Doc Sifers Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AA BBCC DDEF DDCC GGHI JJDD KKLL JJJJ DDMM DDNJN DDN D ODD DPPC DDQQ DDRS DDJJ| A | |
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| Of all the doctors I could cite you to in this 'ere town | B |
| Doc Sifers is my favorite jes' take him up and down | B |
| Count in the Bethel Neighberhood and Rollins and Big Bear | C |
| And Sifers' standin's jes' as good as ary doctor's there | C |
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| There's old Doc Wick and Glenn and Hall and Wurgler and McVeigh | D |
| But I'll buck Sifers 'ginst 'em all and down 'em any day | D |
| Most old Wick ever knowed I s'pose was whisky Wurgler well | E |
| He et morphine ef actions shows and facts' reliable | F |
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| But Sifers though he ain't no sot he's got his faults and yit | D |
| When you git Sifers one't you've got a doctor don't fergit | D |
| He ain't much at his office er his house er anywhere | C |
| You'd natchurly think certain far to ketch the feller there | C |
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| But don't blame Doc he's got all sorts o' cur'ous notions as | G |
| The feller says his odd come shorts like smart men mostly has | G |
| He'll more'n like be potter'n 'round the Blacksmith Shop er in | H |
| Some back lot spadin' up the ground er gradin' it agin | I |
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| Er at the workbench planin' things er buildin' little traps | J |
| To ketch birds galvenizin' rings er graftin' plums perhaps | J |
| Make anything good as the best a gunstock er a flute | D |
| He whittled out a set o' chesstmen one't o' laurel root | D |
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| Durin' the Army got his trade o' surgeon there I own | K |
| To day a finger ring Doc made out of a Sesesh bone | K |
| An' glued a fiddle one't far me jes' all so busted you | L |
| 'D a throwed the thing away but he fixed her as good as new | L |
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| And take Doc now in ager say er biles er rheumatiz | J |
| And all afflictions thataway and he's the best they is | J |
| Er janders milksick I don't keer k yore anything he tries | J |
| A abscess getherin' in yer yeer er granilated eyes | J |
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| There was the Widder Daubenspeck they all give up far dead | D |
| A blame cowbuncle on her neck and clean out of her head | D |
| First had this doctor what's his name from 'Puddlesburg ' and then | M |
| This little red head 'Burnin' Shame' they call him Dr Glenn | M |
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| And they 'consulted' on the case and claimed she'd haf to die | D |
| I jes' was joggin' by the place and heerd her dorter cry | D |
| And stops and calls her to the fence and I says I 'Let me | N |
| Send Sifers bet you fifteen cents he'll k yore her ' 'Well ' says | J |
| she | N |
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| 'Light out ' she says And lipp tee cut I loped in town and rid | D |
| 'Bout two hours more to find him but I kussed him when I did | D |
| He was down at the Gunsmith Shop a stuffin' birds Says he | N |
| 'My sulky's broke ' Says I 'You hop right on and ride with me ' | - |
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| I got him there 'Well Aunty ten days k yores you ' Sifers said | D |
| 'But what's yer idy livin' when yer jes' as good as dead ' | - |
| And there's Dave Banks jes' back from war without a scratch one | O |
| day | D |
| Got ketched up in a sickle bar a reaper runaway | D |
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| His shoulders arms and hands and legs jes' sawed in strips And | D |
| Jake | P |
| Dunn starts far Sifers feller begs to shoot him far God sake | P |
| Doc 'course was gone but he had penned the notice 'At Big Bear | C |
| Be back to morry Gone to 'tend the Bee Convention there ' | - |
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| But Jake he tracked him rid and rode the whole endurin' night | D |
| And 'bout the time the roosters crowed they both hove into sight | D |
| Doc had to ampitate but 'greed to save Dave's arms and swore | Q |
| He could a saved his legs ef he'd ben there the day before | Q |
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| Like when his wife's own mother died 'fore Sifers could be found | D |
| And all the neighbors far and wide a' all jes' chasin' round | D |
| Tel finally I had to laugh it's jes' like Doc you know | R |
| Was learnin' far to telegraph down at the old deepo | S |
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| But all they're faultin' Sifers far there's none of 'em kin say | D |
| He's biggoty er keerless er not posted anyway | D |
| He ain't built on the common plan of doctors now a days | J |
| He's jes' a great big brainy man that's where the trouble lays | J |
James Whitcomb Riley
(1)
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