{"id":"01KG8AKBZA1H5ZASTRTZ10CM2Q","cid":"bafkreiexfwfgv6uuwgt6wtq4bu2t3a2qsbtbvjxsogg5qpl4hf3xu4fx2q","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":4246,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:47:57.722Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J1JMR8XVKPA0G8ADAPC4","start_line":4160,"text":"CHAPTER XIX.\r\n\r\nA SOLDIER OF FORTUNE.\r\n\r\n\r\n\"Mexico? Molino del Rey? Resaca de la Palma?\"\r\n\r\n\"Resaca de la _Tomba_!\"\r\n\r\nLeaving his reputation to take care of itself, since, as is not seldom\r\nthe case, he knew nothing of its being in debate, the herb-doctor,\r\nwandering towards the forward part of the boat, had there espied a\r\nsingular character in a grimy old regimental coat, a countenance at once\r\ngrim and wizened, interwoven paralyzed legs, stiff as icicles, suspended\r\nbetween rude crutches, while the whole rigid body, like a ship's long\r\nbarometer on gimbals, swung to and fro, mechanically faithful to the\r\nmotion of the boat. Looking downward while he swung, the cripple seemed\r\nin a brown study.\r\n\r\nAs moved by the sight, and conjecturing that here was some battered hero\r\nfrom the Mexican battle-fields, the herb-doctor had sympathetically\r\naccosted him as above, and received the above rather dubious reply. As,\r\nwith a half moody, half surly sort of air that reply was given, the\r\ncripple, by a voluntary jerk, nervously increased his swing (his custom\r\nwhen seized by emotion), so that one would have thought some squall had\r\nsuddenly rolled the boat and with it the barometer.\r\n\r\n\"Tombs? my friend,\" exclaimed the herb-doctor in mild surprise. \"You\r\nhave not descended to the dead, have you? I had imagined you a scarred\r\ncampaigner, one of the noble children of war, for your dear country a\r\nglorious sufferer. But you are Lazarus, it seems.\"\r\n\r\n\"Yes, he who had sores.\"\r\n\r\n\"Ah, the _other_ Lazarus. But I never knew that either of them was in\r\nthe army,\" glancing at the dilapidated regimentals.\r\n\r\n\"That will do now. Jokes enough.\"\r\n\r\n\"Friend,\" said the other reproachfully, \"you think amiss. On principle,\r\nI greet unfortunates with some pleasant remark, the better to call off\r\ntheir thoughts from their troubles. The physician who is at once wise\r\nand humane seldom unreservedly sympathizes with his patient. But come, I\r\nam a herb-doctor, and also a natural bone-setter. I may be sanguine, but\r\nI think I can do something for you. You look up now. Give me your story.\r\nEre I undertake a cure, I require a full account of the case.\"\r\n\r\n\"You can't help me,\" returned the cripple gruffly. \"Go away.\"\r\n\r\n\"You seem sadly destitute of----\"\r\n\r\n\"No I ain't destitute; to-day, at least, I can pay my way.\"\r\n\r\n\"The Natural Bone-setter is happy, indeed, to hear that. But you were\r\npremature. I was deploring your destitution, not of cash, but of\r\nconfidence. You think the Natural Bone-setter can't help you. Well,\r\nsuppose he can't, have you any objection to telling him your story? You,\r\nmy friend, have, in a signal way, experienced adversity. Tell me, then,\r\nfor my private good, how, without aid from the noble cripple, Epictetus,\r\nyou have arrived at his heroic sang-froid in misfortune.\"\r\n\r\nAt these words the cripple fixed upon the speaker the hard ironic eye of\r\none toughened and defiant in misery, and, in the end, grinned upon him\r\nwith his unshaven face like an ogre.\r\n\r\n\"Come, come, be sociable--be human, my friend. Don't make that face; it\r\ndistresses me.\"\r\n\r\n\"I suppose,\" with a sneer, \"you are the man I've long heard of--The\r\nHappy Man.\"\r\n\r\n\"Happy? my friend. Yes, at least I ought to be. My conscience is\r\npeaceful. I have confidence in everybody. I have confidence that, in my\r\nhumble profession, I do some little good to the world. Yes, I think\r\nthat, without presumption, I may venture to assent to the proposition\r\nthat I am the Happy Man--the Happy Bone-setter.\"\r\n\r\n\"Then, you shall hear my story. Many a month I have longed to get hold\r\nof the Happy Man, drill him, drop the powder, and leave him to explode\r\nat his leisure.\".\r\n\r\n\"What a demoniac unfortunate\" exclaimed the herb-doctor retreating.\r\n\"Regular infernal machine!\"\r\n\r\n\"Look ye,\" cried the other, stumping after him, and with his horny hand\r\ncatching him by a horn button, \"my name is Thomas Fry. Until my----\"\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJM4JACMJM5K6XEKVWTRB","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1JMR8XVKPA0G8ADAPC4","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKBZ2YPXBQDYPTFYF3EDZ","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:02.026Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:09.166Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}