|When folks are feeling blithe and gay,
With ne'er an ache or pain,
They gad about the house all day
And chant this old refrain:
"The doctor is a useless wight,
His medicine a fake;
He doses me with aconite
To cure the stomach ache.
"Now there was Uncle Hiram's kid,
Whose name was Ezra Stout,
He had the measles, so he did,
But wouldn't blossom out.
"They sent for Dr. So-and-So
Who diagnosed the case
As rheumatiz and vertigo
And dropsy of the face.
"And then he sent an awful bill
Which showed he had the cheek___
I never have one when I'm ill
My faith in them is weak."
But when folks get to feeling blue
And have to go to bed,
With maybe just a chill or two
And dizzy in the head___
They swear they have the grip or bots
Or other fatal ills
And send right off for Dr. Watts
To come and feed them pills.
Verdigris Valley Verse
(Coffeyville, Kansas: The Journal Press. 1917)