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قراءة كتاب An Alphabet of History
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 4
awful lot of bother, for 'tis claimed that as to medicine he was the pioneer,
That but for him the surgeon or the latter-day chirurgeon might never have been tinkering the human running gear.
Hippocrates' diploma never threw him into coma in his efforts to decipher what its classic diction said,
For when he was seeking practice—long ago—the simple fact is that the Latin tongue was common and was very far from dead.
For when he was seeking practice—long ago—the simple fact is that the Latin tongue was common and was very far from dead.
He often growled, "Dad gum it!" when he felt the glossy summit of his head, which was as bald as any shiny billiard ball—
But old Hip had to endure it, for he knew he couldn't cure it, and that once his hair was falling, why, he had to let it fall.
But old Hip had to endure it, for he knew he couldn't cure it, and that once his hair was falling, why, he had to let it fall.
He was written up by Plato (who was quite a hot potato when it came to mental effort, for you know he reasoned well);
Plato praised his diagnosis, called him healing's patient Moses, and though facts were hard to gather, found a goodly lot to tell.
Plato praised his diagnosis, called him healing's patient Moses, and though facts were hard to gather, found a goodly lot to tell.
Hippocrates had knowledge, though he didn't go to college; he could speak of all diseases that he knew, in Latin terms
(Still, 'twas only second nature to affect that nomenclature), but he never even thought of, much less heard of, any germs.
(Still, 'twas only second nature to affect that nomenclature), but he never even thought of, much less heard of, any germs.
Streptococcus or bacillus such as get in us and kill us to Hippocrates were always undiscovered and unknown,
And the grim appendicitis which today is sure to fright us, was by Dr. Hip considered but a stomach-achic groan.
And the grim appendicitis which today is sure to fright us, was by Dr. Hip considered but a stomach-achic groan.
Were he living at this moment, would the world be in a foment? Would physicians of the present take him out to see the town?
From New Jersey clear to Joppa not a one would call him "Papa," and his theories and treatments would be greeted with a frown.
From New Jersey clear to Joppa not a one would call him "Papa," and his theories and treatments would be greeted with a frown.
We must say that he was clever, and that in one way, however, he resembled all the others who are treating human ills—
He was constantly complaining that in spite of all his training he could never cure his patients of the trait of dodging bills.
He was constantly complaining that in spite of all his training he could never cure his patients of the trait of dodging bills.
IAGO
Iago as a villain was a master of his craft,
And yet he did not work at all as modern villains do;
No one can rise and say that bold Iago hoarsely laughed
When some one demonstrated that his stories were untrue.
He did not swagger on the stage in evening clothes, and mutter,
Nor bite his finger nails in baffled anger now and then;
He never turned and left the stage with nothing else to utter
Except: "Aha! Proud beauty! I shall not be foiled again!"
And yet he did not work at all as modern villains do;
No one can rise and say that bold Iago hoarsely laughed
When some one demonstrated that his stories were untrue.
He did not swagger on the stage in evening clothes, and mutter,
Nor bite his finger nails in baffled anger now and then;
He never turned and left the stage with nothing else to utter
Except: "Aha! Proud beauty! I shall not be foiled again!"
Iago did not hover near the old deserted mill
To hurl the daring hero in the waters of the race;
He never frowned and ground his teeth and burned the hidden will
Or kidnapped any children just to complicate the case.
Iago was not like the villains that we have at present;
He didn't even try to scowl or to look like the part.
Iago as a villain was continually pleasant,
And never gave the notion that he had a stony heart.
To hurl the daring hero in the waters of the race;
He never frowned and ground his teeth and burned the hidden will
Or kidnapped any children just to complicate the case.
Iago was not like the villains that we have at present;
He didn't even try to scowl or to look like the part.
Iago as a villain was continually pleasant,
And never gave the notion that he had a stony heart.
Othello was his victim—and Iago's work was good,
But still Iago doesn't seem to get the proper praise;
Othello, as the hero—as all proper heroes should—
Stood calmly in the spotlight and corralled the wreathing bays.
Since then there is no villain of the art of good Iago—
At least we haven't seen an actor who approached him yet;
The villains we have noticed from Galveston to Chicago
Have hissed through black mustaches and have smoked the cigaret.
But still Iago doesn't seem to get the proper praise;
Othello, as the hero—as all proper heroes should—
Stood calmly in the spotlight and corralled the wreathing bays.
Since then there is no villain of the art of good Iago—
At least we haven't seen an actor who approached him yet;
The villains we have noticed from Galveston to Chicago
Have hissed through black mustaches and have smoked the cigaret.
JONSON
O rare Ben Jonson, you who wrote
"To Celia,"
Presager of that later note
,"Bedelia,"
To you, rare Ben, our hat we raise
For all your poems and your plays.
"To Celia,"
Presager of that later note
,"Bedelia,"
To you, rare Ben, our hat we raise
For all your poems and your plays.
You knew, forsooth, if Shakespeare's work
Was taken,
Like copies by a scrawling clerk,
From Bacon;
You would have known of that flimflam
Without a hidden cryptogram.
Was taken,
Like copies by a scrawling clerk,
From Bacon;
You would have known of that flimflam
Without a hidden cryptogram.
O rare Ben Jonson, with your pen
You labored,
And with brave lords and gentlemen
You neighbored—
You never turned out feeble farce
In sentences that would not parse.
You labored,
And with brave lords and gentlemen
You neighbored—
You never turned out feeble farce
In sentences that would not parse.
To managers you ne'er were made
To grovel,
And, Ben, you never called a spade
A shovel—
Where you wrote sentences risqué
We now have costumes very gay.
To grovel,
And, Ben, you never called a spade
A shovel—
Where you wrote sentences risqué
We now have costumes very gay.
O rare Ben Jonson, when you asked
That lady
To drink, her name you never masked
As "Sadie,"
Nor did you call her "Creole Belle"
Or half the song names we might tell.
That lady
To drink, her name you never masked
As "Sadie,"
Nor did you call her "Creole Belle"
Or half the song names we might tell.
"Drink to me only with thine eyes!"
Your sighing
Showed you no steins of any size
Were buying.
But from the way the stanzas run,
You, rare Ben Jonson, were well done.
Your sighing
Showed you no steins of any size
Were buying.
But from the way the stanzas run,
You, rare Ben Jonson, were well done.
KIDD
Oh, William Kidd was a pirate bold,
Yo ho, my lads, yo ho!
He sailed the seas in search of gold,
Yo ho, my lads, yo ho!
He sailed on both sides of the line,
The skull and bones he made his sign;
Where he found wealth, he said: "That's mine!"
Three centuries ago.
Yo ho, my lads, yo ho!
He sailed the seas in search of gold,
Yo ho, my lads, yo ho!
He sailed on both sides of the line,
The skull and bones he made his sign;
Where he found wealth, he said: "That's mine!"
Three centuries ago.