by Jerome K. Jerome (Author)
Many years ago, when I was a young man, I was taken very ill-I never could see myself that much was the matter with me, except that I had a beastly cold. But I suppose it was something very serious, for the doctor said that I ought to have come to him a month before, and that if it (whatever it was) had gone on for another week he would not have answered for the consequences. It is an extraordinary thing, but I never knew a doctor called into any case yet but what it transpired that another day's delay would have rendered cure hopeless. Our medical guide, philosopher, and friend is like the hero in a melodrama-he always comes upon the scene just, and only just, in the nick of time. It is Providence, that is what it is.