  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.
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