Thus, the songs o’ me,
The works o’ thee,
The Earth’s own bloom,
Are HIM.
The interest of Dr. X. in this phenomenon brought an eminent psychologist, associated with one of the greatest state universities in the country, some distance from Missouri, for an interview with Patience. He shall be known here as Dr. V. With him and Dr. X. was Dr. K., a physician. Dr. V. sat at the board first, and Patience said to him:
“Here be a one, verily, that hath a sword. Aye, and he doth to wrap it o’er o’ silks. Yea, but I do say unto thee, he doth set the cups o’ measure at aright, and doth set not the word o’ me as her ahere (Mrs. Curran). Nay, not till he hath seen and tasted o’ the loaf o’ me; and e’en athen he would to take o’ the loaf and crumb o’ it to bits and look unto the crumb and wag much afore he putteth. And he wilt be assured o’ the truth afore the putting.”
This was discussed as a character delineation.
Patience.—“I’d set at reasoning. Since the townsmen do fetch aforth for the seek o’ me, and pry aneath the me o’ me, then do thou alike. Yea, put thou unto me.”
Dr. V.—“Why fear Death?”
Patience.—“Thou shouldst eat o’ the loaf (her writings). Ayea, ’tis right and meet that flesh shrinketh at the lash.”