"Let me feel your pulse;" at the same time taking his patient's hand in his, and placing his fingers upon his pulse, he said,—
"Ah! your case is a bad one; ef I don't do something for you, and dat pretty quick, you'll be a gone coons and dat's sartin."
At this the man appeared frightened, and inquired what was the matter with him, in answer to which Sam said,
"I done told dat your case is a bad one, and dat's enuff."
On Sam's returning to his master's bedside, the latter said,
"Well, Sam, what do you think is the matter with him?"
"His stomach is out ob order, sar," he replied.
"What do you think had better be done for him?"
"I tink I'd better bleed him and gib him a dose ob calomel," returned Sam.
So, to the latter's gratification, the master let him have his own way.