of the doctors came twenty and twenty-five miles to attend. We added five new members to our list. The doctors all partook of a delightful dinner at the Hotel Parker as guests of the local druggists. Over thirty physicians. were present and had a good time generally. J. C. LARKIN, Secretary.

EDISON-LELANDE BATTERY.

GLENDALE, January 14, 1903.

Editor CLINIC:

If you are still of the same mind as to advertising the electric battery for me, I will feel very grateful. The battery is made up of fifty porcelain cups, with battery attachments running up to a fiftypoint dial; is an Edison-Lelande make, oak cabinet, has never been used. The party to whom you sent me (Wocher's) had no use for this make of battery. I will sell it for any price you think I can get; was valued at $60.00 when new. Respectfully yours,

MRS. R.D. MUSSEY. [Anything reasonable for a physician's widow.]

Alcoholic Soap Solution as a Disinfectant for Surgical Instruments.

Dr. Karl Gerson (Deutsche Med. Wochenschrift, 1902, No. 43), as a sequel to previous bacteriological work on this subject, arrives at the conclusion that this is a reliable method of sterilization. The surgical instruments are tightly wound with absorbent cotton soaked in an alcoholic solution of soap, and thus kept until needed for use. They are thus without further preparation ready for operative purposes. For the envelopment of scissors and forceps the soaped cotton is laid between the blades of the instruments; they are then closed and the cotton wound tightly around them. The cotton covering has a double purpose; it disinfects a previously infected instrument, and what is more, keeps a sterile instrument from external contamination. After the alcohol evaporates the remaining soap agglutinating the fibers of the cotton forms a covering impermeable to air, on removal of which a thin protective film is also found covering the instrument, Instruments so treated are found to remain sterile for weeks. After use the instruments are washed in a soap solution and again prepared as before.-Med. Age.

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Miscellany.

MID-WINTER MEDICAL RHYMES AND JINGLES.

COLLECTED AND COLLATED BY T. C. M.

Microbes.

I've had the yaller janders till I looked like butterine;

I've had the fever'n ager till I turned a bluish green;

I've had th' rash an' measles an' I've had the varyloid,

I've had th' grip and shingles, an' a siege o' mean typhoid;

I've had th' wust lumbago that a feller ever had, I've had syattic rheumatiz, an' had it mighty bad; I've had them larinjeetuses an' tonsileetus, too, I've had appendy seetus till they carved me through an' through;

I've had th' mumps and tizzik-w'y they raised me on th' croup,

An' many a night in babyhood they thought I'd looped th' loop:

I've had chillblains an' bunions, had sore feet f'm spring t' fall

Jest trot out somepin I've not had-I-jings I've had 'em all!

An' now come all th' doctors with a theery nice an' new

That says all these diseases that has tackled me

an' you

Is caused by some poor squirmin' thing that gets beneath th' hide

An' never feels quite happy till its boardin' house has died;

They tell us that th' backache an' th' headache an' the blues,

Is hatched by some dumb'varmint that's crawling 'round yer flues;

They say that all ye haf t' do t' drive th' ailment off

That makes ye burn or shiver or lay 'wake at night an' cough

Is jest t' kill th' microbe that is doin' all th' dirt, An' after that ye'll never know that anything had hurt.

I'spose they're right, for most o' folks that's had their critters fix'd

Is deader than th' microbes-guess the doctors got 'em mixed.

I'se got a little idee of my own I'm goin' to spring

I hope th' doctor folks wont think I'm givin' 'em a string,

An' this is it: I reckon that this theery that they've got

About th' germs an' creepers which I think is tommyrot,

Is jest another sample of diseases that has come From them same little microbes 'bout as big as nothin's thumb.

I reckon that this bug disease that's rulin' all their minds,

About th' little varmints crawlin' underneath our rinds,

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The Man Behind the Knife.*

G. FRANK LYDSTON, M.D.

I've heard a pile of jawin',
An' guess I've read enuff,
'Bout bugs and an-to-septics,
An' all that kind o' stuff;
An' I've jest about concluded,
From all the talk and strife,
That the cure is mostly settled-

By the Man Behind the Knife.
Take a hand that's ever ready,

Tho' the skin is somewhat rough, With a nerve that's good and steady, An' a conscience not too tough, Then a feller needn't worry

'Bout losin' limb or life; He can trust 'em both completelyWith the Man Behind the Knife.

He may be a great purfessor,

Who does nothin' but purfess,
Er a good ole fashioned doctor,
What brags an' poses less;
The game is safe fer playin',
Tho' the table stakes is life,
If yer justified in trustin'-

The Man Behind the Knife.
When you've got appendicitis,
With McBurney's tender spot,
Er troubled with yer liver,

With its langwidge polly-glot,
Thar's little time fer foolin'
Er fer argyment or strife;
Yer only hope of safety-

Is the Man Behind the Knife.

As I said in the beginnin'

Uv this homely little rhyme, Discussions deep an' learned, Is jest a waste of time; Thar's no sense in theorizin'

When the stakes is human life; Fer the patient's fate is settled

By the Man Behind the Knife. S'pose you've got a whackin' tumor, In yer belly er yer brain, An' the microscope's a guessin', An' the case is fur frum plain; S'pose your child is lyin' sufferin', Er yer worried 'bout yer wife; You'll soon forget the scallops

Fer the Man Behind the Knife.

As it wuz in Santiago,

When we asked how it wuz done, Came a mighty shout in answer,

"Twuz the Man Behind the Gun!"

So in our operatin' an' savin' human life; Don't cheer the fuss an' feathers

But the Man Behind the Knife.

So I offer this suggestion,

Ter the wranglers, high an' low,

Who do so little cuttin',

But take it out in blow:

Jest quit yer fool discussin',

On the ways uv savin' life;

T'h-l with ink an' microbes

It's the Man Behind the Knife.

* Read at the Banquet of the Surgical Section of the A. M. A., at Saratoga, June 12, 1902.

The Man Behind the Knife.*
(New Version.)

GEORGE F. BUTLER, M.D.

I've heard a pile of jawin',

By physicians young and old,
Co's they do the diagnosin',
While the surgeons get the gold;
"I will not divide the fee
For the competition's rife;
There's hardly enough for me!"
Says the Man Behind the Knife.
Yes, the surgeon's hand is ready,

An' he's lookin' fer the stuff,
With a nerve that's strong an' steady,
An' a conscience mighty tough;
An' a feller need ter worry
'Bout losin' limb er life,
As well as all his money-

Ter the Man Behind the Knife.
He may be a great purfessor,
Standin' well up in the row,
Yet he differs frum the doctor,
Fer he's workin' fer the dough;
He thinks the game wuth playin',
An' he plays it fer yer life;
So if the money is wuth savin’—

Shake the Man Behind the Knife.
When you've got inflammation
In yer lung er in yer neck,
Don't hunt all o'er creation,

With a thousand-dollar check; Jest ter give a bloomin' surgeon, Who will trifle with yer life; But call yer fam'ly doctor!

Shun the Man Behind the Knife.

Of all the medical men,

The surgeon has the gall;
But the doctor is the squarest,
An' the safest of 'em all.
So you'd better think a while,
When yer guts are in a strife:
Take a dose uv casterile-

Not the Man Behind the Knife.
S'pose you've got a new disorder,
An' yer feelin' mighty blue;
Don't send fust thing fer a surgeon,
But the doctor, good an' true.
S'pose yer child is lyin' suff'rin',
Er yer worried 'bout yer wife;
Ef ye want to save her, then

Shun the Man Behind the Knife.

As it wuz in Santiago,

When we asked how it wuz done,
Came a mighty shout in answer,
"Twuz the Man Behind the Gun!"
Yes he wuz takin' human life,
Quite similar to the surgeon—
That Man Behind the Knife.

So I offer this suggestion,
Ter the sick folks, high an' low,
When anyone talks of cuttin',
Jest yer go a little slow.

Yer'd better swell up with dropsy,
Fer the rest o' yer natch'l life,
Than to furnish an autopsy-

Fer the Man Behind the Knife.

* Read at the Banquet of the Medical Section of the A. M. A., at Saratoga, June 12, 1902.

!

Modern Antiseptic Methods.*

BY GEO. S. HULL, PASADENA.

Little Tommy ran a splinter
Underneath his finger-nail,
Flowed his tears like April showers,
Like a March storm was his wail.

Tommy's grandma put her specs on;
"It is there, there ain't no doubt.
Wait. I'll get a piece of bacon,
That's the thing to draw it out."

But his mother brought the tweezers;
"See! I'll pull it out right straight."
But she pushed it in still further.
Tommy howled and struck a gait.

Then they sent for Dr. Werzol,
Up-to date M. D. from Yale.
Secundum Artem he went at it,
He was "never known to fail."

First he took his pond'rous case-book,
Wrote in it Tom's name and age;
Then his family history fully
Filling up an entire page.

Next his heart and lungs he sounded,
Tried to find disease in vain-
Tommy grew quite interested
And forgot about his pain.

Finally he dropped some ether
On a cloth and held it tight
Over Tommy's mouth and nostrils-
Tommy sailed clear out of sight.

Then he spread some sterile towels
Over Tom, well scrubbed and dried,
Washed the wound with strong bi-chloride,
Then let loose formaldehyde.

On the table gleamed his weapons
All aseptic to a T,

Had so many to select from,
Scratched his head, perplexed was he.

Scratched his head which wasn't sterile,
Stroked his beard in deepest thought;
Then he got to work instanter,
But to wash his hands-forgot.

Took a tourniquet and put it
On the boy's arm very tight,
Tried in vain each pair of forceps,
Wasn't one exactly right.

Used his scalpels and his scissors,
Cut the nail down to the quick;
But the thundering old splinter "
In its hiding place would stick.

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In despair he grabbed the tweezers,
Filled with germs of foul disease,
Caught the splinter at first trial,
Pulled it out with greatest ease.
"Keep the boy in bed, dear madam,
Till I tell you the danger's o'er."
Then he took the splinter with him,
He would learn about it more.

Read at the banquet of the Southern California Medical Society, Idyllwild, May 23, 1902.

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The Anti-Kissing Edict.

LINCOLN, NEB., October 24.-At the Convention of the Missouri Valley Homeopathic Association, Dr. E. G. Linn made an extended argument against kissing, arguing that it was a prolific source of microbic infection, and claiming that it was detrimental to health. He said that a handshake would be found to be an effective and satisfactory substitute.

Come hither, Dulcinea, let us read the doleful news;

Henceforth the chastest of salutes I firmly must refuse;

Henceforth thy lips as citadels by me shall not be stormed,

For of the dire results I have thus sternly been informed,

The rosy tempting of thy lips hath ever been much prized.

But, ah! 'Twould never be the same if they'

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Farewell the joys of wooing and farewell the dreams of bliss!

This is the doom of lovers, for we may not bolt a kiss! -Baltimore American.

The Very First Year He's Out.

G. T. P.

What an opulent thing

Is the medical king:

How proudly he wanders about! Far richer is he

Than again he will be:

It's the very first year he is out.

If we ask him by chance

Of his practice expanse

He will tell us with smile that is bland Of the way he is run From sun until sun,

How his praises are sung in the land.

Of the laps he's done,
Of the races he's won

With the ghastly old angel of death;
Of the cases in which,
For the famous and rich,

He has given back heart-beat and breath.

And he does not admit

That at noon he must sit

On a stool at a counter at lunch;

That sinkers and tea

The viands must be,

That this medical kinglet must munch.
-Chicago Clinic.

Madame La Grippe.

ALLISON WISHART, M.D.

For some weeks past a heartless flirt
Hath hovered 'round our country fair.
'Tis said from China first she came,
Or far-off steppes of Russia stern.
It matters not, o'er all the land
Coquetting visits she has paid.
We are told by science she is small,
Her head is red, and gauzy wings
Her filmy, boneless sides adorn,
Yet so minute is she it takes
A microscope of strongest power
Her flimsy body to discern.
Save those of very tenderest years
To clasp us all her pleasure gives,
Of either sex she cares not which,
Madame La Grippe delights to flirt
With maidens young, and maidens old,
And beardless boys, and aging men,
With hairless, smooth and shining heads;
Widows, with laughing, speaking eyes,
And widowers, sedate and glum,
Have trembled, coughed and sneezed
In Madame's icy cold embrace.
'Tho' not invited, she will come
And without warning seize us firm.
Like North Pole ice her hands are oft
The back unwelcome rested on,
And shivers send from head to foot;
The pulse is quiet, the head is full;
Neuralgic, aching pains severe,

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