And old Dr. Gale a happenin' in at about that time, I asked him
about it (he doctored me when I wuz a baby, and I have helped 'em
for years. Good old creetur, he don't get along as well as he ort
to. Loontown is a healthy place.) I told him about my strong
desire to go to Saratoga, and I asked him plain if he thought the
water would help my pardner's corns. And he looked dreadful wise
and he riz up and walked across the floor 2 and fro several times,
probably 3 times to, and the same number of times fro, with his
arms crossed back under the skirt of his coat and his eyebrows
knit in deep thought, before he answered me. Finely he said, that
modern science had not fully demonstrated yet the direct bearing
of water on corn. In some cases it might and probably did
stimulate 'em to greater luxuriance, and then again a great flow
of water might retard their growth.

Sez I, anxiously, "Then you'd advise me to go there with him?"

"Yes," sez he, "on the hull, I advise you to go."

Them words I reported to Josiah, and sez I in anxious axents, "Dr.
Gale advises us to go."

And Josiah sez, "I guess I shan't mind what that old fool sez."

Them wuz my pardner's words, much as I hate to tell on 'em. But
from day to day I kep' it stiddy before him, how dang'r'us it wuz
to go ag'inst a doctor's advice. And from day to day he would
scorf at the plan. And I, ev'ry now and then, and mebby oftener,
would get him a extra good meal, and attack him on the subject
immegatly afterwards. But all in vain. And I see that when he