A little about our Medical men. Dr. E. B. Evans was a very kindly gentleman and was very good to children. He used a Pony and trap for all his visits with a grumpy old Coach man, I find now that Mr. Brook the minister of Welsh Affairs was married to Dr. Evans grandaughter, his Daughter married a Vicar of Newport the Rev. A. A. Mathews a good rugby foot baller and very popular in St. Thomas where he done his courting. The Doctor lived in Mackworth Terr, with his surgery and stables and coach house exactly opposite, he was a real family man, would sit and chat with his patients and feel quite homely. His son Alban was very different. He had qualified as a Doctor and sometimes come around with his father to see his patients. He was disliked from his very first visit, and it got more so after his second, by the third time, around visiting most of the patients with his father he was simply hated and soon got a position as a specialist. He made our poor old (Maggie Martins the quack’s) life a real misery. She getting very feeble at this stage did not live very long after, his assistant a dispenser. Was Dr. Taylor, a very good sort of man. He was with Dr. Evans for many years he used to visit the patients at Pentrechwyth occasionly and was full of Rheumatism, he had a push bike, every-one would push the bike up hills for him women included he would be able to ride home after his visit to the patients we knew at once, where he was by the color of his Bike, mostly outside pubs, as most of the landlords were laid up with Gout Tom Griffiths the ‘Gwyndy’ Inn being a great sufferer he could not go upstairs for years with a bad leg, and Dr. Taylor gave him the best attention. He was very fond of a drop of whiskey, and with the best at 3/6 a Bottle everybody of any Importance kept it in the house for medicine purposes he used to call at our house to have a cup of tea which was half full of whiskey. Tom Griffiths used to recline on a settee by the window in the Tap room, when not in acute pain he was quite a cheeky person. After paying his visits Dr. Taylor would be helped on to his bike and could ride down to the bottom of Foxhole where he would be helped to push his bike up past the Music Hall and Canaan Chapel, he would be helped on again at the top of the hill. How he would have got on a (penny farthing bike when they were still in use) I would not like to comment upon.
Dr. Taylor was the Dentist, as well as the dispenser and to have a tooth out in the ninetees was an awful thing, no dental chairs as they have in surgeries to-day, no injection, and according to how Dr. Taylor felt in himself, no comforting words either, sit down on an ordinary chair in the Dispensary a very small room. With plenty of light, he would examine the tooth to be extracted, after you had been in pain for days & nights, and could not find courage for this visit you would have liked a word of comfort, not so with him, his remark you should have come before, there is now a small absess on the root, would be sufficient to put you into a state of collapse, hold fast to the chair and after dipping his instrument into a basin of hot water, he would perform, what a grip you would be nearly pulled off the chair, and with delight he would hand you the tooth all covered in blood, and in a quite professional manner would say one shilling pleas. Then, keep on spitting on the road all the way home. What a relief to get out into the street again, this description is what I suffered, other comments such as one by ‘Will Goggles’ was he felt Dr. Taylor pulling his tooth out with roots down in his Guts. Not one of my friends who are alive to-day very near the 80 years and over, ever went the second time to Dr. Taylor.