“Such callousness,” said Doctor Brown, “I cannot comprehend;
To fathom such indifference I simply don’t pretend.
One ought to do his duty, and I never am remiss.
A simple word of thanks is all I ask. Here, swallow this!”
Then, reaching in the tonneau, he’d unpack his little kit,
And perform an operation that was workmanlike and fit.
“You may survive,” said Doctor Brown; “it’s happened once or twice.
If not, you’ve had the benefit of competent advice.”
Oh, if all our motormaniacs were equally humane,
How little bitterness there’d be, or reason to complain!
How different our point of view if we were ridden down
By lunatics as thoughtful as gentle Doctor Brown!
IN THE GALLERY
Weirder than the pictures
Are the folks who come
With their owlish strictures—
Telling why they’re bum.
Of all lines of babble
This one has the call:
Picture gallery gabble
Is the best of all.
Literary fluffle
Never, never cloys;
Much has Mrs. Guffle
Added to my joys.
For that chitter-chatter
I delight to fall.
But the picture patter
Is the best of all.
With the music highbrows
I delight to chat,
Elevating my brows
Over this and that.
Music tittle-tattle
Never fails to thrall.
But the picture prattle
Is the best of all.
Sociologic rub-dub
I delight to hear;
Philosophic flub-dub
Titillates my ear.
Lovelier yet the spiffle
In the picture hall;
For the picture piffle
Is the best of all.