not describe. I, who was a doctor, could not be mistaken, although, as
it chanced, I had never seen a case of smallpox before. The truth is
that, although I have no fear of any other human ailment, smallpox has
always terrified me.

For this I am not to blame. The fear is a part of my nature, instilled
into it doubtless by the shock which my mother received before my birth
when she learned that her husband had been attacked by this horrible
sickness. So great and vivid was my dread that I refused a very
good appointment at a smallpox hospital, and, although I had several
opportunities of attending these cases, I declined to undertake them,
and on this account suffered somewhat in reputation among those who knew
the facts. Indeed, my natural abhorrence went even further, as, to this
day, it is only with something of an effort that I can bring myself to
inspect the vesicles caused by vaccination. Whether this is because
of their similarity to those of smallpox, or owing to the natural
association which exists between them, I cannot tell. That it is real
enough, however, may be judged by the fact that, terrified as I was at
smallpox, and convinced as I have always been of the prophylactic power
of vaccination, I could never force myself--until an occasion to be told
of--to submit to it. In infancy, no doubt, I was vaccinated, for the
operation has left a small and very faint cicatrix on my arm, but
infantile vaccination, if unrepeated, is but a feeble protection in
later life.

Unconsciously I pulled upon the bridle, and the tired mule stopped.
"Malignant smallpox!" I muttered, "and that fool is trying to treat it
with cold water!"[*]

[*] Readers of Prescott may remember that when this terrible