The Frontier Winter

WILL upon this coming week's end travel once again into the Kentuckee region where Fort Boonesborough lies so as to give a talk to interested parties about the Art & Mystery of my profession. It will be quite to their advantage to know some of the techniques employed in my profession if they are to survive upon the frontier against such foes as weather, accident and even the local savage.

I will be packing the blue box of medical instruments into the wagon this very evening and leaving for the fort first thing in the morning.

According to my correspondence with Mr. Wm. Farmer, I am to give my talk at half past five after a supper that will be served to the group.

It has been a long cold winter here near the Cumberland River. I feel as though I have spent a great deal of the winter buried in snow. All the time indoors in the cabin has afforded me plenty of opportunity to re-read all of my favorite books as well as dye my waistcoat again (though the dye has been frozen solid in the bucket for quite some time). Several weeks ago I was so bored I brushed out my wig and tied a fresh queue in it. The poor old thing needed it.

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