University of Virginia Library

IV.

Shepherd Boy.
Oh, doctor dear, I am so ill.

His Father.
Yes, give him a draught;

His Mother.
Or give him a pill.

Doctor.
Ahem! This is a strange disease,
Of a kind one very seldom sees;
The boy has something on his mind.

The Mother.
To Barbara he was much inclined,
And Barbara nobody can find.

Doctor.
Hah! crossed in love? His pulse is quick,
His eyes are wild, his blood runs thick;
And by my art I do declare
There is but one thing, anywhere,
To cure the boy of this his illness.

The Father.
Then do not hush it up in stillness.

The Mother.
No, tell us, doctor!

Doctor
(sternly).
My receipt
May make you think my skill a cheat;
But you will find my words come true,
So please to pay attention due!
Of his disease I know the cause;
The cure is—pet-lamb with mint-sauce.

The Father.
Lamb and mint-sauce! Why, that with ease
We can provide!

Doctor.
But his disease
Calls for pet-lamb—not common lamb.

The Mother.
Somewhat perplexed I really am.
Will not an ordinary creature
Do just as well?

Doctor.
Are you my teacher?
Ma'am, my prescription must be heeded!
Pet-lamb and mint-sauce here are needed,
In four-and-twenty hours at most,
Or else your son gives up the ghost!

The Father
(agitated).
I will go seek our good town-crier—
He for a pet-lamb shall inquire;
And you, my dear, prepare the sauce.

The Mother.
The strangest day that ever was!