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- 2026-01-30T20:48:15.152Z
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- 6947
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- CHAPTER L.
SOMETHING HAPPENS TO LONG GHOST
We will now return to the narrative.
The day before the Julia sailed, Dr. Johnson paid his last call. He was
not quite so bland as usual. All he wanted was the men’s names to a
paper, certifying to their having received from him sundry medicaments
therein mentioned. This voucher, endorsed by Captain Guy, secured his
pay. But he would not have obtained for it the sailors’ signs manual,
had either the doctor or myself been present at the time.
Now, my long friend wasted no love upon Johnson; but, for reasons of
his own, hated him heartily: all the same thing in one sense; for
either passion argues an object deserving thereof. And so, to be hated
cordially, is only a left-handed compliment; which shows how foolish it
is to be bitter against anyone.
For my own part, I merely felt a cool, purely incidental, and passive
contempt for Johnson, as a selfish, mercenary apothecary, and hence, I
often remonstrated with Long Ghost when he flew out against him, and
heaped upon him all manner of scurrilous epithets. In his professional
brother’s presence, however, he never acted thus; maintaining an
amiable exterior, to help along the jokes which were played.
I am now going to tell another story in which my long friend figures
with the physician: I do not wish to bring one or the other of them too
often upon the stage; but as the thing actually happened, I must relate
it.
A few days after Johnson presented his bill, as above mentioned, the
doctor expressed to me his regret that, although he (Johnson) had
apparently been played off for our entertainment, yet, nevertheless, he
had made money out of the transaction. And I wonder, added the doctor,
if that now he cannot expect to receive any further pay, he could be
induced to call again.
By a curious coincidence, not five minutes after making this
observation, Doctor Long Ghost himself fell down in an unaccountable
fit; and without asking anybody’s leave, Captain Bob, who was by, at
once dispatched a boy, hot foot, for Johnson.
Meanwhile, we carried him into the Calabooza; and the natives, who
assembled in numbers, suggested various modes of treatment. One rather
energetic practitioner was for holding the patient by the shoulders,
while somebody tugged at his feet. This resuscitatory operation was
called the “Potata”; but thinking our long comrade sufficiently lengthy
without additional stretching, we declined potataing him.
Presently the physician was spied coming along the Broom Road at a
great rate, and so absorbed in the business of locomotion, that he
heeded not the imprudence of being in a hurry in a tropical climate. He
was in a profuse perspiration; which must have been owing to the warmth
of his feelings, notwithstanding we had supposed him a man of no heart.
But his benevolent haste upon this occasion was subsequently accounted
for: it merely arose from professional curiosity to behold a case most
unusual in his Polynesian practice. Now, under certain circumstances,
sailors, generally so frolicsome, are exceedingly particular in having
everything conducted with the strictest propriety. Accordingly, they
deputed me, as his intimate friend, to sit at Long Ghost’s head, so as
to be ready to officiate as “spokesman” and answer all questions
propounded, the rest to keep silent.
“What’s the matter?” exclaimed Johnson, out of breath, and bursting
into the Calabooza: “how did it happen?—speak quick!” and he looked at
Long Ghost.
I told him how the fit came on.
“Singular”—he observed—“very: good enough pulse;” and he let go of it,
and placed his hand upon the heart.
“But what’s all that frothing at the mouth?” he continued; “and bless
me! look at the abdomen!”
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