THE doctor lives by chicken pox, by measles, and by mumps. He keeps a microbe in a box and cheers him when he jumps at unsuspecting children, who have two important nurses; but if it bounds where less than two are kept, he simply curses. His greed is such that though you ache in every limb, be sure if there is nothing else to take, he'll take your temperature. And if at first he can't succeed, he has another try, and takes your pulse. Some people plead "The man must live!" But why? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEFORE THE BIRTH OF ONE OF HER CHILDREN by ANNE BRADSTREET ON COMMUNISTS; EPIGRAM by EBENEZER ELLIOTT THE GRAPE-VINE SWING by WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS A FORSAKEN GARDEN by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE DEPARTED by JOHN BANISTER TABB INHERITANCE by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH GLENDEN'S DREAM by EMILY JANE BRONTE |