The Project Gutenberg eBook of Rubáiyát of Doc Sifers This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook. Title: Rubáiyát of Doc Sifers Author: James Whitcomb Riley Illustrator: C. M. Relyea Release date: June 22, 2010 [eBook #32944] Language: English Credits: Produced by David Edwards, Therese Wright and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUBÁIYÁT OF DOC SIFERS *** Produced by David Edwards, Therese Wright and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) RUBÁIYÁT OF DOC SIFERS BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY Other Books by James Whitcomb Riley POEMS HERE AT HOME. NEGHBORLY POEMS. SKETCHES IN PROSE AND OCCASIONAL VERSES. AFTERWHILES. PIPES O' PAN (Prose and Verse). RHYMES OF CHILDHOOD. FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT. OLD-FASHIONED ROSES (English Edition). GREEN FIELDS AND RUNNING BROOKS. ARMAZINDY. A CHILD-WORLD. AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE. [Illustration] --------------------------- RUBÁIYÁT OF DOC SIFERS BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY --------------------------- ILLUSTRATED BY C. M. RELYEA [Illustration] PUBLISHED BY THE CENTURY CO. NEW YORK M DCCC XC VII Copyright, 1897, BY THE CENTURY CO. Copyright, 1897, BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE DE VINNE PRESS. TO DR. FRANKLIN W. HAYS THE LOYAL CHUM OF MY LATEST YOUTH AND LIKE FRIEND AND COMRADE STILL WITH ALL GRATEFUL AFFECTION OF THE AUTHOR. _We found him in that Far-away_ _that yet to us seems near--_ _We vagrants of but yesterday_ _when idlest youth was here,--_ _When lightest song and laziest mirth_ _possessed us through and through,_ _And all the dreamy summer-earth_ _seemed drugged with morning dew:_ _When our ambition scarce had shot_ _a stalk or blade indeed:_ _Yours,--choked as in the garden-spot_ _you still deferred to "weed":_ _Mine,--but a pipe half-cleared of pith--_ _as now it flats and whines_ _In sympathetic cadence with_ _a hiccough in the lines._ _Aye, even then--O timely hour!--_ _the High Gods did confer_ _In our behalf:--And, clothed in power,_ _lo, came their Courier--_ _Not winged with flame nor shod with wind,--_ _but ambling down the pike_, _Horseback, with saddlebags behind,_ _and guise all human-like._ _And it was given us to see,_ _beneath his rustic rind,_ _A native force and mastery_ _of such inspiring kind,_ _That half unconsciously we made_ _obeisance.--Smiling, thus_ _His soul shone from his eyes and laid_ _its glory over us._ * * * * * _Though, faring still that Far-away_ _that yet to us seems near,_ _His form, through mists of yesterday,_ _fades from the vision here,_ _Forever as he rides, it is_ _in retinue divine,--_ _The hearts of all his time are his,_ _with your hale heart and mine._ [Illustration] RUBÁIYÁT OF DOC SIFERS BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY [Illustration] RUBÁIYÁT OF DOC SIFERS I Ef you don't know DOC SIFERS I'll jes argy, here and now, You've bin a mighty little while about here, anyhow! 'Cause Doc he's rid these roads and woods-- er _swum_ 'em, now and then-- And practised in this neighberhood sence hain't no tellin' when! II In radius o' fifteen mile'd, all p'ints o' compass round, No man er woman, chick er child, er team, on top o' ground, But knows _him_--yes, and got respects and likin' fer him, too, Fer all his so-to-speak dee-fects o' genius showin' through! III Some claims he's absent-minded; some has said they wuz afeard To take his powders when he come and dosed 'em out, and 'peared To have his mind on somepin' else-- like County Ditch, er some New way o' tannin' mussrat-pelts, er makin' butter come. [Illustration] IV He's cur'ous--they hain't no mistake about it!--but he's got Enough o' extry brains to make a _jury_--like as not. They's no _describin'_ Sifers,--fer, when all is said and done, He's jes _hisse'f Doc Sifers_--ner they hain't no other one! V Doc's allus sociable, polite, and 'greeable, you'll find-- Pervidin' ef you strike him right and nothin' on his mind,-- Like in some _hurry_, when they've sent fer Sifers _quick_, you see, To 'tend some sawmill-accident, er picnic jamboree; VI Er when the lightnin' 's struck some hare- brained harvest-hand; er in Some 'tempt o' suicidin'--where they'd ort to try ag'in! I've _knowed_ Doc haul up from a trot and talk a' hour er two When railly he'd a-ort o' not a-stopped fer "_Howdy-do!_" [Illustration] [Illustration] VII And then, I've met him 'long the road, _a-lopin'_,--starin' straight Ahead,--and yit he never knowed me when I hollered "_Yate, Old Saddlebags!_" all hearty-like, er "_Who you goin' to kill?_" And he'd say nothin'--only hike on faster, starin' still! VIII I'd bin insulted, many a time, ef I jes wuzn't shore Doc didn't mean a thing. And I'm not tetchy any more Sence that-air day, ef he'd a-jes a-stopped to jaw with _me_, They'd bin a little dorter less in my own fambily! IX Times _now_, at home, when Sifers' name comes up, I jes _let on_, You know, 'at I think Doc's to _blame_, the way he's bin and gone And disapp'inted folks--'Ll-_jee_-mun-_nee_! you'd ort to then Jes hear my wife light into me-- "_ongratefulest o' men!_" [Illustration] [Illustration] X 'Mongst _all_ the women--mild er rough, splendifferous er plain, Er them _with_ sense, er not enough to come in out the rain,-- Jes ever' shape and build and style o' women, fat er slim-- They all like Doc, and got a smile and pleasant word fer _him_! XI Ner hain't no horse I've ever saw but what'll neigh and try To sidle up to him, and paw, and sense him, ear-and-eye: Then jes a tetch o' Doc's old pa'm, to pat 'em, er to shove Along their nose--and they're as ca'm as any cooin' dove! XII And same with _dogs_,--take any breed, er strain, er pedigree, Er racial caste 'at can't concede no use fer you er me,-- They'll putt all predju-dice aside in _Doc's_ case and go in Kahoots with him, as satisfied as he wuz kith-and-kin! XIII And Doc's a wonder, trainin' pets!-- He's got a chicken-hawk, In kind o' half-cage, where he sets out in the gyarden-walk, And got that wild bird trained so tame, he'll loose him, and he'll fly Clean to the woods!--Doc calls his name-- and he'll come, by-and-by! [Illustration] XIV Some says no money down ud buy that bird o' Doc.--Ner no Inducement to the _bird_, says I, 'at _he'd_ let _Sifers_ go! And Doc _he_ say 'at _he's_ content-- long as a bird o' prey Kin 'bide _him_, it's a _compliment_, and takes it thataway. XV But, gittin' back to _docterin'_--all the sick and in distress, And old and pore, and weak and small, and lone and motherless,-- I jes tell _you_ I 'preciate the man 'at 's got the love To "go ye forth and ministrate!" as Scriptur' tells us of. XVI _Dull_ times, Doc jes _mi_anders round, in that old rig o' his: And hain't no tellin' where he's bound ner guessin' where he is; He'll drive, they tell, jes thataway fer maybe six er eight Days at a stretch; and neighbers say he's bin clean round the State. XVII He picked a' old tramp up, one trip, 'bout eighty mile'd from here, And fetched him home and k-yored his hip, and kep' him 'bout a year; And feller said--in all _his_ ja'nts round this terreschul ball 'At no man wuz a _circumstance_ to _Doc_!--he topped 'em all!-- [Illustration] XVIII Said, bark o' trees 's a' open book to Doc, and vines and moss He read like writin'--with a look knowed ever' dot and cross: Said, stars at night wuz jes as good 's a compass: said, he s'pose You couldn't lose Doc in the woods the darkest night that blows! XIX Said, Doc'll tell you, purty clos't, by underbresh and plants, How fur off _warter_ is,--and 'most perdict the sort o' chance You'll have o' findin' _fish_; and how they're liable to _bite_, And whether they're a-bitin' now, er only after night. XX And, whilse we're talkin' _fish_,--I mind they formed a fishin'-crowd (When folks _could_ fish 'thout gittin' _fined_, and seinin' wuz allowed!) O' leadin' citizens, you know, to go and seine "Old Blue"-- But hadn't no big seine, and so-- w'y, what wuz they to do?... XXI And Doc he say he thought 'at _he_ could _knit_ a stitch er two-- "Bring the _materials_ to me-- 'at's all I'm astin' you!" And down he sets--six weeks, i jing! and knits that seine plum done-- Made corks too, brails and ever'thing-- good as a boughten one! [Illustration] XXII Doc's _public_ sperit--when the sick 's not takin' _all_ his time And he's got _some_ fer politics-- is simple yit sublime:-- He'll _talk_ his _principles_--and they air _honest_;--but the sly Friend strikes him first, election-day, he'd 'commodate, er die! XXIII And yit, though Doc, as all men knows, is square straight up and down, That vote o' his is--well, I s'pose-- the cheapest one in town;-- A fact 'at's sad to verify, as could be done on oath-- I've voted Doc myse'f--_And I was criminal fer both!_ XXIV You kin corrupt the _ballot-box_--corrupt _yourse'f_, as well-- Corrupt _some_ neighbers,--but old Doc's as oncorruptible As Holy Writ. So putt a pin right there!--Let _Sifers_ be, I jucks! he wouldn't vote agin his own worst inimy! XXV When Cynthy Eubanks laid so low with fever, and Doc Glenn Told Euby Cynth 'ud haf to go-- they sends fer _Sifers_ then!... Doc sized the case: "She's starved," says he, "fer _warter_--yes, and _meat_! The treatment 'at she'll git from _me_ 's all she kin drink and eat!" [Illustration] XXVI He orders Euby then to split some wood, and take and build A fire in kitchen-stove, and git a young spring-chicken killed; And jes whirled in and th'owed his hat and coat there on the bed, And warshed his hands and sailed in that -air kitchen, Euby said, XXVII And biled that chicken-broth, and got that dinner--all complete And clean and crisp and good and hot as mortal ever eat! And Cynth and Euby both'll say 'at Doc'll git as good Meals-vittles up, jes any day, as any _woman_ could! XXVIII Time Sister Abbick tuk so bad with striffen o' the lung, P'tracted Meetin', where she had jes shouted, prayed and sung All winter long, through snow and thaw,-- when Sifers come, says he: "No, M'lissy; don't poke out your raw and cloven tongue at me!-- XXIX "I know, without no symptoms but them _injarubber-shoes_ You promised me to never putt a fool-foot in ner use At purril o' your life!" he said. "And I won't save you _now_, Onless--here on your dyin' bed-- you consecrate your vow!" XXX Without a-claimin' _any creed_, Doc's rail religious views Nobody knows--ner got no _need_ o' knowin' whilse he choose To be heerd not of man, ner raise no loud, vainglorious prayers In crowded marts, er public ways, er--i jucks, _any_wheres!-- [Illustration] XXXI 'Less 'n it _is_ away deep down in his own heart, at night, Facin' the storm, when all the town 's a-sleepin' snug and tight-- Him splashin' hence from scenes o' pride and sloth and gilded show, To some pore sufferer's bedside o' anguish, don't you know! XXXII Er maybe dead o' _winter_--makes no odds to _Doc_,--he's got To face the weather ef it takes the hide off! 'cause he'll not _Lie_ out o' goin' and p'tend he's sick hisse'f--like _some_ 'At I could name 'at folks might send fer and they'd _never_ come! [Illustration] XXXIII Like pore Phin Hoover--when he goes to that last dance o' his! That Chris'mus when his feet wuz froze-- and Doc saved all they is Left of 'em--"'Nough," as Phin say now, "to _track_ me by, and be A adver_tise_ment, anyhow, o' what Doc's done fer me!-- XXXIV "When _he_ come--knife-and-saw"--Phin say, "I knowed, ef I'd the spunk, 'At Doc 'ud fix me up _some_ way, ef nothin' but my _trunk_ Wuz left, he'd fasten _casters_ in, and have me, spick-and-span, A-skootin' round the streets ag'in as spry as any man!" XXXV Doc sees a patient's _got_ to quit-- he'll ease him down serene As dozin' off to sleep, and yit not dope him with mor-_pheen_.-- He won't tell _what_--jes 'lows 'at he has "airn't the right to sing 'O grave, where is thy victery! O death, where is thy sting!'" XXXVI And, mind ye now!--it's not in scoff and scorn, by long degree, 'At Doc gits things like that-un off: it's jes his _shority_ And total faith in Life to Come,-- w'y, "from that _Land o' Bliss_," He says, "we'll haf to chuckle some, a-lookin' back at this!" [Illustration] [Illustration] XXXVII And, still in p'int, I mind, one _night o' 'nitiation_ at Some secert lodge, 'at Doc set right down on 'em, square and flat, When they mixed up some Scriptur' and wuz _funnin'_-like--w'y, he Lit in 'em with a rep'imand 'at ripped 'em, A to Z! XXXVIII And onc't--when gineral loafin'-place wuz old Shoe-Shop--and all The gang 'ud git in there and brace their backs ag'inst the wall And _settle_ questions that had went onsettled long enough,-- Like "wuz no Heav'n--ner no torment"-- _jes talkin' awful rough!_ [Illustration] XXXIX There wuz Sloke Haines and old Ike Knight and Coonrod Simmes--all three Ag'inst the Bible and the Light, and scoutin' Deity. "_Science_," says Ike, "it _dimonstrates_-- it takes nobody's word-- _Scriptur'_ er not,--it _'vestigates_ ef sich things could occurred!" XL Well, Doc he heerd this,--he'd drapped in a minute, fer to git A tore-off heel pegged on agin,-- and, as he stood on it And stomped and grinned, he says to Ike, "I s'pose now, purty soon Some lightnin'-bug, indignant-like, 'll ''vestigate' the moon!... XLI "No, Ike," says Doc, "this world hain't saw no brains like yourn and mine With sense enough to grasp a law 'at takes a brain divine.-- I've bared the thoughts of brains in doubt, and felt their finest pulse,-- And mortal brains jes won't turn out omnipotent results!" XLII And Doc he's got respects to spare the _rich_ as well as _pore_-- Says he, "I'd turn no _millionaire_ onsheltered from my door."-- Says he, "What's wealth to him in quest o' _honest_ friends to back And love him fer _hisse'f_?--not jes because he's made his jack!" [Illustration] [Illustration] XLIII And childern.--_Childern?_ Lawzy-day! Doc _worships_ 'em!--You call Round at his house and _ast_ 'em!-- they're a-_swarmin'_ there--that's all!-- They're in his _Li_b'ry--in best room-- in kitchen--fur and near,-- In office too, and, I p'sume, his operatin'-cheer! XLIV You know they's men 'at _bees_ won't sting?-- They's plaguey _few_,--but Doc He's one o' _them_.--And same, i jing! with _childern_;--they jes flock Round Sifers _natchurl_!--in his lap, and in his pockets, too, And in his old fur mitts and cap, and _heart_ as warm and true! XLV It's cur'ous, too,--'cause Doc hain't got no childern of his own-- 'Ceptin' the ones he's tuk and brought up, 'at's bin left alone. And orphans when their father died, er mother,--and Doc he Has he'pped their dyin' satisfied.-- "The child shall live with me [Illustration] [Illustration] XLVI "And Winniferd, my wife," he'd say, and stop right there, and cle'r His th'oat, and go on thinkin' way _some_ mother-hearts down here Can't never feel _their own_ babe's face a-pressin' 'em, ner make Their naked breasts a restin'-place fer any baby's sake. XLVII Doc's _Li_b'ry--as he calls it,--well, they's ha'f-a-dozen she'ves Jam-full o' books--I couldn't tell _how_ many--count yourse'ves! _One whole she'f's_ Works on Medicine! and most the rest's about First Settlement, and Indians in here,--'fore we driv 'em out.-- XLVIII And Plutarch's Lives--and life also o' Dan'el Boone, and this- Here Mungo Park, and Adam Poe-- jes all the _lives_ they is! And Doc's got all the _novels_ out,-- by Scott and Dickison And Cooper.--And, I make no doubt, he's read 'em ever' one! [Illustration: Doc's Lib'ry] XLIX Onc't, in his office, settin' there, with crowd o' eight er nine Old neighbers with the time to spare, and Doc a-feelin' fine, A man rid up from Rollins, jes fer Doc to write him out Some blame p'scription--done, I guess, in minute, nigh about.-- [Illustration] L And _I_ says, "Doc, you 'pear so spry, jes write me that recei't You have fer bein' _happy_ by,-- fer that 'u'd shorely beat Your _medicine_!" says I.--And quick as _s'cat!_ Doc turned and writ And handed me: "Go he'p the sick, and putt your heart in it." LI And then, "A-talkin' furder 'bout that line o' thought," says he, "Ef we'll jes do the work cut out and give' to you and me, We'll lack no joy, ner appetite, ner all we'd ort to eat, And sleep like childern ever' night-- as puore and ca'm and sweet." LII Doc _has_ bin 'cused o' _offishness_ and lack o' talkin' free And extry friendly; but he says, "I'm _'feard_ o' talk," says he,-- "I've got," he says, "a natchurl turn fer talkin' fit to kill.-- The best and hardest thing to learn is trick o' keepin' still." LIII Doc _kin_ smoke, and I s'pose he _might_ drink licker--jes fer fun. He says, "_You_ smoke, _you_ drink all right; but _I_ don't--neether one"-- Says, "I _like_ whiskey--'good old rye'-- but like it in its place, Like that-air warter in your eye, er nose there on your face." LIV Doc's bound to have his joke! The day he got that off on me I jes had sold a load o' hay at "Scofield's Livery," And tolled Doc in the shed they kep' the hears't in, where I'd hid The stuff 'at got me "out o' step," as Sifers said it did. LV Doc hain't, to say, no "_rollin' stone_," and yit he hain't no hand Fer '_cumulatin_'.--_Home_'s his own, and scrap o' farmin'-land-- Enough to keep him out the way when folks is tuk down sick The suddentest--'most any day they want him 'special quick. [Illustration] LVI And yit Doc loves his practice; ner don't, wilful, want to slight No call--no matter who--how fur away--er day er night.-- He loves his work--he loves his friends-- June, Winter, Fall, and Spring: His _lovin'_--facts is--never ends; he loves jes _ever_'thing.... LVII 'Cept--_keepin' books_. He never sets down no accounts.--He hates, The worst of all, collectin' debts-- the worst, the more he waits.-- I've knowed him, when at last he _had_ to dun a man, to end By makin' him a loan--and mad he hadn't more to lend. LVIII When Pence's Drug Store ust to be in full blast, they wuz some Doc's patients got things frekantly there, charged to him, i gum!-- Doc run a bill there, don't you know, and allus when he squared, He never questioned nothin',--so he had his feelin's spared. LIX Now sich as that, I hold and claim, hain't _'scusable_--it's not _Perfessional!_--It's jes a shame 'at Doc hisse'f hain't got No better _business_-sense! That's why lots 'd respect him more, And not give him the clean go-by fer _other_ doctors. Shore! [Illustration] LX This-here Doc _Glenn_, fer instance; er this little jack-leg _Hall_;-- They're _business_--folks respects 'em fer their _business_ more 'n all They ever knowed, er ever _will_, 'bout _medicine_.--Yit they Collect their money, k-yore er kill.-- They're _business_, anyway! [Illustration] LXI You ast Jake Dunn;--he's worked it out in _figgers_.--He kin show _Stastistics_ how Doc's airnt about _three_ fortunes in a row,-- Ever' ten-year' hand-runnin' straight-- _three_ of 'em--_thirty_ year' 'At Jake kin count and 'lucidate o' Sifers' practice here. LXII Yit--"Praise the Lord," says Doc, "we've got our little home!" says he-- "(It's railly _Winniferd's_, but what she owns, she sheers with me.) We' got our little gyarden-spot, and peach- and apple-trees, And stable, too, and chicken-lot, and eighteen hive' o' bees." [Illustration] [Blank Page] LXIII _You_ call it anything you please, but it's _witchcraft_--the power 'At Sifers has o' handlin' bees!-- He'll watch 'em by the hour-- Mix right amongst 'em, mad and hot and swarmin'!--yit they won't Sting _him_, er _want_ to--_'pear_ to not,-- at least I know they _don't_. LXIV With _me_ and bees they's no _p'tense_ o' social-bility-- A dad-burn bee 'u'd climb a fence to git a whack at _me_! I s'pose no thing 'at's _got_ a sting is railly satisfied It's _sharp_ enough, ontel, i jing! he's honed it on my hide! LXV And Doc he's allus had a knack _inventin'_ things.--Dee-vised A windlass wound its own se'f back as it run down: and s'prised Their new hired girl with _clothes-line_, too, and _clothes-pins_, all in _one_: Purt'-nigh all left fer _her_ to do wuz git her _primpin'_ done! LXVI And onc't, I mind, in airly Spring, and tappin' sugar-trees, Doc made a dad-burn little thing to sharpen _spiles_ with--these- Here wood'-spouts 'at the peth's punched out, and driv' in where they bore The auger-holes. He sharpened 'bout _a million_ spiles er more! [Illustration] [Illustration] LXVII And Doc's the first man ever swung a _bucket_ on a tree Instid o' _troughs_; and first man brung _grained_ sugar--so's 'at he Could use it fer his coffee, and fer cookin', don't you know.-- Folks come clean up from Pleasantland 'fore they'd _believe_ it, though! LXVIII And all Doc's stable-doors _on_locks and locks _theirse'ves_--and gates The same way;--all rigged up like clocks, with pulleys, wheels, and weights,-- So, 's Doc says, "drivin' _out_, er _in_, they'll _open_; and they'll _then_, All quiet-like, shet up ag'in like little gentlemen!" LXIX And Doc 'ud made a mighty good _detective_.--Neighbers all Will testify to _that_--er _could_, ef they wuz legal call: His theories on any crime is worth your listenin' to.-- And he has hit 'em, many a time, 'long 'fore established true. [Illustration] LXX 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: [Illustration] [Illustration] 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." [Illustration] 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." [Illustration] 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!" [Illustration] [Blank Page] 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!" [Illustration] 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. [Illustration] [Illustration] 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. [Illustration] 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! [Illustration] 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,-- [Illustration] 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. [Illustration] 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. [Illustration] TAMÁM. * * * * * 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 *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUBÁIYÁT OF DOC SIFERS *** Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed. Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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