Indiana University School of Dentistry - Prognosis Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

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Will you step into my parlor?' lsjllle El,T'1T'IHlnz 5-uxj-rg-5-N IDZTNTTT H QQE 5 7 Said the dentist to the guyg It's the swellest dental parlor That ever you did spy. Now have that tooth extracted- You no longer need refraing In my modus operandi There is not the slightest pain. So you step across the threshold Of his cunning little lair, .-Xnd he lands you very quickly In his cushioned dental chair. Then he props your mouth wide open He's a human sort of guy- And he asks you twenty questions When he knows you can't reply. Then a drill that would be famous On the Panama he takes, And Vesuvius is an infant To the earthquake he creates. The Dentist and the yGuy 'Y , After weary hours of torture, Having hammered, ground and drilled Gleefully he then assures you That the nerve must now be killed. Oh, the agony you suffered! Words can scarce describe the pain- While the dentist blandly tells you Of his methods, safe and sane. And he keeps right on tormenting With his hammer, tile and saw In a manner most distracting To that molar in your jaw. Through this pain excruciating, Staring at you all the while There's a mural decoration Asking why you do not smile. Well, you ask me how I know this? Where I got this bloomin' hunch? Let me tell you, gentle reader, That I had a toothache once.

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Tillie THE. SHXTIZEN HDENT QJD3Ej There was an old man from Torrentum Who chewed his false teeth till he bent 'umg I X When asked for the cost s 4 y Of what he had lost X X He said, It ain't nothing, I rent 'um. K f Q A dentist there was, so benighted, Q i A ' He never knew when he was slightedg X- 9, - Q Q - He went to a party And ate just as hearty 3-r As if he'd been really invited. uv- atsilc mth . There was a young man from Leconia Whose mother-in-law had pneumoniag They hoped for the worst, And April the first A dentist bold, from I. D. C., They buried her 'neath a begonia. Started on his way a great man to be, With nerve that was vital, but putrescent breath The devil got up from his warm little bed, That drove away patients-the rest you can guessg He washed his face and combed his headg His wail was hard luck, but you can soon see Now I'm asking a question I hadn't oughter, The moral of this little tale-D0n't have fl bad breath. Where in H--- did he get the water? EDGAR G, LENHoFF. ALBERT J. XVARBER.

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Lgillg-f,-if Tears snxmgsmnnngwm glib? odern bou Charley Davis Qhrlay his tribe decreasej, Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace. And in one far corner of his little room, He beheld a spirit writing in great gloom. What the spirit was writing, Charley could not sayg So he addressed the phantom in the following way, Oh, Spirit, of some dim light, Pray tell me of what you write. The spirit coughed thrice ere he turned his head, And his eyes gleamed bright with a ruddy rose red. In my book I am writing the name Of all those who are deserving of fameg Whatever the deed, be it great or small, I write their names here, one and all. Now Charley lay musing for a minute or two, Then up spake he and asked question number two. Oh, won't you tell me of those who have fame? Perchance I know some of them even by name. The spirit smiled his sardonic grin, And then made haste to answer him. You may not deem worthy some of the names That I have written on the roll of fame, But from a dead one's view I think it entirely fit, That in my book their names should be writ. First there are Yount and Epstein, Who have made famous the towns whence they hail. Next, Blondie Pow and Hoffa, Whose leadership none dead can assail, But the list is long, so tell me, before I go, Is there a certain one about whom you wish to know ? My name is Davis, hoarsely said Charley, And I come from Logansport town. Ben dhem Look, Oh! Spirit, I beg you, And see if you have it writ down. The spirit gasped twice, three times, and yet a fourth, And from his economy a forked glance come forth. The butt of a half-smoked Camel fell from his hand to the mat, And his foil-filled molars gleamed leaden as these words he spat, Horror of all horrors, tell me, 'tis not true! Would I, could I, believe such a thing of you? If it be true that you come from Logansport town, 'Tis enough, too much, I can not write you down ! Now Charley turned ashen and sober, And felt quite withered and sore, For the words of the spirit just spoken He could not choose but to hear. Tell me the specific reason, said Charley with an angry look. Just why my name is barred from the columns in your book ? Quoth the spirit as he reached for another cigarette, And his eyes burned dimly as a turned-down gas jet, Since you ask I must tell you, but only because you ask, And even then my job is a very delicate task. On the map of Logan-town are spread black dots in profusiong As to what they mean, in your mind, I know there's no confusion. Now these dots have ruined your chances Of getting your name in my book, Hut take my information kindly And do not give me such a black look. So saying the spirit left him, Left Charley alone in his black mood, And he cursed the black dots Q That had dammed his career and ruined his name, And kept him from being written In the illustrious ,column of fame. MORGENTHALER, '18