Dr Morse

Under the Victoria Park train bridge in Abbotsford, a little corner presides over the ever-long commuters, dog piss and those traipsing down that end of Johnston Street.

Perhaps, you have loitered there after dark or bought a hot pie from the servo near Lulie Street when you have been stranded drunk. The pedestrian crossing is wide and sure of itself, the brickwork of the station and surrounds are red and old as Collingwood. Humble shop facades lean low over the street as they double file into Fitzroy.

A decision to better this alcove brought three folks together: a builder, a thinker and a doer. What could a corner give and what could they give a corner that didn’t involve heroin? Indian Root Pills, of course.
The answer was written — quite literally — on the wall under years of black render. A cure for indigestion-the simple remedy-best blood purifier- all to-have-you-in-good-order was in the form of a little pill.

The supposed creator was a Dr. Morse, circa 19th century USA and the brainchild of the Comstock family (of the unfortunate last name). The Doctor was a character, the spruiker and pusher-man — he could clean you right up with a wink.

He sold his story for decades: an American Indian saved Dr. Morse’s life with a remedy. The recipe was the secret to the Indian Root Pills. The End.

Excited by the images of an American Indian fighting a bear, Jon Costelloe, Anthony Daniels and Peter Walsh decided to take on the wild promises of Dr. Morse but without the gypsy spruiking. The little corner on Johnston Street would cure all hunger and thirst ailments with the help of coffee, alcohol and good food.

Welcome to the new world with Dr Morse, 274 Johnston Street Abbotsford in Melbourne, Australia. It’s where troubles of the liver and stomach can be relieved without the promise of reduced seasickness.