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Updated: May 27, 2025
The facts in Mrs. Whistler's case were these: Mrs. Whistler has singular absence of mind, and on the last Sunday she attended church Dr. Dox began to read from the Scriptures the account of the Deluge. Mrs.
"Maybe it's a buffalo," remarked Dr. Dox. "No, no kind of an animal. Something else with two horns. Mighty queer I can't recall it." "Perhaps it's a brass band," observed Butterwick. "Or a man who's had a couple of drinks," suggested Dr. Brown. "Of course not." "You don't mean a fire company?" asked Mrs. Banger. "N no.
They all looked upon the boy wonderingly, for the fox head with its sharp nose and pointed ears was gone, and in its place appeared the chubby round face and blue eyes and pretty curls that had belonged to Button-Bright before King Dox of Foxville transformed him. "Oh, what a darling!" cried Polly, and would have hugged the little one had he not been so wet.
"Or a snail," remarked Judge Twiddler. "N no; none of those." "Is it an elephant or a walrus?" asked Mrs. Dox. "I guess I'll have to give it up," said Mr. Lamb, wiping the perspiration from his brow. "Well, that's the sickest old story I ever encountered," remarked Butterwick to Potts. Then everybody smiled, and Mr.
'Yes, indeed! and what sort of a society! the dowager Copping interjected. 'None but bachelor-tables, I can assure you. Oh! I remember him. They talked of fetching him to Dox Hall. I said, No, thank you, Tom; this isn't your Vauxhall. 'A sharp retort, said Lady Jocelyn, 'a most conclusive rhyme; but you're mistaken. Many families were glad to see him, I hear.
When he had been insensible, yet out of pain, nearly eight minutes by the clock, Sampson chloroformed him again. "I'll puzzle ye, my friend strych," said he. "How will ye get your perriodical paroxysms when the man is insensible? The Dox say y' act direct on the spinal marrow. Well, there's the spinal marrow where you found it just now. Act on it again, my lad! I give ye leave if ye can.
"No; I never saw him until you found him in the road, and then only in my Magic Picture." "And did you send Polly to us?" "No, dear; the Rainbow's Daughter slid from her father's pretty arch just in time to meet you." "Well," said Dorothy, "I've promised King Dox of Foxville and King Kik-a-bray of Dunkiton that I'd ask you to invite them to your party."
There was some horse-racing over at the Blank course one day last fall, and Butterwick attended to witness it. On his way home in the cars in the afternoon he encountered Rev. Dr. Dox, a clergyman who knows no more about horse-racing than a Pawnee knows about psychology.
"I beg your pardon," said Dot; "I did not wish to hurt your feelings, Para , Pa ra dox us." "Ornithorhynchus Paradoxus, if you please," insisted the little creature. "How would you like it if your name was Jones-Smith-Jones, and I called you one Jones, or one Smith, and did not say both the Jones and the Smiths? You have no idea how sensitive our race is.
"I beg your pardon," said Dot; "I did not wish to hurt your feelings, Para Pa ra dox us." "ORNITHORHYNCHUS Paradoxus, if you please," insisted the little creature. "How would you like it if your name was Jones-Smith-Jones, and I called you one Jones, or one Smith, and did not say both the Joneses and the Smiths? You have no idea how sensitive our race is.
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