I believe that would have cured me effectually, if it had not been for young Wilson.

When I went to bed, I put my mustard plaster -- which was a very gorgeous one, eighteen inches square--where I could reach it when I was ready for it.

But young Wilson got hungry in the night, and here is food for the imagination.
After sojourning a week at Lake Bigler, I went to Steamboat Springs, and, besides the steam-baths, I took a lot of the vilest medicines that were ever concocted.

They would have cured me, but I had to go back to Virginia City, where, notwithstanding the variety of new remedies I absorbed every day, I managed to aggravate my disease by carelessness and undue exposure.
I finally concluded to visit San Francisco, and the first day I got there a lady at the hotel told me to drink a quart of whisky every twenty-four hours, and a friend up-town recommended precisely the same course.

Each advised me to take a quart; that made half a gallon.