A FEW weeks ago I listened to a sermon delivered by a prominent minister on "What We Shall Do in Heaven?" The preacher pictured his views of what heaven is like in most glowing terms, telling of its perpetual sunshine, of its joys and delights, and of endless time for everything without weariness. He further said that there has been doubt in the minds of many as to what we will do in the hereafter, and he settled the question at once for all by saying that we will simply continue doing what has been our life-work on earth, becoming more and more perfect in it; that the artist will still paint pictures, but they will be much grander because of the heavenly subjects he will have for study; the musician will compose more soul-inspiring harmonies, and the poet in his new surroundings will continue to sing of the beauties in sight.

      I felt my heart bound with joy at the idea that there would be endless time for me to carry on and perfect my work and study, until my ear caught the words: "And there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying; neither shall there be any more pain."

      Then my thoughts started in a different direction. What is to become of me? Is there no place nor work for me in heaven? The questions had scarcely flashed through my mind when the preacher stated that we will all be young and beautiful there. The thoughts now came tumbling one over the other in my brain, so that I was glad when his discourse came to an end.

      As soon as the benediction was pronounced I rushed out into the open air, with my mind much perplexed. "No more death, sorrow, crying, nor pain!"

      What is to be the fate of the undertaker? Will his hearse become a coal-cart in the regions below? And the physicians, surgeons, occulists — Dr. Munyon, Mrs. Winslow, and Lydia Pinkham — what will become of them? And we dentists?

      I tried hard to banish the unpleasant speculations as to my hereafter by reflecting on how much had already been done to alleviate the suffering attending dental operations; of how extractions have been made painless, and decayed teeth restored, and so on through the successive steps of progress that have been made in recent years. Still, with all the discoveries and appliances people dread the dental chair, and yet if all are to be young and beautiful. in the world beyond, will not the dentist be needed there?

      Could a woman, no matter how fair her complexion, or how perfect her form, or how well rounded her cheek, or how sparkling her eyes, who had lost her front teeth be called beautiful? Everyone knows how hideous her smile would be. And how about the one with sunken and furrowed cheeks from the loss of back teeth? And the ones without any teeth at all? Can these be beautiful? There are many, many people who leave this world minus their teeth.

      Turn where I would, I was haunted by the thought that if I am to participate in the joy of life and work on the other side I must bend all my energies toward finding some method of restoring lost and decayed teeth without any discomfort to the patient.

      During the days that followed every moment of my unoccupied time was filled with the problem of how to accomplish this. and I could hardly wait for night to come, when I would shut myself in my laboratory and study and experiment to find some means to this end.

      This night work had continued for several weeks and I was well-nigh exhausted and despaired of ever making the discoveries I had hoped for. I sat down in my chair in this despondent mood, gazing into vacancy, recalling once more the sermon that had prompted all this work. The clock struck, and on the last stroke of twelve I was startled by the noise of a breaking test tube, and, turning toward the laboratory table, I discerned the dim outline of the ghostly form of the late Dr. Bonwill! There he stood, holding one of my beakers to the light, then under his nose, and, shaking his head, he returned it to the table and took another, and then another, and went through the same mode of examination with each until he had examined them all. Then, with a ghostly smile on his ghostly face, he turned toward me.

      I sat there, unable to move or speak, with my heart pounding like a trip hammer and my eyes riveted upon him. For a few brief seconds, which seemed ages to me, the eyes of the ghost were fixed in a glassy stare upon me, and I felt that my inmost thoughts were read. He rapidly waved his hand toward the beakers and spoke:

      "My son, fear me not, though I am the spirit of the departed one whom you knew in life. It is because of my friendship for you then and my knowledge of your earnest efforts and interest in science that I have appeared to you at this time. I have been watching over you and following your investigations from the beyond. The problem which you have been seeking to solve has already been solved by me since I left this earth. I am here to help you. Don't interrupt me — give me your attention!

      "On this paper I will write a formula for a fluid which, when injected into the gums, will cause the teeth to be reproduced in their relative normal positions as if by magic. Ah! ah!" said he, pointed his finger at me as he noted the look of doubt on my face. "I knew you would not believe it, and for that reason I am ready to prove it to you now. Here is a vial of the substance which I have prepared for this very purpose, and here" — beckoning with his other hand — "is a patient on whom we will make the test."

      And the ghost of George Washington appeared. I could not restrain from the impulse to arise and salute him.

      "Now watch," said the ghost doctor. Quickly taking from his case a hypodermic syringe, he filled it from the vial, and, placing the "Father of our Country" in my chair, removed from his mouth that famous full upper set of teeth carved out of a solid block of ivory and injected into the gums, all the way around, the fluid. Lo and behold! could I believe my eyes? Hardly had he finished the application when teeth appeared in their proper positions. "Wonderful! wonderful!" cried I and the ghost of Washington simultaneously. With a wave of the hand of the ghost doctor, Washington was gone and the spirit of Benjamin Franklin was in the chair.

      His open mouth showed the loss of several teeth, and the ghost doctor made an application to these spaces and teeth appeared at once. "My! that was quicker than lightning," said Franklin's ghost. "It should be written up for the Saturday Evening Post," he was heard to say as he faded from sight.

      The ghost doctor beckoned and another spirit took the chair. "Napoleon," he said, "open your mouth. This will be applied, not to the bony-part, but to the gums, where you have lost your teeth." Here the result was as before, and Napoleon was banished.

      "And now," said the ghost doctor, as the spirit of William Penn sat in the chair, "you will see that in a decayed tooth, by simply making the application to the cavity, the discoloration and decay disappear and the tooth is restored." I looked and found it was so. When the spirit moved William Penn he disappeared.

      "Are you convinced now? Can you believe what you have seen? There is but one more point to be determined — that is, whether or not the same results can be obtained on mortals. There still remains enough for one more test," said he, holding up the vial of the wonderful fluid, "and as you have a space where a tooth has been lost from your lower jaw, I would like you to make the trial on yourself. I trust that you have the courage to do it, for if it proves a success in the case of mortals, not only will the sufferings of your fellow-beings be greatly reduced and your fortune be made, but also my labors in this particular line of work will be lightened. Now for the formula and then I must be gone," he said, placing the vial on the table.

      Rapidly with his finger he wrote, and as I stepped forward to see what he had written my ghost friend passed out through the window and vanished. A thin vapor arose from the tablet upon which he had written and the words glowed with phosphorescence. I hastened to copy it, fearing that the writing would disappear, and it was well that I did so, for scarcely had I finished when I found that the paper which I held was perfectly blank! Had I been dreaming? No, for there was the vial on the table where he had placed it. Should I make the test on myself? The old doctor was foremost in the profession during life, and no one ever underwent more hardship and suffering for his fellow-beings than he. Surely I can trust his advice — he never yet failed me! Here goes! And, after drawing the fluid into my hypodermic syringe, I stood before a mirror and made the application. I felt no pain, but in a few minutes there was a slight swelling over the area, which rapidly increased until I felt the presence of the tooth cusps above the gum. Another minute and the tooth had fully erupted and filled the space that had been vacant for so many years. "Eureka! Eureka! I have found it!" cried I. "My passport to the world beyond! It is clear now that there is work for me on the other side.

      "The doctors will not be kept waiting before being taken across the river, for on the other side there will be so much work to do! Think of the halt and blind and deaf to be made whole! And think of the patients awaiting to be made beautiful!"

      When Charon looks under the tongue for the obolus and finds it missing he will see the condition of the teeth, and if they are sound he will not keep a spirit waiting one hundred years for the want of the coin, as of yore, but will give it immediate ferriage free. And as each boat load is landed on the other side the Shades will enter the receiving ward, and, before passing to the Elysian Fields, they will be made as perfect as physicians and dental art can make them.