Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 41, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 July 1875 — TOMMY’S TREATMENT. [ARTICLE]

TOMMY’S TREATMENT.

“ Mamma, I want some jam.” “ No, Tommy, not this morning. Eat your bread and milk,” Mis. -Harris spoke decidedly. “ Yes,” whined Tommy, with a most unbecoming pout on his red lips, and a rebellious fire in his eyes. “ Can’t I, papa?” “ You heard what your mother said, my son,” said his father, slowly stirring his coffee. “I will have some jam!” screamed Tommy, defiantly, “ and I won’t eat that nasty old bread and milk; so, there!” “Tommy!” said his father, sternly, reaching toward the bell. Crash! The china bowl lay in pieces on the floor, and Tommy’s bread and milk streaming over the carpet. In a moment the servant had borne him, kicking and screaming, from the room. Mrs. Harris looked at hex husband despairingly. “Where did that child get his temper?” “ Not from you, my dear, I am sure, and I can’t remember that I ever had such tantrums. I should have been soundly horse-whipped if such had been the case, and serve me right. Something must be done with the boy. He gets worse and worse,” and Mr. Harris pushed his chair back impatiently and left the table. All this time Uncle Charlie had not spoken. Now he said: "“Give Tommy up to me to-day and I’ll warrant a cure.” Mrs. Harris looked incredulous. “You’ll have nothing to do with him,” said Uncle Charlie again; “I’ll undertake his management,” and he laughed heartily. “ Very well,” replied his sister. “ I’ve been wanting to go over to mother’s for a day--—” “Now’s your chance; only don’t let Tommy know you’re going.” And so it happened that when, an hour afterward, Tommy came sullenly down stairs, mamma wasn’t to be found. “Mamma!” he shouted, stamping his foot in a rage, “where be you?” but of course there was no answer. Then he rushed to the library and slammed the door open savagely. Uncle Charlie was there reading the morning paper. He didn’t look up when Tommy burst in so unceremoniously, which fact rather surprised the young gentleman, who had alw r ays been accustomed to carry things by storm. “Where’s mamma?” he demanded, fiercely, looking aa a young savage minus his war-paint might be supposed to. No answer. Uncle Charlie looked up as if surprised. , ■ . “Where’s my mamma, I say?” yelled Tommy again, the veins in his throat standing out like great whip-cords. “ I’ll strike you if you don’t tell.” Uncle Charlie’s look of surprise changed to one of pity, Tommy fancied. He softened his voice a little. “ Won’t you tell me where mammais?” “Oh, is it you, Tommy? I wasn’t sure. 4 Your mother has gone over to grandma’s.” Tommy’s black eyes flashed, and his fists doubled themselves up tightly—ominous signs with him. “ Gone to grandma’s ’ithout me? Why didn’t she let me go? What? what? Oh-o-o-o!” and over Tommywent, flat onhis back, and his copper-toed boots began to fiv against the door, the wall —wherever they happened to hit. Uncle Charlie calmly laid down his paper, pulled the bell-rope, puton a pair of thick buckskin gloves, and walked toward Tommy, looking at him queerly. Just then the servant made his appearance. “ Go for Dr. Merriman as quick as possible, John; I fear poor Tommy has a maniacal attack.” . “ Poor Tommy” stopped kicking and screaming long enough to wonder what sort of a thing a “maniacal attach” was. Something very bad, he had no doubt. Uncle Charlie was watching him anxiously, and Tommy began to feel a little uneasy. So they remained, Tommy kicking with all his might—and it wasn’t a small might, I assure you—and Uncle Charlie’s eyes" fixed gravely and steadily upon him, until Dr. Merriman came. He was a queer little man, with a

round,, jolly face, 'and a keen sense of humor. Tommy was a great favorite of his. “A fine boy, fine boy,” he was wont to remark, “if ’twern’t for those tantrums.” He took in the situation at a glance. “Oh! I see, I see!” he said, rubbing his hands together briskly. “ A clear case of temporary aberration. Poor little fellow —is madness hereditary in your family?” This to Uncle Charles, who still kept his grave eyes fixed on Tommy. If Tommy was astonished before, he was thunderstruck now. His heels lay still for a moment. “ Now, you see, doc ” he began. “ Yes, my boy, I know,” said the doctor, quietly. “ Which room shall you put him in, Mr. Charlie?” “ The large one in the south wing, I think. You’ll need gloves, Dr. Merriman,” displaying his own hands; “ he’ll be apt to bite.” So they took Tommy between them, striking and pinching, and screaming at the top of his lungs, to the room in the south wing. Then, while Uncle Charlie undressed him, Dr. Merriman went to prepare some medicine suitable for his “ case.” “ There,” coming in after Uncle Charlie (despite “ poor Tommy’s” repeated declarations that “he wouldn’t go—no, sir!”) had placed him safely in bed, “ there, we’ll give him this now,” and straightway Tommy’s mouth was opened and a generous quantity of wormwood tea poured down his unwilling throat. “Oh! Oush! Oh-o-o-o!” he gasped, almost strangled. “ Yes, poor little boy!” the doctor said again, soothingly—“l think, Mr. Charles,’this attack will be of short duration. However, I should advise the application of mustard drafts to his feet, and above all keep his head cool. Give some of this (pointing to the wormwood tea) every fifteen minutes. If he is not more quiet (Tommy became suddenly quiet) at the end of an hour send for me;” and the doctor went out, followed by Uncle Charlie, who locked the door after him. Tommy lay there, very still. I think an inkling of the cause of this strange proceeding flashed into his mind, for he gave a queer little gasping “Oh!” and shut his eyes tightly to keep the tears back. By and by Uncle Charlie opened the door.- Tommy was asleep, he thought, and he was backing out softly; “ Uncle Charlie!” came a little trembling voice from the bed. “Well, Tommy, are you better now?” “ I wasn’t sick, you know; only—only —mad. Just mad’ Uncle Charlie. ” “And don’t you know, my dear boy,” said Uncle Charlie, sitting down beside the bed—“ don’t you know, Tommy, that this same madness is the most dangerous sort of sickness? It makes murderers like the one you saw last spring—you remember. It causes men to be shunned by their fellows. Don’t you know that you, yourself, Toinmy, were being ruined by this madness ? That it was making us all very anxious and unhappy? and you yourself, too, Tommy? You are not happy when you’re naughty. Won’t you try and be good?" Tommy didn’t answer. Only a little stifled sob came up from the bed. “I’ll be up again soon, Tommy.” “Uncle Charlie?” “ What, my boy?” “ I’ll be good. I will,” sobbed the little fellow; “ and I want to see my mamma.” Tommy was fairly conquered. Uncle Charlie carried him over to grandma’s that afternoon aDd his mother declared he was a changed boy; but Tommy didn’t care to enlighten her as to the way in which the miracle was worked. It would be too much to say that he never has had another “ attack,” but he is improving every day. Still he thinks he doesn’t like to"be treated. Have you any Tommy at your house? —Lewiston Journal.