Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000, 1889-11-06
"Doo sifers."

Doc sifers Is my favorite. Jcs' take him up
and down;
Count N the Bethel neighborhood, and hols
Inns, and Big Bear,
And sifers' standin's jess as good as airy docs
tors there!
There's old Doc Week. and Glen, and Hall,
and wurgler, and McVeigh,
But II, oack sifcrs ginst 'cm all. and down
'em any day:
Most old Wick ever knowed, l s'pose, was
whisky; Wurgler-wsll
He ct morphine-ef actions shows, aud facts
reliable!
But sifers-though he Amt no sot, he's got
his faults; and yit
When you git Sifers onct, you've got Doc
TOR, don't forgit!
He amt much at his office, er his house, er
anywhere
You'd natchurly think certain fer to ketch
the feler there;
But don't blame Doc-he's got all sorts O.
curious notions, as
The Teller says-hs "odd-come shoIts,' like
smart men mostly has;
He'll MORN like potter'n round the
blacksmith shop, er in
Some back lot spadin' up the ground, er
gradin' it again;
Err at the workbench, planin' things, er
buildin' little traps f.,
To ketch birds; galvenizin' rings, er graftin
plans, perhaps,
Make anything, good as the best-a gunstock,
era flute;
He whitfield out set o. chessman onct O.
laurel root.
Durin' the army-got his trade o. surgeon
there-I own
To-day finger-ring Doc made out of a
Secesh bone;
An glued Il fiddle onct for me-jes' all so
busted you
ID a-throwed the thing away, but he jes'
fixed her good as new.
And take Doc, now in ager, say, er biles, err
rheumatic,
Aid all the Affections thataway, and he's
the best they is;
Err jant,ers-milksick-Id don't keer-k-yore
anything he tries
An ubsceSS, satherin' in yer yeer, er grant
lated (! Us.
There was the Widder Daubenspeck. they
all give up fer dead;
\ blame cow0umcie OH her neck, and clean
out of her head.
First had this doctor, what's his name, from
"Puddlesburg," and then
| This little red-head, "Burnin Shame" they
call him, DR.. Glenn;
And they consulted" on the case, and
claimed she'd hat to die,
jes' was joggin' by the place, and heerd
her dorter cry,
And stops and calls her to the fence, and l.
says-I, LET me
Send sifers-bet you fifteen cents he'll k-yore
her!" "Wen," says she,
Light QUIT" she says. And, lip-tee-cut,
Hoped in town, and rid
/ Bout two hours more to find him, but
| kussed him when did.
He was down at the gunsmith shop a-stuffin
birds. Says he, o..
''My sulk's broke" Says /, "You hop right
| on and ride with me-"
1 got him there. "Well, Aunty, ten days
k-yores you," Sifers said;
"But what's yer Idly uvin' when yer jes' as
good as dead?"
And there's Davy Banks-jes' back from war
| without a scratch-one day
| Got ket.hed up in a -bar-a reaper run
away.
His shoulders, arms, and hands, and legs,
| jes' sawed in strips; and Jake
Dunn starts for Sifers-feller begs to shoot
| him for God-sake!
| Doc course was gone, but he had penned the
| notice, "At Big Gear;
Be back tomorrow; gone TO tend the Bee
| Convention there"
SBut Jake, he tracked him; rid and rode the
| whole endurin' night.
| And bout the time the ROSTERS cYoWed they
both hove tosiglIt.
Doc had to amputate, but greed to save
Dawes arms, an swore - -,-.
He could a-saved his legs eff he'd been there
the day before.
Like when his wifes own mother died, fore
SifeIs could be found,
And all the neighbors, fer and wide, o al
jes' ehasin' round, II
Tell finally-I had to laugh, it's jest like
| Doc, you know
| Was learning for to telegraph, down at tn
old dee-po .-y:.-a.-...
=
But all they're faultin' sifers fer, they's nom
of 'em kin say,
He's biggety, err keeIless, er not posted any
| way;
He amt built on the common plan OF doe
| tors nowadays;
He's jes' a great, big, brainy man-that'
where the trouble lays! ,..,-- e. ...--s---
JAMES WHITCoMB RILEY.
| frhe Hoosier Poet.)
Read at the banquet Of the Indiana Med
ical Association.