A Night Out, A Forgotten Medical Crisis

A man’s wife sent him uptown for something early in the evening. On his way, he met a friend, and they spent a half-hour in an animated dispute as to whether Hayes or Tilden had the best chance for an election, and, when he had left his friend, he had entirely forgotten what Maria had sent him after. It was in vain that he tried to think up his forgotten errand. For three long, weary hours, he wandered around from saloon to saloon, seeking to stimulate his unreachable brain and pick up his memory. 'Twas no use. The more he stimulated, the more he didn't remember. He hated to go home and acknowledge as much to his wife, and so he just dropped in on his friends to gather their sympathy. After he had managed to scrape considerable of the article together, and just as the chimes of St. Xavier Church were chiming the midnight hour, the telegraph editor opened a dispatch and remarked that the Associated Press announced the death of Dr.—, the famous physician of [Town Name Redacted]. 'By the jumping Juniper Jupiter, I remember now,' said the visitor, rising from his chair and turning as white as a cholera patient; 'I remember now. My wife had the cramp-colic and sent me to bring the doctor! D—n politics! I wonder if she’s alive yet!' And he shot out of that door for that doctor without staying to hear what the changes were in New York.