Now I'm freezing! Now I'm baking!
Clockwork in my cerebellum!
Oh! all over me I'm sore!
In my bed I'm writhing, tossing,
Yet I'm in a steamer, crossing.
While KIRALFY's Venice bossing,
I'm "against" and RUSSELL "for"
In a case about the _Echo_,
Somewhere out at Singapore!
It's delirium!!! Nothing more.

Then a Doctor comes in tapping
Me all over, tapping, rapping.
And with ear so close and curious
Pressed to stethoscope, "Once more,"
Says he, "sing out ninety-ninely,
Now again! You do it finely!
Yes! Not bigger than a wine lee,
There's the mischief, there's the _corps_
Of the insect that will kill us,
Hiding there is the Bacillus;
Only _that_, and nothing more!"

"Why's he here with fear to fill us?
Will he leave me, this Bacillus?
Not one bone do I feel whole in,
And of strength I've lost my store."
Thus I to the Doctor talking,
Ask "When shall I go out walking"?
He, my earnest queries baulking,