Трое в лодке, не считая собаки / Three Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog)

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There were four of us – George, and William Samuel Harris[1], and myself, and Montmorency[2]. We were sitting in my room, smoking, and talking about how bad we were – bad from a medical point of view, of course.

We were all feeling bad, and we were quite nervous about it. Harris said he had such a very bad headache that he hardly knew what he was doing. And then George said that he had a headache too. As for me, it was my liver that was out of order. I read about the various symptoms of a sick liver in a circular that offered liver-pills. I had them all.

It is a most extraordinary thing, but when I read a medicine advertisement I usually come to the conclusion that I am suffering from the disease that was described.

One day I went to the British Museum to read about hay fever [3], I fancy I had it [4]. I took the book, and read all I needed; and then I idly turned the leaves, and began to study diseases, generally. Immediately I understood that I had some fearful, devastating illness.

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