Change the subject, Pyke.' 'We promised Sir Mulberry and Lord Frederick,' said Pyke, 'that we'd call this morning and inquire whether you took any cold last night.' 'Not the least in the world last night, sir,' replied Mrs Nickleby, 'with many thanks to his lordship and Sir Mulberry for doing me the honour to inquire; not the least--which is the more singular, as I really am very subject to colds, indeed--very subject.

I had a cold once,' said Mrs Nickleby, 'I think it was in the year eighteen hundred and seventeen; let me see, four and five are nine, and--yes, eighteen hundred and seventeen, that I thought I never should get rid of; actually and seriously, that I thought I never should get rid of.

I was only cured at last by a remedy that I don't know whether you ever happened to hear of, Mr Pluck.

You have a gallon of water as hot as you can possibly bear it, with a pound of salt, and sixpen'orth of the finest bran, and sit with your head in it for twenty minutes every night just before going to bed; at least, I don't mean your head--your feet.
It's a most extraordinary cure--a most extraordinary cure.

I used it for the first time, I recollect, the day after Christmas Day, and by the middle of April following the cold was gone.