Paul Gerard Smith
  Along towards the end of the summer
All was peace at the Pinwinkle place,
For 'Erb was confined to 'is boudoir
With little red dots on 'is face.

The Pinwinkles summonsed a doctor
Whose record was known far and wide,
For of forty-four patients 'e'd treated
All forty-four patients 'ad died.

They felt, with 'is able assistance
Young 'Erb couldn't pull through alive,
As, with forty-four straight to 'is credit
'E would try for a straight forty-five.

They paid 'im a shilling a visit,
And, tho they begroodged every cent,
If the doctor's luck only 'eld out with young 'Erb
They considered it money well spent.

"'E's upstairs," said Pa to the doctor
"'E's now in your 'ands... do your best."
"I shall," said the doctor, "do unto your 'Erb
As I've done unto all of the rest,"
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