{"id":"01KG8AKCKRKZZQ5FAF2V9QSZ7X","cid":"bafkreie5pmgcqkqmqwsmygfwrco6gtnw3vsj47d2i4hm2wm6beyoaadg6i","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":5034,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:47:57.722Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 3","source_file":"01KG89J1JMR8XVKPA0G8ADAPC4","start_line":4957,"text":"which you criticise her?\"\r\n\r\n\"No! for the privilege of vision I am indebted to an oculist, who in my\r\ntenth year operated upon me in Philadelphia. Nature made me blind and\r\nwould have kept me so. My oculist counterplotted her.\"\r\n\r\n\"And yet, sir, by your complexion, I judge you live an out-of-door life;\r\nwithout knowing it, you are partial to nature; you fly to nature, the\r\nuniversal mother.\"\r\n\r\n\"Very motherly! Sir, in the passion-fits of nature, I've known birds fly\r\nfrom nature to me, rough as I look; yes, sir, in a tempest, refuge\r\nhere,\" smiting the folds of his bearskin. \"Fact, sir, fact. Come, come,\r\nMr. Palaverer, for all your palavering, did you yourself never shut out\r\nnature of a cold, wet night? Bar her out? Bolt her out? Lint her out?\"\r\n\r\n\"As to that,\" said the herb-doctor calmly, \"much may be said.\"\r\n\r\n\"Say it, then,\" ruffling all his hairs. \"You can't, sir, can't.\" Then,\r\nas in apostrophe: \"Look you, nature! I don't deny but your clover is\r\nsweet, and your dandelions don't roar; but whose hailstones smashed my\r\nwindows?\"\r\n\r\n\"Sir,\" with unimpaired affability, producing one of his boxes, \"I am\r\npained to meet with one who holds nature a dangerous character. Though\r\nyour manner is refined your voice is rough; in short, you seem to have a\r\nsore throat. In the calumniated name of nature, I present you with this\r\nbox; my venerable friend here has a similar one; but to you, a free\r\ngift, sir. Through her regularly-authorized agents, of whom I happen to\r\nbe one, Nature delights in benefiting those who most abuse her. Pray,\r\ntake it.\"\r\n\r\n\"Away with it! Don't hold it so near. Ten to one there is a torpedo in\r\nit. Such things have been. Editors been killed that way. Take it further\r\noff, I say.\"\r\n\r\n\"Good heavens! my dear sir----\"\r\n\r\n\"I tell you I want none of your boxes,\" snapping his rifle.\r\n\r\n\"Oh, take it--ugh, ugh! do take it,\" chimed in the old miser; \"I wish he\r\nwould give me one for nothing.\"\r\n\r\n\"You find it lonely, eh,\" turning short round; \"gulled yourself, you\r\nwould have a companion.\"\r\n\r\n\"How can he find it lonely,\" returned the herb-doctor, \"or how desire a\r\ncompanion, when here I stand by him; I, even I, in whom he has trust.\r\nFor the gulling, tell me, is it humane to talk so to this poor old man?\r\nGranting that his dependence on my medicine is vain, is it kind to\r\ndeprive him of what, in mere imagination, if nothing more, may help eke\r\nout, with hope, his disease? For you, if you have no confidence, and,\r\nthanks to your native health, can get along without it, so far, at\r\nleast, as trusting in my medicine goes; yet, how cruel an argument to\r\nuse, with this afflicted one here. Is it not for all the world as if\r\nsome brawny pugilist, aglow in December, should rush in and put out a\r\nhospital-fire, because, forsooth, he feeling no need of artificial heat,\r\nthe shivering patients shall have none? Put it to your conscience, sir,\r\nand you will admit, that, whatever be the nature of this afflicted one's\r\ntrust, you, in opposing it, evince either an erring head or a heart\r\namiss. Come, own, are you not pitiless?\"\r\n\r\n\"Yes, poor soul,\" said the Missourian, gravely eying the old man--\"yes,\r\nit _is_ pitiless in one like me to speak too honestly to one like you.\r\nYou are a late sitter-up in this life; past man's usual bed-time; and\r\ntruth, though with some it makes a wholesome breakfast, proves to all a\r\nsupper too hearty. Hearty food, taken late, gives bad dreams.\"\r\n\r\n\"What, in wonder's name--ugh, ugh!--is he talking about?\" asked the old\r\nmiser, looking up to the herb-doctor.\r\n\r\n\"Heaven be praised for that!\" cried the Missourian.\r\n\r\n\"Out of his mind, ain't he?\" again appealed the old miser.\r\n\r\n\"Pray, sir,\" said the herb-doctor to the Missourian, \"for what were you\r\ngiving thanks just now?\"\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 3"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJM4MS3PS24HNRJ04GFSB","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1JMR8XVKPA0G8ADAPC4","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKCKR1JAT9PTDCG79K19Q","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKCKRH1X9BENMAVJV6J9J","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:02.680Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:09.817Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}