The Healer

 "Tuberculosis should not be,"
 The old professor said.
"If folks would hearken unto me
 'Twould save a million dead.
Nay, no consumptive needs to die,
 --A cure have I.

"From blood of turtle I've distilled
 An elixir of worth;
Let every sufferer be thrilled
 And sing for joy of earth;
Yet every doctor turns his back
 And calls me quack.

"Alas! They do not want to cure,
 For sickness is their meat;
So persecution I endure,
 And die in dark defeat:
Ye lungers, listen to my call!
 --I'll save you all."

The old Professor now is dead,
 And turtles of the sea,
Knowing their blood they need not shed,
 Are festive in their glee:
While sanitoriums are crammed
 With legions dammed.

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