The more did her stomach reject it the more did she force it down, until, what with deglutition, _et vice versa_, she had been reduced to a state of extreme weakness, attended with fever.
How many panaceas have been offered without success for two evils--sea-sickness and hydrophobia! and between these two there appears to be a link, for sea-sickness as surely ends in hydrophobia, as hydrophobia does in death.

The sovereign remedy prescribed, when I first went to sea, was a piece of fat pork, tied to a string, to be swallowed, and then pulled up again; the dose to be repeated until effective.

I should not have mentioned this well-known remedy, as it has long been superseded by other nostrums, were it not that this maritime prescription has been the origin of two modern improvements in the medical catalogue--one is the stomach-pump, evidently borrowed from this simple engine; the other is the very successful prescription now in vogue, to those who are weak in the digestive organs, to eat fat bacon for breakfast, which I have no doubt was suggested to Doctor Vance, from what he had been eye-witness to on board of a man-of-war.
But here I am digressing again from Doctor Plausible to Doctor Vance.
Reader, I never lose the opportunity of drawing a moral; and what an important one is here! Observe how difficult it is to regain the right path when once you have quitted it.

Let my error be a warning to you in your journey through life, and my digressions preserve you from diverging from the beaten track, which, as the Americans would say, leads _clean slick_ on to happiness and peace.
Doctor Plausible was a personable man, apparently about five-and-thirty years old; he wore a little powder in his hair, black silk stockings, and knee-breeches.

In this I consider Doctor Plausible was right; the above look much more scientific than Wellington trousers; and much depends upon the exterior.