Her Strange Complaint

Dr. B was a popular phyaician, though the fact was rather surprising, as he was rather a "plain spoken" man, and had little patienee with the fancies of sorne of his patieuts who were continually conjuring np diseases of all sorts, with vvhich they imagined theuieelvea to be afflicted. 'They dou't want to think there's nothing the matter with them," the good doctor was wout to say ruefully. "Why, bless me! a patiënt of rniue was really angry with me not long ago, when I told her she didn't need any more medicine!" Oae day one of these hypochondriacs went to him with a very grave face. "Well, what's the matter now, Mrs. Gray?' asked Dr. B cheerfully: "I'm sure you're looking well." "I may be looking well," admitte;! the patiënt with great solemuity. "but I can assure you I am far from being so. I have a serieus trouble." "Why, ;uy dear madam, you sui-prise ineH said the doctor. "Yes," said the sufferer; -'wheu I stoop over, so. and put my riglit hand np, so, to my 'shanlder, 1 have a most excruciating pniti in my back." "Then,"' s:iid the doctor, with a hearty langh, "why in the world do you persist in doing it?" "She didn't like that,"' the doctor tised to say in telling the story, "but I couldn't help saying it; there's not a person in the world who could take the position ehe did and not have a criek in the