Dr. Dobbs Is There Besides." I
Asked Who Dr. Dobbs Might Be.
"One of our St. Louis doctors,"
replied Tete Rouge.
For two days past I had been severely attacked
by the same disorder which had so greatly reduced my strength when at
the mountains; at this time I was suffering not a little from the
sudden pain and weakness which it occasioned. Tete Rouge, in answer
to my inquiries, declared that Dr. Dobbs was a physician of the first
standing. Without at all believing him, I resolved to consult this
eminent practitioner. Walking over to the camp, I found him lying
sound asleep under one of the wagons. He offered in his own person
but an indifferent specimen of his skill, for it was five months
since I had seen so cadaverous a face.
His hat had fallen off, and his yellow hair was all in disorder; one
of his arms supplied the place of a pillow; his pantaloons were
wrinkled halfway up to his knees, and he was covered with little bits
of grass and straw, upon which he had rolled in his uneasy slumber.
A Mexican stood near, and I made him a sign that he should touch the
doctor. Up sprang the learned Dobbs, and, sitting upright, rubbed
his eyes and looked about him in great bewilderment. I regretted the
necessity of disturbing him, and said I had come to ask professional
advice. "Your system, sir, is in a disordered state," said he
solemnly, after a short examination.
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