At the dentist`s
Once I had had a toothache for several days, but I couldn`t pluck up courage to go to the dentist. As a matter of fact I went twice, but just as I got on his doorstep and was going to ring the bell the toothache seemed to have gone away, so I went home again. But at last I had to go back, and this time I rang the bell and was shown into the waiting-room.
There were a number of magazines there, and I had just got in the middle of an exciting story when the maid came in to say Mr. Puller was ready to see me – I`ll have to wait for the next toothache to finish the story.
Well, I went into the surgery (the room where a doctor or dentist gives advice or treatment) and he told me to sit in a chair that he could move up and down, backwards and forwards, and then he had a look at the inside of my mouth. He put a little mirror on a long handle inside my mouth and poked about for a while, then he looked serious and said, “Yes, I`m afraid we can`t save that one, it will have to come out.”
I asked him to give me an injection. He filled a syringe with liquid called cocaine. I felt a little prick on the gum and then he injected the cocaine. He did this in two or three places and waited for a minute or so.
My mouth felt rather dead. Then he took a pair of forceps, gripped the tooth, gave a twist, then a pull, and the tooth was out. I could see it and hear it but I couldn`t feel it. Then he said, “It`s all over. Spit in there and then wash your mouth out with this disinfectant”.