Patient—Don’t mention the Alligator, if you please, Doctor, because I fear it will start my bowels, and again set them in a terrible and dangerous commotion. So, good night, Doctor, and may God forever bless you.
Doctor—Good night, sir.
Patient—Remember me kindly to your wife and children, Doctor.
Doctor—I will.
Patient—Good night.
Doctor—Good night. [Exeunt.]
The Doctor closes the door, and Patient skips up the street, singing, a la Bayadere:
Happy am I,
From piles I’m free,
Why are not all
Merry like me?