Cato. “Dat’s none you business. I dun tole you dat I is de doctor, an’ dat’s enuff.”
Ned. “Oh, do tell us whar de Doctor is. I is almos’ dead. Oh, me! oh, dear me! I is so sick.” [Horrible faces.]
Pete. “Yes, do tell us; we don’t want to stan’ here foolin’.”
Cato. “I tells you again dat I is de doctor. I larn de trade under massa.”
Ned. “Oh! well den; give me somethin’ to stop dis pain. Oh, dear me! I shall die.”
Cato. “Let me feel your pulse. Now, put out your tongue. You is berry sick. Ef you don’t mine, you’ll die. Come out in de shed, an’ I’ll bleed you.” [Taking them out and bleeding them.] “Dar, now, take dese pills, two in de mornin’, and two at night, and ef you don’t feel better, double de dose. Now, Mr. Pete, what’s de matter wid you?”
Pete. “I is got de cole chills, an’ has a fever in de night.”
“Come out in de shed, an’ I’ll bleed you,” said Cato, at the same time viewing himself in the mirror, as he passed out. After taking a quart of blood, which caused the patient to faint, they returned, the black doctor saying, “Now, take dese pills, two in de mornin’, and two at night, an’ ef dey don’t help you, double de dose. Ah! I like to forget to feel your pulse, and look at your tongue. Put out your tongue. [Feels his pulse.] Yes, I tells by de feel ob your pulse dat I is gib you de right pills?”
Just then, Mr. Parker’s negro boy Bill, with his hand up to his mouth, and evidently in great pain, entered the office without giving the usual knock at the door, and which gave great offence to the new physician.
“What you come in dat door widout knockin’ for?” exclaimed Cato.