n the mirror, the
lint-drifts under the stove, the huge cobwebs flying from the corners,
the knickknacks awry on the mantel-piece; then one finds the wall-paper
is not hung true, and gazes at flaws in the ceiling till they grow into
dancing-jacks, and hears the doors that slam, like the shock of a
cannon. These are torments so minute that there seems no virtue even in
bearing them. Ah! to mount to execution for an idea,--that were glorious
and sustaining; but to endure the daily burden of these petty
tortures,--one never hears the music play then.

Among the articles to be desired of science is a false hand, or a
spectral arm, that shall reach miraculously about,--not a fruit-picker
or a carpet-sweeper, but something working with the fineness of an
elephant's trunk,--thus to end the discomfort of those orange-seeds
spilled on the far side of the room, while, lying inactive, one reaches,
reaches, with a patient power which, if transformed into the practical,
would push an army through Austria.

Another thing that the invalid has to endure is from the thoughtlessness
of visitors. How often, when summoned from the sick-room for any
purpose, do they briskly remark, in Tom Thumb style, "I'll be back in a
very few minutes!" Hence one lies awake by force, keeping several
errands to be despatched on the return, changing variously all the
little plans for the next hour or two, and waits. My experience
generally is that they have not come back yet.

But the commonest experience is when life itself seems to hang on the
arrival of the doctor. Indeed, it is safe to say that never have lovers
been so waited for as the doctor. Wasn't that his carriage at the door?
Medicine is out! new symptoms appear! it is only an hour to bedtime!
and, oh! will the doctor come, do you think? One listens more intently;
but now there are no carriages. There are express-wagons, late
ice-carts, out-of-town stages, or here and there a light rolling buggy,
that seems running on to the end of the world. There are but few
foot-passengers either, and they all go by without halting, and there is
no indication in the steps of any man of them that he would be the
doctor if he could. Thus one wears through the night uncomforted, yet
one does not usually die. I have also seen the doctors sitting in their
offices expectant, and probably quite as much distressed that everyone
went by without stopping. So the balances are kept.

The foregoing grievances are often