232 THE MIcROSCOPE. 
Selections. 
THE DOCTOR’S PRAYER. 
BY M. F. CLAYTON, M. D. 
My Father 
Aesculapius, patron saint, 
Bow down thine ear to my complaint; 
Hear thou my prayer. 
Give ear unto my plaintive moan ;— 
Hear me while I deeply groan, 
In blank despair. 
My patients all are getting well; 
What I’m to do I cannot tell, 
To make the coin. 
My calling list is very short; 
At night I have a light report, 
As sure’s you’re born. 
The best of health prevails around 
The regions of my stamping ground, 
So I am poor. 
Though I have long upheld the cause, 
And tried to study Nature’s laws 
With motives pure. 
The undertaker won’t divide; 
So I am bound to have his hide 
By curing all. 
This makes me popular you know, 
And so I often have to go 
To make a call. 
as But half the work I’ve done to-day 
Was for the folks that could not pay 
A single cent. 
And soI have to cure them quick, 
Although I found them very sick 
Where e’er I went, 
