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