Part 2

At this young druggist Wenfield Pence's trial fer his life, On _primy faishy_ evidence o' pizonin' his wife, _Doc's_ testimony saved and cle'red and 'quitted him and freed Him so 's he never even 'peared cog-_ni_zant of the deed!

LXXI

The facts wuz--Sifers testified,-- at inquest he had found The stummick showed the woman _died_ o' pizon, but had downed The dos't _herse'f_,--because _amount_ and _cost_ o' drug imployed No _druggist_ would, on _no_ account, a-lavished and distroyed!

LXXII

Doc tracked a blame-don burgler down, and _nailed_ the scamp, to boot, But told him ef he'd leave the town he wouldn't prosecute. He traced him by a tied-up thumb-print in fresh putty, where Doc glazed it. Jes _that's_ how he come to track him to his lair!

LXXIII

Doc's jes a _leetle_ too inclined, _some_ thinks, to overlook The criminal and vicious kind we'd ort to bring to book And punish, 'thout no extry show o' _sympathizin'_, where _They_ hain't showed none fer _us_, you know. But he takes issue there:

LXXIV

Doc argies 'at "The Red-eyed Law," as _he_ says, "ort to learn To lay a mighty leenient paw on deeds o' sich concern As only the Good Bein' knows the wherefore of, and spreads His hands above accused and sows His mercies on their heads."

LXXV

Doc even holds 'at _murder_ hain't no crime we got a right To _hang_ a man fer--claims it's _taint_ o' _lunacy_, er _quite_.-- "Hold _sich_ a man responsibul fer murder," Doc says,--"then, When _he's_ hung, where's the rope to pull them _sound-mind_ jurymen?

LXXVI

"It's in a nutshell--_all_ kin see," says Doc,--"it's cle'r the _Law's_ As ap' to err as you er me, and kill without a cause: The man most innocent o' sin _I_'ve saw, er _'spect_ to see, Wuz servin' a life-sentence in the penitentchury."

LXXVII

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."

LXXIX

The sorriest I ever feel fer Doc is when some show Er circus comes to town and he'll not git a chance to go. 'Cause he jes natchurly _de_lights in circuses--clean down From tumblers, in their spangled tights, to trick-mule and Old Clown.

LXXX

And ever'body _knows_ it, too, how Doc is, thataway!... I mind a circus onc't come through-- wuz there myse'f that day.-- Ringmaster cracked his whip, you know, to start the ridin'--when In runs Old Clown and hollers "_Whoa!_-- Ladies and gentlemen

LXXXI

"Of this vast audience, I fain would make in_qui_ry cle'r, And learn, find out, and ascertain-- _Is Doctor Sifers here?_" And when some fool-voice bellers down: "He is! He's settin' in Full view o' ye!" "_Then_," says the Clown, "_the circus may begin!_"

LXXXII

Doc's got a _temper_; but, he says, he's learnt it which is boss, Yit has to _watch_ it, more er less.... I never seen him cross But onc't, enough to make him swear;-- milch-cow stepped on his toe, And Doc ripped out "_I doggies!_"--There's the only case I know.

LXXXIII

Doc says that's what your temper's fer-- to hold back out o' view, And learn it never to occur on out ahead o' _you_.-- "_You_ lead the way," says Sifers--"git your _temper_ back in line-- And _furdest_ back the _best_, ef it's as mean a one as mine!"

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LXXXIV

He hates contentions--can't abide a wrangle er dispute O' any kind; and he 'ull slide out of a crowd and skoot Up some back-alley 'fore he'll stand and listen to a furse When ary one's got upper-hand and t' other one's got worse.

LXXXV

Doc says: "I 'spise, when pore and weak and awk'ard talkers fails, To see it's them with hardest cheek and loudest mouth prevails.-- A' all-one-sided quarr'l'll make me _biased_, mighty near,-- 'Cause ginerly the side I take's the one I never hear."

LXXXVI

What 'peals to Doc the most and best is "seein' folks _agreed_, And takin' ekal interest and universal heed O' ever'body _else's_ words and idies--same as we Wuz glad and chirpy as the birds-- jes as we'd _ort_ to be!"

LXXXVII

And _paterotic_! Like to git Doc started, full and fair, About the war, and why 't 'uz fit, and what wuz 'complished there; "And who wuz _wrong_," says Doc, "er _right_, 't 'uz waste o' blood and tears, All prophesied in _Black_ and _White_ fer years and years and years!"

LXXXVIII

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.

XCII

Doc never wuz much hand to pay attention to _p'tence_ And fuss-and-feathers and display in men o' prominence: "A railly _great_ man," Sifers 'lows, "is not the out'ard dressed-- All uniform, salutes and bows, and swellin' out his chest.

XCIII

"I _met_ a great man onc't," Doc says, "and shuk his hand," says he, "And _he_ come 'bout in _one_, I guess, o' disapp'intin' _me_-- He talked so common-like, and brought his mind so cle'r in view And simple-like, I purt'-nigh thought, '_I'm_ best man o' the two!'"

XCIV

Yes-_sir_! Doc's got convictions and old-fashioned kind o' ways And idies 'bout this glorious Land o' Freedom; and he'll raise His hat clean off, no matter where, jes ever' time he sees The Stars and Stripes a-floatin' there and flappin' in the breeze.

XCV

And tunes like old "Red, White and Blue" 'll fairly drive him wild, Played on the brass band, marchin' through the streets! Jes like a child I've saw that man, his smile jes set, all kind o' pale and white, Bare-headed, and his eyes all wet, yit dancin' with delight!

XCVI

And yit, that very man we see all trimbly, pale and wann, Give him a case o' _surgery_, we'll see another man!-- _We_'ll do the trimblin' then, and _we_'ll git white around the gills-- He'll show us _nerve_ o' nerves, and he 'ull show us _skill_ o' skills!

XCVII

_Then_ you could toot your horns and beat your drums and bang your guns, And wave your flags and march the street, and charge, all Freedom's sons!-- And Sifers _then_, I bet my hat, 'u'd never flinch a hair, But, stiddy-handed, 'tend to that pore patient layin' there.

XCVIII

And Sifers' _eye_'s as stiddy as that hand o' his!--He'll shoot A' old-style rifle, like he has, and smallest bore, to boot, With any fancy rifles made to-day, er expert shot 'At works at shootin' like a _trade_-- and all _some_ of 'em's got!

XCIX

Let 'em go right out in the _woods_ with Doc, and leave their "traps" And blame glass-balls and queensware-goods, and see how Sifers draps A squirrel out the tallest tree.-- And 'fore he fires he'll say Jes where he'll hit him--yes, sir-_ee_! And he's hit thataway!

C

Let 'em go out with him, i jucks! with fishin'-pole and gun,-- And ekal chances, fish and ducks, and take the _rain_, er _sun_, Jes as it pours, er as it blinds the eye-sight; _then_, I guess, 'At they'd acknowledge, in their minds, their disadvantages.

CI

And yit _he'd_ be the last man out to flop his wings and crow Insultin'-like, and strut about above his fallen foe!-- No-_sir_! the hand 'at tuk the wind out o' their sails 'ud be The very first they grabbed, and grinned to feel sich sympathy.

CII

Doc gits off now and then and takes a huntin'-trip somewhere 'Bout Kankakee, up 'mongst the lakes-- sometimes'll drift round there In his canoe a week er two; then paddle clean on back By way o' old Wabash and Blue, with fish--all he kin pack,--

CIII

And wild ducks--some with feathers on 'em yit, and stuffed with grass. And neighbers--all knows he's bin _gone_-- comes round and gits a bass-- A great big double-breasted "rock," er "black," er maybe _pair_ Half fills a' ordinary crock.... Doc's _fish_'ll give out there

CIV

Long 'fore his _ducks_!--But folks'll smile and blandish him, and make Him tell and _tell_ things!--all the while enjoy 'em jes fer sake O' pleasin' _him_; and then turn in and la'nch him from the start A-tellin' all the things ag'in they railly know by heart.

CV

He's jes a _child_, 's what Sifers is! And-sir, I'd ruther see That happy, childish face o' his, and puore simplicity, Than any shape er style er plan o' mortals otherwise-- With perfect faith in God and man a-shinin' in his eyes.

TAMÁM.

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Transcriber's Note:

All variations in spelling, inconsistent hyphenation and spelling have been retained as they appear in the original text.

End of Project Gutenberg's Rubaiyat of Doc Sifers, by James Whitcomb Riley