FOCATION FROM INHALING SMOKE OR GAS.--There is nothing better
than flaxseed. Place a few seed in the outer corner of the eye.

I shoved the Handbook back in my pocket, and grabbed a boy that was
running by.

"Here," says I, giving him some money, "run to the drug store and
bring a dollar's worth of flaxseed. Hurry, and you'll get another
one for yourself. Now," I sings out to the crowd, "we'll have Mrs.
Sampson!" And I throws away my coat and hat.

Four of the firemen and citizens grabs hold of me. It's sure death,
they say, to go in the house, for the floors was beginning to fall
through.

"How in blazes," I sings out, kind of laughing yet, but not feeling
like it, "do you expect me to put flaxseed in a eye without the eye?"

I jabbed each elbow in a fireman's face, kicked the bark off of one
citizen's shin, and tripped the other one with a side hold. And then I
busted into the house. If I die first I'll write you a letter and tell
you if it's any worse down there than the inside of that yellow house
was; but don't believe it yet. I was a heap more cooked than the
hurry-up orders of broiled chicken that you get in restaurants. The
fire and smoke had me down on the floor twice, and was about to shame
Herkimer, but the firemen helped me with their little stream of water,
and I got to Mrs. Sampson's room. She'd lost conscientiousness from
the smoke, so I wrapped her in the bed clothes and got her on my
shoulder. Well, the floors wasn't as bad as they said, or I never
could have done it--not by no means.

I carried her out fifty yards from the house and laid her on the
grass. Then, of course, every one of them other twenty-two plaintiff's
to the lady's hand crowded around with tin dippers of water ready to
save her. And up runs the boy with the flaxseed.

I unwrapped the covers from Mrs. Sampson's head. She opened her eyes
and says:

"Is that you, Mr. Pratt?"

"S-s-sh," says I. "Don't talk till you've had the remedy."

I runs my arm around her neck and raises her head, gentle, and breaks
the bag of flaxseed with the other hand; and as easy as I could I
bends over and slips three or four of the seeds in the outer corner of
her eye.

Up gallops the village doc by this time, and snorts around, and grabs
at Mrs. Sampson's pulse, and wants to know what I mean by any such
sandblasted nonsense.

"Well, old Jalap and Jerusalem oakseed," says I, "I'm no regular
practitioner, but I'll show you my authority, anywa