The Book of American Negro Poetry by Unknown
page 117 of 202 (57%)
page 117 of 202 (57%)
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CALLING THE DOCTOR Ah'm sick, doctor-man, Ah'm sick! Gi' me some'n' to he'p me quick, Don't,--Ah'll die! Tried mighty hard fo' to cure mahse'f; Tried all dem t'ings on de pantry she'f; Couldn' fin' not'in' a-tall would do, An' so Ah sent fo' you. "Wha'd Ah take?" Well, le' me see: Firs',--horhound drops an' catnip tea; Den rock candy soaked in rum, An' a good sized chunk o' camphor gum; Next Ah tried was castor oil, An' snakeroot tea brought to a boil; Sassafras tea fo' to clean mah blood; But none o' dem t'ings didn' do no good. Den when home remedies seem to shirk, Dem pantry bottles was put to work: Blue-mass, laud'num, liver pills, "Sixty-six, fo' fever an' chills," Ready Relief, an' A.B.C., An' half a bottle of X.Y.Z. An' sev'al mo' Ah don't recall, Dey nevah done no good at all. |
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