The Swamp Doctor's Adventures in The South-West: Containing the Whole of The Louisiana Swamp Doctor; Streaks of Squatter Life; and Far-Western Scenes; In a Series of Forty-Two Humorous Southern and Western Sketches, Descriptive of Incidents and CharacterRobb, John S.
General
The Swamp Doctor's Adventures in The South-West: Containing the Whole of The Louisiana Swamp Doctor; Streaks of Squatter Life; and Far-Western Scenes; In a Series of Forty-Two Humorous Southern and Western Sketches, Descriptive of Incidents and Character
Robb, John S.
Southwest, Old -- Social life and customs
“You'd be mighty out of breath 'fore you got through with the job, doc,
if you tried to swim 'tween them, seein' as thar ten foot under. I war
fooled here myself for mor'n a year; I'd take a 'bee' for home, an' come
to this slew, an' then have to head it, on 'count of the neas; 'till one
day I got on a 'bust' in town, an' my critter got loose and struck for
home. I tract him up to whar we is, and here they stopt--the trax and me
I mean; but on t'other side I seed them, and I knowed he must have swum.
I war clean bothered to know how he got over without leaving some of his
innards on the neas,--so I tuck a stick and puncht at one of them that
war near outen the water, to see if it war a real cypress nubbin. I
missed it clear, and kerchunk I went head foremost 'mongst their sharp
points. Oh, my 'viscera!' I yelled; but I'll be cust if I toch a
nea; they war ten foot under, and thar they stay, and thar they 'tend
stayin', for they ain't grown a lick sens that time, and that war so
long ago, that the next day I seed the fust steamboat that kum up the
Yazoo skare an old buck to death, makin' him jump so fast that he sprung
plum through his skull, and the last I seed of him, as he floated down
the river, his head had hung on his lines, and one ear on each horn war
fluttering his dying elegy.”
By the time this veracious anecdote was over, we had crossed the slough,
and a ride of a few miles brought us to the cabin of my patron, who, now
elevated with whiskey, had lost his paternal solicitude, and giving way
to the garrulity of the drunkard, was making revelations concerning his
past history, which, if true, and he had his dues, would have swung him
higher than “Barn Poker,” of Coahoma, when the regulators were out.
I found my patient doing very well, Mrs. Spiffle having sent, before my
arrival, for one of those knowing old dames who match “'sperience agin
book larnin',” and detract so considerably from the physician's income.
The old lady, fortunately for the boy, had had sufficient knowledge of
surgery to replace the fingers and apply bandages.
Whether it was my naturally prepossessing phiz, or my ready acquiescence
in the correctness of her treatment, that softened the old dame, I know
not; but she appeared to take to me monstrously; and, after having
had her mind satisfied as to my name, natality, and genealogy, she
reciprocated intelligence, and, untying the scrap-bag of memory,
proceeded to make a patch-quilt for me, of a case that resembled the one
we were ministering to.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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