Democratic Sentinel, Volume 18, Number 44, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 November 1894 — TOOTHACHE A SERIOUS AILMENT. [ARTICLE]

TOOTHACHE A SERIOUS AILMENT.

Jf in the Wood*, Far from Denting, It I Not to Be Lightly Regarded. Some one, in writing critically of novels, once said: “Who ever heard of the hero of a tale suffering from jaundice or mumps, or the heroine down with a toothache?” Who, to be sure, ever did? Jaundice and mumps and aching teeth are not romantic complaints. Even the realists prefer to omit them from the ills of their characters. Under certain circumstances they may, however, be serious ailments. Has anyone ever stopped to think seriously of the terrible torture suffered by backwoodsmen and inmates of logging camps from toothache? The complaint is by no means uncommon in the woods, happening scores of miles from any town in which relief might be obtained. Small wonder, then, that a toothache is regarded as a serious matter in the woods, and that instances are on record of loggers committing suicide rather than bear the pain. These facts were ascertained not long since from a number of guides in one of the most secluded portions of the Adiroudacks It suddenly occured to a gentleman, who made one of a well-equipped party, that he had omitted to make his regular annual call upon his dentist. This suggested the idea of making some inquiries. ■■What do you do?” asked he, “if you have a toothache up here?” “Well,” said his guide, repiying in that deliberate manner for which all woodsmen are noted, “well, that depends. If it is not a bad tootache we try to stand it.” “I suppose the doctors up here all take a hand at pulling teeth?” remarked the sportsman. “Yes,” was the reply, “but there ain’t no doctors up here nearer than Long Lake village or Indian Biver. There ain’t much choice between ’em. They’re both forty miles away. There ain’t no fillin’ teeth up here,” he continued. “We get ’em out if we can, or wait 'until the dentist comes. There’s one comes up to Long Lake about Christmas time each year and yanks teeth for two weeks. “I’ve known of men who tried to cut out the tooth with their knives or pull ’em out with carpenter’s pinchers. Once when I was loggin’ a fellow tied a lake trout line about his tcoth, bent down a sapling spruce and fastened the other end to it and let her go.” “Did the tooth come out?” asked the sportsman. “It did,” replied the guide, “and it dblocated the man’s jaw at the same time. He didn’t leave enough slack. He had to leave camp. There was another fellow who tied a string to a bullet; but that didn't go. The line snapped when he fired his rifle.” “You say a dentist comes to Long Lake once a year?” remarked the gentleman. “I suppose he does a pretty good business.” “Indeed he does,” replied the guide. “He pulled put most a bushel of teeth last year. Folks came from all parts of the woods to have ’em yanked. I know one fellow— Bob Walsh—who had all his teeth out Some of ’em ■ ached and some didn’t, but he said that sooner or later they’d all ache, and so he had ’em all out He didn’t see no occasion to make more than one job of it.”