Article September 21, 1899 Issue

Miscellany

Patrick J. Gleason, ex-Mayor of Long Island City, who has been reported at death's door several times, is now laughing at his doctors and has thrown physic to the dogs. For a number of years his physiciaus said he had heart disease and other complaints, and he carried vials of medicine about with him in every pocket of his clothing. His medical advisers told him it was necessary to do so, as he might be stricken at any moment, and the medicine might be the means of saving his life.

Often he has been seen this summer sitting in a corner of Miller's Hotel, in Long Island City, showing his collection of little bottles to his friends, and dilating on their respective merits in emergencies. He also spent considerable time in training his faithful valet, who looked after his rooms over the Front Street livery stable.

"If you see me keel back in me chair and place me hand over me heart, 'Corkey,' " he would say, "just fish down in me left hand vest pocket for this bottle, pry open me mouth, and pour some of the stuff down me throat. If I should froth at the mouth and fall down, grab the bottle in the right hand vest pocket and give me that, if you want me to live until Saturday night to pay you your wages. On the other hand, if I suddenly become speechless and me eyes get the glassy stare in them, go for the pocket of me coat and get the bottle there, or I 'am a dead man. And in any case don't for the life of you forget the pills in the rear pocket of me trousers."

Send a comment to the editors

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit

Miscellany

We'd love to hear from you!

Sign up for unlimited access