"Harriet," said Professor Hopkins, "what is the matter with your head? Your hair is all gone!"
"Why, dat's where dey shaved it off befo' dey cut my head open."
"Cut your head open, Harriet? What do you mean?"
"Wal, sir, when I was in Boston I walked out one day, an' I saw a great big buildin', an' I asked a man what it was, an' he said it was a hospital. So I went right in, an' I saw a young man dere, an' I said, 'Sir, are you a doctah?' an' he said he was; den I said, 'Sir, do you t'ink you could cut my head open?'
"'What do you want your head cut open fer?' he said.
"Den I tol' him de whole story, an' how my head was givin' me a powerful sight of trouble lately, with achin' an' buzzin', so I couldn' get no sleep at night.
"An' he said, 'Lay right down on dis yer table,' an' I lay down."
"Didn't he give you anything to deaden the pain, Harriet?"
"No, sir; I jes' lay down like a lamb fo' de slaughter, an' he sawed open my skull, an' raised it up, an' now it feels more comfortable." "Did you suffer very much?"
"Yes, sir, it hurt, ob cose; but I got up an' put on my bonnet an' started to walk home, but my legs kin' o' gin out under me, an' dey sont fer a ambulance an' sont me home."