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The above ad and the following testimonial appeared in Weyand and Reed's Beaver County Centennial Directory. William M. (McElhaney) Walton was the editor's grandfather
1, Col. Richard Walton, do hereby certify that my son, Wm. M. Walton, living in Wood county, Ohio, was well enough in the morning and took the sick whilst eating his dinner. He sent for a doctor, and he doctored him for inflammatory rheumatism for three weeks. Finding my son growing worse, I concluded to bring him home and did so. We called in our family doctor and he pronounced the disease to be the same as the first doctor had pronounced it. I found my boy was still getting worse. I took some of his water to a doctor in Pittsburgh, and she told me what ailed the boy. She said his blood had been poisoned, and that he had never taken anything to purify it, and that it had settled in his leg, and she said she would not give any medicine till he had been kept on lemon tea for four days. She said he had taken too much strong medicine already. I came home and sent for another doctor, and when he came he met our family doctor, and he described the disease as follows: He called it coxalgee, or scrofulous affection, or white swelling. Now he changed the treatment, and for a while we thought he was better. He controlled the pain by chloriform liniment, but that soon failed, and the patient still getting worse, he put in an instrument to see if there was any matter the second time, but there was none. The next day he took a pain in his well leg, and it took two of us to hold him in bed. The doctor told in the country that if he was the last man he must die. Finding all their skill baffled, I determined to have more medical skill, so I started for New Brighton. When I got into Fallston I determined to see Beaver Falls, and whatever possessed me to think about Beaver Falls God only knows, but I drove up to the town, put my horse in Braden's livery stable, and ordered him to be fed. I then went over to my nephews, and the first word was, "Uncle, how is Will?" I said, "Well, son we are going to lose Will." He said, "And you are after a doctor, and we have a good one here, but you don't want him." He then told me to go down to Brighton and get Dr. Steinfeld, and if he could not cure him then he would have to die. I said, "Where in the world is Dr. Steinfeld?" He told me where I should find him. I introduced myself and told him my business. He said, "What did Scrogs call the disease?" I told him. He said, "I can cure your boy in fourteen days," and he did so. His plaster wasn't on over twenty minutes till he had no more pain. Got well right along.
COL. R. WALTON