Mr. World and his congenial escort moved on from patient to patient,
passing many hundreds who had met with accidents on the Broad Highway.
Many had been wounded by the "sword of the Spirit" and were now hoping
to be cured by the processes here in vogue.
In passing on through another ward their attention was called to a
woman who lay on a couch and seemed to be suffering more than she was
able to bear.
Mr. World inquired concerning her, and was told that she was one Miss
Busy-Body, a member in good standing of a radical church. She came to
her grief in this strange manner: she had a special aptitude for
sweeping before other people's doors, and could always find dirt, even
if she could not find anything better.
She had been told repeatedly to sweep before her own door, but she did
not heed this wise counsel, for she often said that there was no dirt
visible about her own home.
One day she went forth as usually, broom in hand, and swept the dirt
from other doors than her own, much to the annoyance and provocation
of her neighbors, for she always raised the dust incontinently.
Now by her continual neglect at home the filth had accumulated to such
an extent that when she returned home and attempted to enter the door,
her foot slipped on the greasy step, and she fell, breaking her collar
bone, two of her ribs, and otherwise injuring herself.
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