Page:Pieces People Ask For.djvu/86

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The doctor came, stood by the bed,
And, looking solemn, gravely said,
"Malaria—'tis plainly seen—
Three times a day give him quinine."
Growled grandmamma, "Oh! fiddle-dee-dee!
He's only bilious—seems to me."

One day our grandpa—eighty-four—
Complained that he could see no more;
That, at his age, it worried him
That his good eyesight should grow dim.
"I've often seen it act that way,"
The doctor solemnly did say:
"Malaria—'tis plainly seen—
Three times a day give him quinine."
But grandma said, "I never see!
Old man, you're growing old, like me!"


You ask me whether I'm High Church,
You ask me whether I'm Low:
I wish you'd tell the difference,
For I'm sure that I don't know.
I'm just a plain old body,
And my brain works pretty slow;
So I don't know whether I'm High Church,
And I don't know whether I'm Low.

I'm trying to be a Christian,
In the plain, old-fashioned way,
Laid down in my mother's Bible,
And I read it every day,—
Our blessed Lord's life in the Gospels,
Or a comforting Psalm of old,
Or a bit from the Revelation
Of the city whose streets are gold.

Then I pray,—why, I'm generally praying,
Though I don't always kneel or speak out,
But I ask the dear Lord, and keep asking,
Till I fear he is all tired out;