Bill. Oh, dear me! Oh, it aches yet! Oh, me! Oh, Lor-e-massy! You dun pull de wrong toof. Drat your skin! ef I don’t pay you for this, you brack cuss! [They fight, and turn over table, chairs, and bench—Pete and Ned look on.]
During the melée, Dr. Gaines entered the office, and unceremoniously went at them with his cane, giving both a sound drubbing before any explanation could be offered. As soon as he could get an opportunity, Cato said, “Oh, massa! he’s to blame, sir, he’s to blame. He struck me fuss.”
Bill. “No, sir; he’s to blame; he pull de wrong toof. Oh, my toof! oh, my toof!”
NEGRO DENTISTRY.
Dr. G. “Let me see your tooth. Open your mouth. As I live, you’ve taken out the wrong tooth. I am amazed. I’ll whip you for this; I’ll whip you well. You’re a pretty doctor. Now, lie down, Bill, and let him take out the right tooth; and if he makes a mistake this time, I’ll cowhide him well. Lie down, Bill.” [Bill lies down, and Cato pulls the tooth.] “There, now, why didn’t you do that in the first place?”
Cato. “He wouldn’t hole still, sir.”
Bill. “I did hole still.”
Dr. G. “Now go home, boys; go home.”
“You’ve made a pretty muss of it, in my absence,” said the Doctor. “Look at the table! Never mind, Cato; I’ll whip you well for this conduct of yours to-day. Go to work now, and clear up the office.”