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

o. all the doctors could cite you to III th>s
ere town,
Doc Sifers is my fnvorite, l's' take MIN up
and down;
Count IL The Bethel neighborhood, ara hol.
Inns, and Big Bear,
And Sifers' standn's jes' as good as AIRY doc
tors there!
There's old Doc WEEK, and Glen, and Hall,
and Wurgler, and McVeigh,
But II, oarK %irIrs 'gin>t EN- all. and down
em any day:
Most old Wick ever knowed, l s'pose, was
whisky; Wurgler-well
lie ct morphine-ef actions shows, and facts
reliable!
But Sifers-though he amt no sot, he's got
his faults; and yit
When you git Sifers onct, you've got poe
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
cur'ol> notions, as
The TELLER >ays-iis "odd-come shots, like
smart men mostly has;
He'll n.ur'n like potter'n round the
blacksmith shop, er in
Some back lot Spadin' up the ground, err
gradin il again;
Er a the workbench, plnnin' things, er
huildin' little traps
To ketrh birds; gnIvenizin' rings, er graftin'
Make anything good as the best-a GunStork,
rI,,tn
He Whitfield our Il set O. chessman onct o
laurel root.
DIru' the army-got his trade o surgeon
there-I own
To-day tinger-ring Doc made out of "
S"ceSh bone;
An glued fiddle onct for mc-jeS' all so
busted YOU
ID a-throwed the thing away, but he jes'
fixed her good as new.
rheumatic,
Aid all the Affections hathaway, and he's
the best they is;
Er ,jylulrr,--uilk>ich- l don't keer-k-y"re
any!!.t::L lie tries
An ub>t>=~, -;,tncrtH' III Yer yeer. er GRAM
iutru,.,r>.
There WAS the W,,i,ivr Daubenspe"l. they
al glvr ny fer dead;
\ Shame cnWnuutic Oh her neck, and clean
our Nf i"r h,:t,!!
First had this doctor, what's his name, tro:n
"Puddlesburg," and then
This little red-head, "Burnin Shame" the:
call him, DR.. Glenn;
And they consulted" on the case, and
claimed she'd hat to die,
l jes' was joggin' 10y 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. WELL" says she,
Light OUT" 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,
My sulk's broke" Says !, "You hop right
on and ride with me-"
l got him there. "Well, Aunty, ten days
k-yores you," Sifers said:
But what's yer idly livin' when yer jes' as
good as dead?"
And there's Davy Banks-jes back from war.
without Il scratch-one day
Got ket.hed up in Il sick lie 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 Dear;
Be back tomorrow; gone TO tend the Bee
Convention there"
<But Jake, he tracked him; rid and rode the
whole endurin' night.
And bout the time the ROSTERS crowed they
both hove into sight.
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 wife's own mother died, fore
SifeIs could be found,
And all the neighbors, fer and wide, all
jes' chasin' round,
| Tell finally-I had TO laugh, it's jest like
Doc, you know
| Was learning for to telegraph, down at the
old dee-po.
| Bat all they're faultin Sifers fer, they's none
| of 'em kin say,
He's biggety. er keeIiess, er not posted any
way;
! He amt built on the common plan OF doc
tors nowadays;
He's jes' great, big, brainy man-that's
where the trouble lays!
JAMES WHITCoMB RILEY.
lThe HOosier Poet)
Read at the banquet Of the Indiana Med
ical Association