For his skin, “like a lady’s loose gown,” hung about him.
He sent for a Doctor; and cried, like a ninny,
“I have lost many pounds—make me well—there’s a guinea.”
The Doctor look’d wise:—“a slow fever,” he said:
Prescribe’d sudorificks,—and going to bed.
“Sudorificks in bed,” exclaim’d Will, “are humbugs!
I’ve enough of them there, without paying for drugs!”
Will kick’d out the Doctor:—but, when ill indeed,
E’en dismissing the Doctor don’t always succeed;
So, calling his host—he said—“Sir, do you know,