Chicago Tribune, December 6, 1892. If you died in a hospital in 1892, it meant that you were dirt-poor and had absolutely no other options than to let local physicians practice on you. The latter could then market their improved skills to better-off clients who wouldn’t be caught dead entering a hospital. And if no one stepped forward to claim your corpse and pay your funeral expenses, it meant you were bound for slab in an anatomy class, where a bunch of med-school punks would whittle you to bits and probably use your body parts for their lame and obnoxious pranks. That was a fate most people really wanted to avoid, so Jeweler Young was a friend indeed to both T.B. Smiths.