XX
I ACQUIRE POISON AND EXPERIENCE
There is no telling to what unparalleled extent I should have carriedmy agricultural work but for a happening which interrupted my career inthat direction and temporarily invalidated me for the performance ofall manual labor. To make short of a long and painful story, I willtell you at once that in the very midst of my agricultural triumphs Iwas rudely awakened to a realization of the fact that I had been badlypoisoned by ivy. The luxuriant growth in one part of our lawn which inmy innocence I had mistaken for infant oak trees and had nurtured withgreat assiduity proved to be the poison vine which is shunned alike ofknowing man and beast.
The truth about this insiduous [Transcriber's note: insidious?] plantwas not revealed to me until after the harm was done. I awoke onenight to find my hands and wrists afflicted with so pestiferous anitching that it verily seemed to me as if the points of ten thousandthousand hot needles were being thrust into my cuticle. There are nowords capable of expressing how torturesome this affliction is; to myphysical suffering there was added a distinct mental disquietudearising from a sense of injustice that nature, supposed to be sobenignant to her friends, should have punished me so grievously forhaving sought to cultivate and foster her arts.
I was shocked, too, to discover that my misfortune awakened no feelingof sympathy in others; nay, my neighbors seemed to regard it rather asa joke that I, a scientist of no mean ability (if I _do_ say itmyself), should have fallen victim to the commonest and most vicious ofall destroyers of human happiness. The amount of badinage, sarcasm,and irony indulged in by these unfeeling folk at the expense of"Farmer" Baker (as they now jocosely dubbed me) would fill a royaloctavo volume. I assure you that I regarded this species of humor asimpertinent to the degree of atrocity.
My family physician, Dr. Hodges, prescribed several vials of pelletswhich bore a striking resemblance to one another, but whose virtues Iwas solemnly assured depended wholly upon my strict observance of the_ordo_ of their administration internally, which _ordo_ may have beensimple and clear enough to Dr. Hodges, but was to me as intricate andcomplicated as a Bradshaw railway guide. Furthermore, havingascertained by artful inquiry what viands and beverages I particularlyliked, Dr. Hodges strictly forbade my indulgence in them, and sucharticles of food and drink as I was particularly averse to berecommended for my diet. Meanwhile I was meeting constantly withpeople who had been afflicted with ivy poisoning, and these kind,cheery souls encouraged me with recitals of their experiences. I wastold that it took seven years for ivy poison to get out of the system;that every year during the ivy season (whatever that may mean) therewould be a recurrence of this pestiferous eruption, sometimes in onepart of the body, sometimes in another, and not unfrequently upon thewhole surface. There were, of course, numerous nostrums warranted toallay the fiery tingling and maddening stinging of the malady, and, asI cheerfully adopted every suggestion that came to my ears, I waspresently stocked up with enough salves and solutions to fill anapothecary-shop, and my associates began to complain that I was asredolent of odors as a chemical laboratory. Naturally enough,therefore, I became morbid and despondent, and began to regard myselfas a mercilessly afflicted and shunned thing.
But amid all this trouble there came to me one big, bright ray ofsatisfaction. I remembered that, when Alice took out a life policywith neighbor Treese Smith, I also took out an accident policy with thesame gentleman in the Wabash Mutual Internecine Association of Indiana.There was, as you can well understand, a heap of consolation in thethought that no matter how little or how much or how long I suffered,the Wabash concern would have to pay for it. As I recollected, theinsurance was fifty dollars a week during incapacity for work. If,therefore, the ivy poison remained in my system seven years, the amountof insurance due me would be--let me see:
Seven years--three hundred and sixty-four weeks.
Three hundred and sixty-four weeks at fifty dollars per week--eighteenthousand two hundred dollars.
This was, indeed, a considerable sum of money! I began to understandthat, viewed from a purely business standpoint, my affliction mightbecome financially profitable. It even occurred to me that in case theWabash company paid promptly, and I got used to the tearing ebullitionsof the ivy poison, I might contrive to get a renewal of the malady atthe end of the first seven years. I wondered that, with thisopportunity of getting rich cum otio et cum dignitate, there were somany poor people in the world; however, I mentally resolved not todiscover my shrewd plan to anybody else.
When I called upon neighbor Treese Smith I was prudent enough to lethim know that I probably had the worst case of ivy poisoning ever heardof, and with more than common pride I exhibited to him my hands andwrists in confirmation of my claims. Mr. Smith (whom you already knowas a man of tender feelings and broad sympathies) expressed himself asbeing very sorry for me, and he asked me if I had tried certainremedies, which he named.
As it was another kind of remedy I was after, I adroitly led theconversation up to the proper point, and then I intimated that it wouldnot harrow up my feelings if I were tendered a payment on account of myaccident policy in the Wabash Mutual Internecine Association ofIndiana. I liked Smith, and I felt that I ought to be candid with him.I told him that it was pretty generally agreed by the medicalprofession that when a person once got a dose of poison ivy it remainedin his system for seven years, during which period it worked itsbaleful offices off and on with varying malignance. I recognized thefact that I had a valid claim on the Wabash company for fifty dollars aweek for seven years; that the total amount of money due or paid me bysaid company at the end of the natural life of the ivy poison would bea trifle over eighteen thousand dollars. I told Mr. Smith that I wasnot disposed to take advantage of or to be too hard on the Wabashcompany, and that, being naturally of a conservative disposition, I waswilling to compromise this matter for--say--well--ten thousand dollars,and cancel the policy.
Mr. Smith answered me in the tone and with the manner of one who isseeking to break bad news gradually and gently to another.
"It is painfully clear to me," said the kind, sympathetic man, "thatyou have not read the conditions upon which your accident policy isissued to you. I fear that when you come to examine it more carefullyyou will learn that in this case you have no claims upon ourcompany--or, perhaps, I should say _the_ company, since I am merely itsagent and have nothing to do with the framing of its contracts."
"I have the instrument with me," said I, producing the policy. "I haveread it carefully and understand it fully. It is a simple, short,straightforward document, and the type is so big and clear that even achild could read it."
"Alas," said Mr. Smith, with a sigh, "I fear you have not read theconditions; you will find them on the other side of the sheet, printedin small type."
I turned the page, and surely enough there were a number of paragraphsunder the title of "The Conditions"; they were printed in small typeand pale-blue ink.
"But what have 'conditions' to do with this case?" I asked. "I gotinsured in the Wabash Mutual Internecine company against accident, andhere I 've had an accident! Ivy poison is as severe an accident as canhappen to any animal, except, perhaps, an alligator or a rhinoceros,and I think I 'm entitled to my money."
"You are quite right from your standpoint," said Mr. Smith, "but it isnot the correct standpoint. You are insured (as you will see byreferring to your policy) as an A No. 1 risk. Turn to the conditions,and you will observe that our A No. 1 risks are insured againstaccident by lightning only. If, now, you had been struck by lightninginstead of by ivy, and if the subtle electric fluid had impaired yourphysical economy, or imparted to your veins any noxious rheum or anyvenom wherefrom either temporary or permanent harm or disquietudeaccrued to you, then you would have a legal and just claim againstour--I mean _the_ company."
"But I supposed I was insured against every kind of accident," said I."When it comes to getting pay for an accident, a dislocation of a toeis quite as desirable, in m
y opinion, as a broken neck."
"Ah, but insurance companies must differentiate," said Mr. Smith."There are so many kinds of accidents that it is absolutely necessaryto have grades and classes and differences and distinctions. You areinsured against lightning: you belong to A No. 1. If you were insuredagainst a broken leg you would be in X No. 2, or against a sprainedwrist in H No. 3. My recollection is that our policies of insuranceagainst poison ivy are written in Q No. 4, but I am not positive. If,however, you care to profit by this annoying experience and desire toinsure against ivy poison, I will look the matter up the first thingto-morrow and write you out a policy at once. In your case the policyshould be made out for a period of fourteen years, since your presentdose of poison will not lose its efficacy for seven years, and thatwill render insurance taken _after the fact_ inoperative."
There was a heavy thunder shower the next day, and I stood out in itall the time in the hope of getting a chance to claim remuneration fromthe Wabash Mutual Internecine Association. But the lightning dodged meas if I had been a sacred and charmed object. I made up my mind thatit was folly to try to get even with the insurance concern, and since afarming career was now closed against me, I determined to devote myspare time to watching the progress of affairs inside our new house andto cooeperate with Alice and Adah and our feminine neighbors in theirherculean task of "having things as they should be."