Doctor. Where are they?
Giz. In m' pocket.
[They chew in silence for a minute.]
Doctor. Yes, sir! It smelled like ker'sene ter me—and ker'sene 't wuz.... Ker'sene'll cure heaps o' things if you use it right.
[He punctuates his talk with covert glances at Giz. His thoughts are on the pills.]
Doctor. Which pocket yer pills in, Giz?
Giz [discouragingly]. M' hip pocket.
[Again they chew.]
Doctor. The Family Medicine Book where I learned ter be a doctor said camphor an' ker'sene an' lard rubbed on flannel an' put on the chest 'ud cure tizic, maybe. [He looks at Giz.]
Doctor. An' what ud cure tizic ought ter cure anything, I think.... I'd 'a' cured m' second wife if the winder hadn't blowed out an' she got kivered with snow. Atter that she jus' wheezed until she couldn't wheeze no longer. An' so when I went courtin' m' third wife, I took a stitch in time an' told her about the camphor an' ker'sene an' lard. [Ruefully.] She's a tur'ble healthy woman. [His feelings and his curiosity having overcome his tact, he blurts out.] Giz, why'n th' hell don't yer show us yer pills!