mplings, he believed it would do him more good than anything, and he
begged the 'Coon to go and fish it out, or to catch another one, and try
it on him, and then if he did die he would at least have fewer regrets.

But the Crow and the 'Coon said they must do as Mr. Owl ordered, unless
Mr. 'Possum wanted to change doctors, which was not a good plan until
the case became hopeless, and that would probably not be before some
time in the night. Mr. 'Coon said, though, there was no reason why that
nice chicken should be wasted, and as it would still be fresh, he would
rig up a hook and line and see if he couldn't save it. So he got out his
fishing things and made a grab hook and left Mr. Crow to sit by Mr.
'Possum until he came back. He could follow Mr. 'Possum's track to the
place, and in a little while he had the fine, fat chicken, and came home
with it and showed it to the patient, who had a sinking spell when he
looked at it, and turned his face to the wall and said he seemed to have
lived in vain.

Mr. Crow, who always did the cooking, said he'd better put the chicken
on right away, under the circumstances, and then he remembered a bottle
of medicine he had once seen sitting on Mr. Man's window-sill outside,
and he said while the chicken was cooking he'd just step over and get
it, as it might do the patient good, and it didn't seem as if anything
now could do him any harm.

So the Crow dressed the nice chicken and put it in the pot with the
dumplings, and while Mr. 'Coon dosed Mr. 'Possum with the hot herb tea
Mr. Crow slipped over to Mr. Man's house and watched a good chance when
the folks were at dinner, and got the bottle and came back with it and
found Mr. 'Possum taking a nap and the 'Coon setting the table; for the
dinner was about done and there was a delicious smell of dumplings and
chicken, which made Mr. 'Possum begin talking in his sleep about
starving to death in the midst of plenty. Then he woke up and seemed to
suffer a good deal, and the Crow gave him a dose of Mr. Man's medicine,
and said that if Mr. 'Possum was still with them next morning they'd
send for another doctor.

Mr. 'Possum took the medicine and choked on it, and when he could speak
said he wouldn't be with them. He could tell by his feelings, he said,
that he would never get through this day of torture, and he wanted to
say some last words. Then he said that he wanted the 'Coon to have his
Sunday suit, which was getting a little tight for