Medicine: Mr. Morgan's Misery

Rumor that a special train with a private car was going to pick up a wedding party at Prides Crossing, Mass, brought idlers to the station of that socialite village north of Boston near dusk one afternoon last week. They wanted to see the throwing of rice and shoes, the shouting of good wishes at newlyweds who could afford a honeymoon in a private car. The train arrived, waited. The sun neared setting. The air cooled. At a few minutes before 8 o'clock an ambulance drove up to the rear platform of the private...

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