And biled that chicken-broth, and got that dinner—all complete
And clean and crisp and good and hot as mortal ever eat!
And Cynth and Euby both'll say 'at Doc'll git as good
Meals-vittles up, jes any day, as any woman could!
XXVIII
Time Sister Abbick tuk so bad with striffen o' the lung,
P'tracted Meetin', where she had jes shouted, prayed and sung
All winter long, through snow and thaw,—when Sifers come, says he:
"No, M'lissy; don't poke out your raw and cloven tongue at me!—
XXIX
"I know, without no symptoms but them injarubber-shoes
You promised me to never putt a fool-foot in ner use
At purril o' your life!" he said. "And I won't save you now,
Onless—here on your dyin' bed—you consecrate your vow!"
XXX
Without a-claimin' any creed, Doc's rail religious views
Nobody knows—ner got no need o' knowin' whilse he choose
To be heerd not of man, ner raise no loud, vainglorious prayers
In crowded marts, er public ways, er—i jucks, anywheres!—
XXXI
'Less 'n it is away deep down in his own heart, at night,
Facin' the storm, when all the town's a-sleepin' snug and tight—
Him splashin' hence from scenes o' pride and sloth and gilded show,
To some pore sufferer's bedside o' anguish, don't you know!