Blaisdell didn't know me at first; then he wanted
to know what my bill was; I told him one hundred dollars, to say
nothing of six years' interest; he said he had no money, though he
was regarded as a rich man, and in fact was.
"But sir," said I, "you see me and how poor I am. Give me something
on account. I am so poor that I even borrowed this overcoat from the
tailor in the village, that I might present a little more
respectable appearance when I called on my old patients to try to
collect some of my old bills. Please to give me something."
But he had no money. He would pay for the overcoat; I might tell the
tailor so; and afterwards he gave me a pair of boots and an old
shirt. This was the fruit which my "blossom" of years before brought
at last. I saw Mrs. Blaisdell, but she said she could do nothing for
me. She had forgotten what I had done for her.
Of all my bills in that vicinity, with a week's dunning, I collected
only three dollars; but a good friend of mine, Sheriff Hill, went
around and succeeded in making up a purse of twenty dollars which he
put into my hands just as I was going away. My old landlord wanted
nothing for my week's board; all he wanted was to know "if I ever
cured anybody;" and when I told him I did, "sometimes" he insisted
upon my taking more of his medicine, and he put up a good bottle of
it for me to carry with me on my journey.
With my twenty dollars I went to Portsmouth, where I speedily felt
that I was among old and true friends.
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