Physicians
In olden times, doctors and barbers were the same,As we find in books from which we always gainInformation on all such historic matter.As bleeding was the thing then to batterOut diseases the striped pole must beAn emblematic relic of the blood running freeDown and around our hip, thigh and knee.But the two trades have been now long separated;And while neither should be underestimatedAnd both receive their due from me and you,The barbers’ trade is not really and truly dueAs much criticism as is the medicine crew.There are plenty of fine physicians and surgeons,Who receive their praise from us in legions;But the “money-rosis” has struck the doctorsAs other trades, including divorce proctors.I well remember in the days long past,Pulse felt, and a look at the color the tongue cast,When the doctor was done, and no more was asked.He said it was simply chills and fever he did believe,Which a good dose of calomel or blue mass would relieve,All of which the patient did then and there receive.You might have had a slight pain in your head,And you were advised to lie still in bed.Now call a doctor your wife to see,And while you sent for only one to fee,Two or three more and sometimes a score,To handle the different parts of the sore,Come in and watch around your door;Especially if you’ve got money, and get more.If you fall and bruise your knee or elbowA specialist must come to whom they showSome of the dirt from the place around,To ascertain if any microbes are found.If a cough or cold comes in your head,A sample or two of the sputum that you shed,Is sealed up and sent away to be analyzed.They always find ’em, so don’t be surprised.And if plenty of money you can getTo pay all this cost and never sweat,When your bills at home are all paid,You’ll be then sent off on dress parade.Doctors never come now and find you well;Your ailments have names you cannot spell.And when you ask what you’re about to takeThe awful malady you have to try to shakeTo pronounce its name your jawbone’ll break.As simple a dose as soda and rain waterAt the drug store will cost you a quarter.All diseases now come straight from bacilliSeen through those microscopes they buy.Let these germs once your systems fillYou just as well not make your will,It’ll take the farm to pay your doctor bill,All diseases have now become contagious.And their catching qualities outrageous.When you walk do not spit on the street,Lest your saliva infect those you meet.No trains are allowed to have a drinking cupIn which others drink, lest you swallow upThe other fellow’s germs sticking to the glassOf the family of microbes in the tubercular class.No comb or brush is found to smooth your hair,They’re prohibited and blacklisted everywhere.All your water must be thoroughly boiledAnd its palatable flavor entirely spoiled,To slay the ferocious germs in it coiled.And even the milk from your fat Jersey cowShould be pasteurized as never before till now.We might run down the whole categoryTill you were tired, and I get hoary,But these very things are the doctor’s glory.Of course they are trying to lengthen life’s span,And I’m not going to censure them if I can,Only caution them to be easy as they can.They don’t catch me often, my father was a physician,And before he died, he made it his missionTo post me and make me wise on this score.I have sometimes felt peevish and soreBecause father was too honest to lay up a storeFor me to spend when I life began;My father was above all an honest man.Once my wife took pneumonic coughAnd we for a doctor sent right off.He came and found genuine bacilli.Scared me, and made the wife almost cry.They analyzed, criticised and diagnosedAnd sent her away, with my house closed;And for nights I scarcely dozed.They gave her just six months of lifeBefore consumption would part me and my wife.My plucky woman partly believed what they said,And moped around a while and stayed in bed.I had some doubts about what the specialists said,And relied a little on what an old friend read,Who had much practical experience, she said.Of course my doubts about science I hate to tell,But in a few weeks the wife was entirely well.If the doctor wants to, let him tellWhy into the aforesaid mistake he fell.Now you had all better beware and treat us fair,If you have doubts about what our troubles areJust do your best, and let nature do the rest.
In olden times, doctors and barbers were the same,As we find in books from which we always gainInformation on all such historic matter.As bleeding was the thing then to batterOut diseases the striped pole must beAn emblematic relic of the blood running freeDown and around our hip, thigh and knee.But the two trades have been now long separated;And while neither should be underestimatedAnd both receive their due from me and you,The barbers’ trade is not really and truly dueAs much criticism as is the medicine crew.There are plenty of fine physicians and surgeons,Who receive their praise from us in legions;But the “money-rosis” has struck the doctorsAs other trades, including divorce proctors.I well remember in the days long past,Pulse felt, and a look at the color the tongue cast,When the doctor was done, and no more was asked.He said it was simply chills and fever he did believe,Which a good dose of calomel or blue mass would relieve,All of which the patient did then and there receive.You might have had a slight pain in your head,And you were advised to lie still in bed.Now call a doctor your wife to see,And while you sent for only one to fee,Two or three more and sometimes a score,To handle the different parts of the sore,Come in and watch around your door;Especially if you’ve got money, and get more.If you fall and bruise your knee or elbowA specialist must come to whom they showSome of the dirt from the place around,To ascertain if any microbes are found.If a cough or cold comes in your head,A sample or two of the sputum that you shed,Is sealed up and sent away to be analyzed.They always find ’em, so don’t be surprised.And if plenty of money you can getTo pay all this cost and never sweat,When your bills at home are all paid,You’ll be then sent off on dress parade.Doctors never come now and find you well;Your ailments have names you cannot spell.And when you ask what you’re about to takeThe awful malady you have to try to shakeTo pronounce its name your jawbone’ll break.As simple a dose as soda and rain waterAt the drug store will cost you a quarter.All diseases now come straight from bacilliSeen through those microscopes they buy.Let these germs once your systems fillYou just as well not make your will,It’ll take the farm to pay your doctor bill,All diseases have now become contagious.And their catching qualities outrageous.When you walk do not spit on the street,Lest your saliva infect those you meet.No trains are allowed to have a drinking cupIn which others drink, lest you swallow upThe other fellow’s germs sticking to the glassOf the family of microbes in the tubercular class.No comb or brush is found to smooth your hair,They’re prohibited and blacklisted everywhere.All your water must be thoroughly boiledAnd its palatable flavor entirely spoiled,To slay the ferocious germs in it coiled.And even the milk from your fat Jersey cowShould be pasteurized as never before till now.We might run down the whole categoryTill you were tired, and I get hoary,But these very things are the doctor’s glory.Of course they are trying to lengthen life’s span,And I’m not going to censure them if I can,Only caution them to be easy as they can.They don’t catch me often, my father was a physician,And before he died, he made it his missionTo post me and make me wise on this score.I have sometimes felt peevish and soreBecause father was too honest to lay up a storeFor me to spend when I life began;My father was above all an honest man.Once my wife took pneumonic coughAnd we for a doctor sent right off.He came and found genuine bacilli.Scared me, and made the wife almost cry.They analyzed, criticised and diagnosedAnd sent her away, with my house closed;And for nights I scarcely dozed.They gave her just six months of lifeBefore consumption would part me and my wife.My plucky woman partly believed what they said,And moped around a while and stayed in bed.I had some doubts about what the specialists said,And relied a little on what an old friend read,Who had much practical experience, she said.Of course my doubts about science I hate to tell,But in a few weeks the wife was entirely well.If the doctor wants to, let him tellWhy into the aforesaid mistake he fell.Now you had all better beware and treat us fair,If you have doubts about what our troubles areJust do your best, and let nature do the rest.
In olden times, doctors and barbers were the same,
As we find in books from which we always gain
Information on all such historic matter.
As bleeding was the thing then to batter
Out diseases the striped pole must be
An emblematic relic of the blood running free
Down and around our hip, thigh and knee.
But the two trades have been now long separated;
And while neither should be underestimated
And both receive their due from me and you,
The barbers’ trade is not really and truly due
As much criticism as is the medicine crew.
There are plenty of fine physicians and surgeons,
Who receive their praise from us in legions;
But the “money-rosis” has struck the doctors
As other trades, including divorce proctors.
I well remember in the days long past,
Pulse felt, and a look at the color the tongue cast,
When the doctor was done, and no more was asked.
He said it was simply chills and fever he did believe,
Which a good dose of calomel or blue mass would relieve,
All of which the patient did then and there receive.
You might have had a slight pain in your head,
And you were advised to lie still in bed.
Now call a doctor your wife to see,
And while you sent for only one to fee,
Two or three more and sometimes a score,
To handle the different parts of the sore,
Come in and watch around your door;
Especially if you’ve got money, and get more.
If you fall and bruise your knee or elbow
A specialist must come to whom they show
Some of the dirt from the place around,
To ascertain if any microbes are found.
If a cough or cold comes in your head,
A sample or two of the sputum that you shed,
Is sealed up and sent away to be analyzed.
They always find ’em, so don’t be surprised.
And if plenty of money you can get
To pay all this cost and never sweat,
When your bills at home are all paid,
You’ll be then sent off on dress parade.
Doctors never come now and find you well;
Your ailments have names you cannot spell.
And when you ask what you’re about to take
The awful malady you have to try to shake
To pronounce its name your jawbone’ll break.
As simple a dose as soda and rain water
At the drug store will cost you a quarter.
All diseases now come straight from bacilli
Seen through those microscopes they buy.
Let these germs once your systems fill
You just as well not make your will,
It’ll take the farm to pay your doctor bill,
All diseases have now become contagious.
And their catching qualities outrageous.
When you walk do not spit on the street,
Lest your saliva infect those you meet.
No trains are allowed to have a drinking cup
In which others drink, lest you swallow up
The other fellow’s germs sticking to the glass
Of the family of microbes in the tubercular class.
No comb or brush is found to smooth your hair,
They’re prohibited and blacklisted everywhere.
All your water must be thoroughly boiled
And its palatable flavor entirely spoiled,
To slay the ferocious germs in it coiled.
And even the milk from your fat Jersey cow
Should be pasteurized as never before till now.
We might run down the whole category
Till you were tired, and I get hoary,
But these very things are the doctor’s glory.
Of course they are trying to lengthen life’s span,
And I’m not going to censure them if I can,
Only caution them to be easy as they can.
They don’t catch me often, my father was a physician,
And before he died, he made it his mission
To post me and make me wise on this score.
I have sometimes felt peevish and sore
Because father was too honest to lay up a store
For me to spend when I life began;
My father was above all an honest man.
Once my wife took pneumonic cough
And we for a doctor sent right off.
He came and found genuine bacilli.
Scared me, and made the wife almost cry.
They analyzed, criticised and diagnosed
And sent her away, with my house closed;
And for nights I scarcely dozed.
They gave her just six months of life
Before consumption would part me and my wife.
My plucky woman partly believed what they said,
And moped around a while and stayed in bed.
I had some doubts about what the specialists said,
And relied a little on what an old friend read,
Who had much practical experience, she said.
Of course my doubts about science I hate to tell,
But in a few weeks the wife was entirely well.
If the doctor wants to, let him tell
Why into the aforesaid mistake he fell.
Now you had all better beware and treat us fair,
If you have doubts about what our troubles are
Just do your best, and let nature do the rest.