And Doc's a whole hand at a fire!—
directin' how and where
To set your ladders, low er higher,
and what first duties air,—
Like formin' warter-bucket-line;
and best man in the town
To chop holes in old roofs, and mine
defective chimblies down:
LXXVIII
Er durin' any public crowd,
mass-meetin', er big day,
Where ladies ortn't be allowed,
as I've heerd Sifers say,—
When they's a suddent rush somewhere,
it's Doc's voice, ca'm and cle'r,
Says, "Fall back, men, and give her air!—
that's all she's faintin' fer."