"Oh, he's a remarkable man, the Doctor, a very remarkable man. But
listen, boy, listen, you'll never hear the like again."
So of course they listened--with all their ears, and their eyes and
their mouths, too.
"I will introjooce to you," went on the grand speech, "the famous
Indian"--yes, that's just what he said,--"the famous Indian,
Chief-Afraid-of-a-Rat. Come on, Chief, don't scare the ladies, and
don't scalp the little boys as long as they're good."
[Illustration: "Out of that hat he drew a rabbit, a live white rabbit,
and held it up by its ears for all to see."]
Then up on that wagon stepped a big Indian with moccasins on his feet,
and a dress of deerskin with beads embroidered on it, and a headdress
of many feathers and many colors too. He opened his mouth wide, and said
something that sounded like a speech and yet like a song:--
"Ging-goo, ging goo, ging goo!
Tunk a tin, tunk a tin, tunk a tin!
Geegry goo, geegry goo,
All-a-man lissen!"
That's what the Red Indian with all the feathers said, and it sounded
very impressive.
As it was so hard for anyone who didn't know the real Indian language
to understand, the man with the long hair and tall silk hat, this wise
Dr. Philemon Pipp, explained it.
"The noble red man, the last of his tribe, Chief-Afraid-of-a-Rat,"
said he, "is a great medicine man. He says that from his native soil
he has distilled a wonderrful medicine that works like magic."
Then, wetting his lips, he leaned over and picked up one of the big
bottles that was full of black juice like the water the children used
to make from licorice sticks.
"If yuh have a pain or an ache, a misery in yuh back, if yuh suffah
from stomach-ache or tooth-ache, or an ache in the head; if yuh feet
burn and blister; if yuh tongue evah feels thick; if yuh feel a leetle
inclined to dizzyness--in fact, if yuh have any ache or trouble in the
world, this medicine will cure yuh, will bring instant relief."
Then he took another bottle and said some more:
"One bottle of this medicine is worth five dollahs. Who would not give
a paltry five dollahs for to be cured of his miseries? But--ladees and
gents, because I was once born in your beautiful ceety I will sell--"
"Why, he even forgot its name," whispered Jehosophat.
"Shush," whispered the Toyman right back at him, "don't give him
away."
But, instead, of Jehosophat giving him away, it seemed Dr. Pipp was
going to give something away himself, for he was saying in his
speech,--
"Because I was once born in your beautiful ceety, I will give
away--for this night only--a whole bottle of this magic medicine for
the trifling sum of fifty cents!"
That was very generous, thought the boys, and they said so to the
Toyman, but again he told them to "wait an' see."
And then Dr. Philemon Pipp turned to the crowd of men and boys and
hollered real loud like the minister at camp-meeting,--
"Who'll be the first to be cuhed? Who'll be the first to be happy
again?"
And one by one the silly people went down in their pockets, and
brought up their fifty-cent pieces, and handed them up to the man on
the wagon.
You see, every one must have had at least one of the kinds of pains
and aches Dr. Pipp talked about, for he mentioned every one in the
world.
Marmaduke thought that black medicine would be fine for the Toyman.
"Toyman," he said, "buy a bottle, an' it will cure you of that bad
rheumatism."
"No," replied the Toyman, "that won't cure even chilblains. That old
codger's not telling the truth. And the people are fools to believe
him."
But all this time Dr. Pipp was handing out the bottles with one hand,
and collecting the fifty-cent pieces with the other, and the Red
Indian was singing his funny song,--
"Ging goo, ging goo,
Hunk-a-tin, hunk-a-tin, hunk-a-tin,
Geegry goo, geegry goo,
All-a-man lissen!"
And the light nickered on the funny pictures of the skeleton and the
man with his skin off, and then on Dr. Philemon Pipp with his long
black hair and tall silk hat, and on the feathers of the Red Indian,
as he danced up and down singing that funny song.
At last something stranger still happened.