Stanzas XXI–XXX

XXI
And Doc he say he thought 'at he
could knit a stitch er two--
"Bring the materials to me--
'at's all I'm astin' you!"
And down he sets--six weeks, i jing!
and knits that seine plum done--
Made corks too, brails and ever'thing--
good as a boughten one!

XXII
Doc's public sperit--when the sick
's not takin' all his time
And he's got some fer politics--
is simple yit sublime:--
He'll talk his principles--and they
air honest;--but the sly
Friend strikes him first, election-day,
he'd 'commodate, er die!

XXIII
And yit, though Doc, as all men knows,
is square straight up and down,
That vote o' his is--well, I s'pose--
the cheapest one in town;--
A fact 'at's sad to verify,
as could be done on oath--
I've voted Doc myse'f--And I
was criminal fer both!

XXIV
You kin corrupt the ballot-box--corrupt
yourse'f, as well--
Corrupt some neighbers,--but
old Doc's as oncorruptible
As Holy Writ. So putt a pin
right there!--Let Sifers be,
I jucks! he wouldn't vote agin
his own worst inimy!

XXV
When Cynthy Eubanks laid so low
with fever, and Doc Glenn
Told Euby Cynth 'ud haf to go--
they sends fer Sifers then!...
Doc sized the case: "She's starved," says he,
"fer warter--yes, and meat!
The treatment 'at she'll git from me
's all she kin drink and eat!"

XXVI
He orders Euby then to split
some wood, and take and build
A fire in kitchen-stove, and git
a young spring-chicken killed;
And jes whirled in and th'owed his hat
and coat there on the bed,
And warshed his hands and sailed in that
-air kitchen, Euby said,

XXVII
And biled that chicken-broth, and got
that dinner--all complete
And clean and crisp and good and hot
as mortal ever eat!
And Cynth and Euby both'll say
'at Doc'll git as good
Meals-vittles up, jes any day,
as any woman could!

XXVIII
Time Sister Abbick tuk so bad
with striffen o' the lung,
P'tracted Meetin', where she had
jes shouted, prayed and sung
All winter long, through snow and thaw,--
when Sifers come, says he:
"No, M'lissy; don't poke out your raw
and cloven tongue at me!--

XXIX
"I know, without no symptoms but
them injarubber-shoes
You promised me to never putt
a fool-foot in ner use
At purril o' your life!" he said.
"And I won't save you now,
Onless--here on your dyin' bed--
you consecrate your vow!"

XXX
Without a-claimin' any creed,
Doc's rail religious views
Nobody knows--ner got no need
o' knowin' whilse he choose
To be heerd not of man, ner raise
no loud, vainglorious prayers
In crowded marts, er public ways,
er--i jucks, anywheres!--