



Produced by David Widger





PECK'S SUNSHINE

By George W. Peck

Being a Collection of Articles Written for Peck's Sun, Milwaukee, Wis.,
Generally Calculated to Throw Sunshine Instead of Clouds on the Faces
of Those Who Read Them.

Belford, Clarke & Co. - 1882.




"NOT GUILTY."

Gentlemen of the Jury: I stand before you charged with an attempt to
"remove" the people of America by the publication of a new book, and I
enter a plea of "Not Guilty." While admitting that the case looks strong
against me, there are extenuating circumstances, which, if you will
weigh them carefully, will go far towards acquitting me of this dreadful
charge. The facts are that I am not responsible, I was sane enough up to
the day that I decided to publish this book and have been since; but
on that particular day I was taken possession of by an unseen power--a
Chicago publisher-who filled my alleged mind with the belief that the
country demanded the sacrifice, and that there would be money in it. If
the thing is a failure, I want it understood that I was instigated by
the Chicago man; but if it is a success, then, of course, it was an
inspiration of my own.

The book contains nothing but good nature, pleasantly told yarns, jokes
on my friends; and, through it all, there is not intended to be a line
or a word that can cause pain or sorrow-nothing but happiness.

Laughter is the best medicine known to the world for the cure of many
diseases that mankind is subject to, and it has been prescribed with
success by some of our best practitioners. It opens up the pores, and
restores the circulation of the blood, and the despondent patient that
smiles, is in a fair way to recovery. While this book is not recommended
as an infallible cure for consumption, if I can throw the patient into
the blues by the pictures, I can knock the blues out by vaccinating with
the reading matter.

To those who are inclined to look upon the bright side of life, this
book is most respectfully dedicated by the author.

GEO. W. PECK. Milwaukee, Wis.,

March, 1882.




PECK'S SUNSHINE.




FEMALE DOCTORS WILL NEVER DO.

A St. Louis doctor factory recently turned out a dozen female doctors.
As long as the female doctors were confined to one or two in the whole
country, and these were experimental, the _Sun_ held its peace, and did
not complain; but now that the colleges are engaged in producing female
doctors as a business, we must protest, and in so doing will give a few
reasons why female doctors will not prove a paying branch of industry.

In the first place, if they doctor anybody it must be women, and
three-fourths of the women had rather have a male doctor. Suppose these
colleges turn out female doctors until there are as many of them as
there are male doctors, what have they got to practice on?

A man, if there was nothing the matter with him, might call in a female
doctor; but if he was sick as a horse--and when a man is sick he is
sick as a horse--the last thing he would have around would be a female
doctor. And why? Because when a man wants a female fumbling around him
he wants to feel well. He don't want to be bilious, or feverish, with
his mouth tasting like cheese, and his eyes bloodshot, when a female is
looking over him and taking an account of stock.

Of course these female doctors are all young and good looking, and if
one of them came into a sick room where a man was in bed, and he had
chills, and was as cold as a wedge, and she should sit up close to the
side of the bed, and take hold of his hand, his pulse would run up to
a hundred and fifty and she would prescribe for a fever when he had
chilblains. Then if he died she could be arrested for malpractice. O,
you can't fool us on female doctors.

A man who has been sick and had male doctors, knows just how he would
feel to have a female doctor come tripping in and throw her fur lined
cloak over a chair, take off her hat and gloves, and throw them on a
lounge, and come up to the bed with a pair of marine blue eyes, with a
twinkle in the corner, and look him in the wild, changeable eyes, and
ask him to run out his tongue. Suppose he knew his tongue was coated so
it looked like a yellow Turkish towel, do you suppose he would want to
run out five or six inches of the lower end of it, and let that female
doctor put her finger on it, to see how it was f