And then he'll likely kind o' tetch
on old John Brown, and dwell
On what his warnin's wuz; and ketch
his breath and cough, and tell
On down to Lincoln's death. And then—
well, he jes chokes and quits
With "I must go now, gentlemen!"
and grabs his hat, and gits!
LXXXIX
Doc's own war-rickord wuzn't won
so much in line o' fight
As line o' work and nussin' done
the wownded, day and night.—
His wuz the hand, through dark and dawn,
'at bound their wownds, and laid
As soft as their own mother's on
their forreds when they prayed....
XC
His wuz the face they saw the first—
all dim, but smilin' bright,
As they come to and knowed the worst,
yit saw the old Red-White-
And-Blue where Doc had fixed it where
they'd see it wavin' still,
Out through the open tent-flap there,
er 'cros't the winder-sill.
XCI
And some's a-limpin' round here yit—
a-waitin' Last Review,—
'U'd give the pensions 'at they git,
and pawn their crutches, too,
To he'p Doc out, ef he wuz pressed
financial'—same as he
Has allus he'pped them when distressed—
ner never tuk a fee.