When, as the kirks were ringing in

And the gray city teemed

With Sabbath feelings and aspects,
Lewis-our Lewis then,

Now the whole world's!-and you

Young, yet in shape most like an elder, came,
Laden with BALZACS

(Big, yellow books, quite impudently French)
The first of many times,

To that transformed back-kitchen where I lay
So long, so many centuries-

Or years, is it!-ago?

Dear Charles, since then

We have been friends, Lewis and you and I,

(How good it sounds, "Lewis and you and I!"):

Such friends, I like to think

That in us three, Lewis and me and you,

Is something of that gallant dream

Which old DUMAS-the generous, the humane, The seven-and-seventy times to be forgiven!Dreamed for a blessing to the race.

The immortal MUSKETEERS.

Our Athos rests-the wise, the kind,

The liberal and august, his fault atoned,

Rests in the crowded yard

There at the west of Princes Street. We three

You, I, and Lewis!-still afoot,

Are still together, and our lives,

In chime so long, may keep

(God bless the thought!)

Unjangled till the end.

-WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY.

OLE DOCTEUR FISET

271

O

Ole Docteur Fiset

LE Docteur Fiset of Saint Anicet
Saprè tonnerre! he was leev' long tam,
I s'pose he's got ninety year or so,

Beat all on de parish 'cept Pierre Courteau,

An' day affer day he work all de sam'!

Dat house on de hill, you can see it still,

She's sam' place he buil' de firs' tam he come,
Behin' it dere's wan leetle small jardin,

Got plaintee de bes tabac Canayen,

Wit' fameuse apple, an' beeg blue plum

An' dey're all right dere, for de small boys' scare,

No matter de apple look nice an' red,
For de small boy know if he's stealin' some,
Den Docteur Fiset on dark night he come
An' cut leetle feller right off hees head!

But w'en dey was rap, an' tak' off de cap,
M'sieu' le Docteur he will say “Entrez!"
Den all de boy pass on jardin behind,'

W'ere dey eat mos' ev'ryt'ing good dey fin'

Till dey can't go on school nearly two, t'ree day!—

But Docteur Fiset, not moche fonne he get

Drivin' all over de whole contree;

If de road she's bad, if de road she's good

W'en ev'ryt'ings drown on de Spring-tam flood,
An' workin' for not'ing half-tam, mebbe!

Let her rain or snow, all he want to know

Is jus' if anywan's feelin' sick,

For Docteur Fiset's de ole fashion kin',
Doin' good was de only t'ing on hees min',
So he got no use for de politique.

An' he's careful too! 'cos firs' t'ing he do
For fear dere was danger some fever case,
Is tak' w'en he's come, leetle w'isky chaud,
Den 'noder wan too, jus' before he go,
He's so scare carry fever aroun' de place!

On nice Summer day, w'en w'ere makin' hay,
Dere's not'ing more pleasant for us I'm sure
Dan see de ole man came joggin' along
Alway singin' some leetle song,

An' hear heem say "Tiens! mes amis, Bonjour!"

An' w'en de cole rain was commence again

An' we're sittin' at home on some warm cor-nerre, If we hear de buggy an' see de light

Tearin' along t'roo de black black night

We know right off, it's de old Docteur !

44

An' he's smart horse, sure, w'at he call Faubourg"

Ev'ry place on de county he know dem all,

An' you ought to see de nice way he go
For fear he's upsettin' upon de snow
W'en ole man's asleep on de cariole.

I 'member w'en poor Hormisdas Couture
Get sick on hees place twenty mile away,
An' hees boy Ovide he was come " Raquette,"
W'at you call "Snow-s..oe," for Docteur Fiset-
An' Docteur he start wit' hees horse an' sleigh.

All de night before, de beeg storm she roar

An' mos' of de day it's de sam also
De drif' was pilin' up ten feet high,
You can't see not'ing dis side de sky,
Not'ing but wan avalanche of snow!

I'm hearin' de bell w'en I go on de well

For water de cattle on barn close by,

But I only ketch sight of hees cheval blanc
An' hees coonskin coat wit' de capuchon,

An' de storm tak' heem off jus' de sam he fly

A MEDICAL STUDENT'S LETTER

Mus' be le bon Dieu dat is help heem t'roo,
Ole Docteur Fiset an' hees horse Faubourg.".

'Y'was somet'ing for splainin', wall! I dont care
But somehow or 'nother he's gettin' dere

An' save de life Hormisdas Couture!

But it's sam alway, lak dat ev'ry day

He never was spare hese'f pour nous autres;
He don't mak' moche monee Docteur Fiset,
An' offen de only t'ing he was get

Is de poor man's prayer, an' wan bag of oat.

Wall! Doctor Fiset of Saint Anicet

He's not dead yet! an' I'm purty sure

If you're passin' dat place about ten years more,
You will see heem go roun' lak he go before,
Wit' de ole cariole an' hees horse "Faubourg."
-DR. WILLIAM HENRY Drummond.

273

A Medical Student's Letter

"If you'd go for to think for to dare for to try for to beat me at lyrics,

Man would fall down with the laughing, and woman go off in hysterics."

N vain alchemic hieroglyphs to charm me now, whereas I hum

Love-songs all day, and look as pale as OXIDE OF POTASSIUM. Oh! did I own, far, far away, some spicy and tobaccoed isle, I'd smoke and sigh the livelong day, and curse the salts of

KAKODYLE,

With SULPHURETTED HYDROGEN, AMMONIA, AND KALIUM,
And sit most sentimentally in buffo, and Haynes Bailey hum.

I cause among the Burschen all considerable merriment,

By swallowing the ALCOHOL intended for experiment;

And from the grave professors, too, incur enormous odium,
For once, instead of tea, I filled their pot with salt of SODIUM;
The world guffaws, not without cause, to see me quite deiected

thus

My languages forgotten, and my sciences neglected thus.

The old may scold, the young give tongue, fall flat the fat, and

laugh the lean,

To see me spill the GLYCERYL, and fill my pipe with NAPHTHA

LINE.

Contract four flexors, lovely Frau, and take me to your pectorals

A doctor skilled to kill or cure and readily detect your ills.
Oh! think of what a treasure in PERTUSSIS or SCIATICA,

In CATALEPSY, mullygrubs, or FACIES HYPOCRATICA.

Beware, my fair, or hear me swear, by Ahriman, that if you're stiff,

Your acid frown shall, slap bang down, precipitate me o'er a cliff.

Farewell, then, dear companions, and farewell, CENOE DEORUM, Where we talked DE REBUS OMNIBUS, with NOTAE VARIORUM. But always perorated with a scientific jorum.

We supped on THEOBROMINE, and perhaps at times we quaffed a late

Crucible of alcohol disputing of a NAPHTHALATE,

Till our noses glowed like CINNABAR, and many a yellow rum bum,

Per, hot and cold, flowed on like gold, or IODINE OF PLUMBUM, Retorts sublime, we slaked our lime, until the morning star,

boys,

Beheld us fall, with beakers all, and roll among the carboys.
But now a very absent man, I've scarcely got a word to say,
Or, if to show my teeth at all, 'tis something most absurd to say;
And even at the opera, among the gods and top-row lights,
I ruminate on behemoths and chew the cud on COPROLITES.
And shall I in suspension hang, to glorify thee, eh? Nay,
Nor in the meerchaum plunge by way of BOLNEUM ARENAE.
We are not isomorphous in our souls, thou fair deceiver,
And I to coquetry's retort decline to play receiver;
Nor would my heart amalgamate to that of a divinity
Who could not cling to mine with more than chemical affinity.