A DOKETOR'S DRUBBLES.
I youst to bin a doketor vonce,
Vat koored all kints ov gases;
Und in my bragtis I have met
A goot mainy deaferent fases.
Vor dwendy milse round vere I leved,
De beeple vas gwite seekly;
Boud vonce a veek I galled arount,
Und zo I vound um veekly.
Soam vas seek mit vone decease,
Und soam dey had anoder,
Und soam you vooden't doght vood leve
Vrom one ent do de oder.
Bud pooty soon I vound dot oud
My bocket book was dhry,
Und also my oxpensays
Vas runing oval high.
So I vent oud gollecting;
Bud aifery vere I vent,
My batients vas oxhorseted,—
Dey vas not vort a cendt.
Und I vent und seed vone men,
He vas briefing hees preath lasht;
I doght de gwicker I got dot,
De sooner it vas kashed.
So I showed de men hees node,
Und I dold heem do pay;
Hees dime vas shoost up,
Dot vos hees lasht tay.
Hees hands vas in each bocked,
Und dots vy I doght so sdrange;
He died—und hees lasht vords vas,
"I don'd veel ainy shange."
Und vone sed do me, "Doketor,
Howefer can I pay?
You know dot I'm not aple—
I'm vailing afery tay."