Run for the doctor!
Dolly's very sick!
Mary, you'll have to go,
I cannot leave her;
Tell him to pack his bottles
And come quick;
I think she has got
A very dangerous fever."
In stalks a hat and cane;
If you look close,
You'll see Doctor Charlie,
Somewhere under;
He takes a pinch of snuff
And blows his nose,
While poor sick Dolly
Seems to stare in wonder.
He feels her pules, he
Gravely shakes his head:
His hat dropped o'er his eyes
With the shake he gave it;
He says poor dolly
Must be put to bed
And have her head shaved--
He, in fact, will shave it.
Poor mamma sober looks,
But says at once
That "Dolly's head shall
Not be shaved! I guess not!
Her hair would never grow
Again, you dunce!"
"It shall!" "It shan't!"
"She'll die then, if it's not!"
But Mary, ere the quarrel
Gets too grave
(Already in her hand
A bowl of gruel),
Says, "Don't you know
That doctors do not shave?
And then besides,
It really would be cruel!"
"I'll give her pills, then,
When she's safe in bed,
Plenty and sweet--of sugar
I will make them;
As dolly cannot eat,
'Twill do instead
For you and me and
Mary here to take them."