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
Surely, I thought, as a keen gust came round the corner, piercing my
marrow with its coldness, her tender frame will not be exposed on such
a day as this! 'tis a good thing, too; for she would be horrified if
she found what my burden was;--when her smiling face, with her beautiful
nose red as an inflamed eye, appeared, and told me I did not possess a
proper appreciation of the strength of a Kentucky gal's affection.
Somewhat vexed, and, for the first time in my life, sorry to see her,
I wished her (as it was so cold) in the hottest place I knew of; but
dissembling my feelings, I vowed, when she came up, that if I had
received the appointment of surgeon-general to the angels, it could not
give me more pleasure than to see her then. I appeared as unconcerned
as I could, and sedulously talked to her of such things as are very
interesting to lovers and old maids, but deuced tiresome to all other
parties concerned.
We had nearly reached the street corner where we usually parted, when,
horror of horrors! who should we see coming round the identical corner
but the lady's father, accompanied by a man that bore a marvellous
resemblance to the city marshal!
Instead of fainting, Lucy uttered a stifled shriek, and gritting her
teeth dragged me into a house, the door of which stood invitingly open;
one step more, and if Fate had not been against me, these pages would
never have been written, that baby would have been anatomized, and in
all probability, instead of being an old rusty swamp doctor, “caring a
cuss for nobody, nobody caring for me,” I would have been the happy head
of a family, and, rolling in my carriage, describe the great operation
of extracting two jaw-teeth, I saw performed the last time I was in
Paris. But the beautiful hath departed, and never was.
A growl, a loud yell, bow! wow! wow! and with mouth distended like an
alligator catching his dessert of flies, a huge bull dog sprang at us,
placing us in rather a dilemma; it was the dog of a daddy on one hand,
and the daddy of a dog on the other.
Unlike Miss Ullin, who preferred meeting the raging of the skies to an
angry father, embarked in a skiff and got drowned, I preferred an angry
father to a mad bull dog; so seizing Lucy, I made a spring backwards,
forgetting in my haste the slippery pavement; our feet flew up, and down
we came in the open street, cross and pile, our inferior extremities
considerably intermingled, and her ankles not as well protected from the
heat as they might have been.
My cloak flew open as I fell, and the force of the fall bursting its
envelope, out, in all its hideous realities, rolled the infernal imp of
darkness upon the gaze of the laughing, but now horrified spectators.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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