I expect Dr. S.C.Ghose, of Calcutta, India, would be delighted to learn that this P.M. – about 1-2 o’clock – I had a first class sneezing fit and a genuine coryza, with other suffusion’s and troubles succeeding, until now – about 6 P.M. – I am very glad business matters are dismissed and I get a chance to sit down and meditate.

How all this and much more came about is somewhat as follows:

      Yesterday, May 25th, A.D., I undertook to search out some of the things relating to “Justicia adhatoda” – for one of its syllables, “tod” – means, in German language, nightmare, death.

     In the May issue of that interesting repository – the Homoeopathic Recorder – R read and reread the doctor’s account of that East Indian plant, Justicia adhatoda; and as I and some other members of our family had “disturbances” that seemed to harmonize with the doctor’s exhibit it was a simple matter and a good time to test the thing – so out of a handful of cut loaf sugar cubes I selected six, of about uniform dimensions, and as nearly as I could control matters put about three drops of mother tincture (B.&T. Brand) of the aforesaid plant on each cube, and from 1 to 4 o’ clock P.M. the entire six cubes were devoured, one by one, with about half-hour intervals, so as to give myself a chance to cut off the experiment in case some of those occult, East Indian vagaries should develop. But everything was quiet and tranquil up to about 7 P.M. of the same, 25th, when I had ceased to have expectations and sat down to a small bowl of soup and rye bread, the first spoonful of which caused the silent remark:

     “What under the sun can be the matter with my throat?” Inasmuch as I live entirely solitaire I had to discuss the matter as best I could in monologue and in silence, but went on with the frugal evening meal, and was glad to drop into bed about 8 P.M. with a sore throat, suffused eyes, stuffy, stupid feeling head, and this morning (May 26, 05) got up about 7 A.M. with all those symptoms in good working order! – supplemented by a very queer sort of headache, seeming to arise from a displaced brain, and which disappeared on attaining the erect position, when the brain seemed to flop over into its normal position. And now, about 7 P.M., May 26th, my throat is still sore, head and eyes suffused, hands puffy and swollen, feet and legs swollen and quite puffy and I hope very soon to be in bed.

     My object in searching the thing out personally was and is to deal with constipation of long standing – and with others of the family for chronic cough – as yet I am unable to report on either.