Part 4 (1/2)

DR. CONY--And you will admit that the ceiling's just the same as it ever was?

COTTONTAIL--It looks the same from here. I haven't called any workmen in yet to examine it.

DR. CONY--Take my advice and don't. Just let's keep the matter between ourselves and forget it. I'm afraid you've been working too hard. Drop your business. Do a little light reading, and after a bit maybe I'd like to have you go to a show. Something with songs and bunny-hugging and jokes and chorus girls. None of this birth control stuff. I don't see how any self-respecting rabbit could go to a play like the one I saw last night. (_He goes to his instrument case and produces a stethoscope_.)

DR. CONY--Have you had your heart examined lately?

COTTONTAIL (_visibly nervous_)--No.

DR. CONY--Any shortness of breath or palpitation?

COTTONTAIL--I don't think so.

DR. CONY--If that's a vest you have on, take it off. There, now. (_He stands in front of Cottontail with his stethoscope poised in the air.

Cottontail is trembling. Dr. Cony allows the hand holding the stethoscope to drop to his side and remarks provocatively_), I'll bet you Maranville doesn't hit .250 this season.

COTTONTAIL (_amazed_)--Really, sir, I never bet. No, never. I don't know what you are talking about, anyway.

DR. CONY--That's all right, that's all right. Don't agitate yourself.

Just a little professional trick. I wanted to calm you down. Now (_he makes a hurried examination_), Mr. Cottontail, I don't want you to run.

I don't want you to climb stairs. Avoid excitement and don't b.u.t.ter your parsnips. Fine words are just as good, no matter what anybody may tell you, and they don't create fatty tissue. Of course, you've got to have some exercise. You might play a little golf. Say, about three holes a day.

COTTONTAIL (_sadly_)--Three holes?

DR. CONY--Yes, that will be enough.

COTTONTAIL (_musing_)--It's a little tough, doctor. I can still remember the day I won my ”H” at dear old Ha.s.senpfeffer in the 'cross-country run. I had the lungs and the legs then. Even now I can feel the wind on my face as I came across the meadow and up that last, long hill. They were cheering for me to come on. I can tell you I just leaped along. It was nothing at all for me. If I'd sprinted just a bit sooner I could have been first in a hop. Anyhow, I was second. There was n.o.body ahead of me but the Tortoise. (_Cheerlessly_) Three holes of golf a day!

DR. CONY--Come, come, sir, be a rabbit. There's no cheating nature, you know. You had your fun, and now you must pay.

COTTONTAIL--What's the matter with me?

DR. CONY--Plain, old-fas.h.i.+oned gout.

COTTONTAIL--What does that come from?

DR. CONY (_with evident relish_)--From too much ale or porter or claret or burgundy or champagne or sherry or Rhine Wine or Clover Clubs or Piper Heidsieck or brandy or Bronxes or absinthe or stingers, but the worst of all and the best of all is port wine.

COTTONTAIL (_horrified_)--You mean it comes from drinking?

Dr. Cony--In all my twenty-five years of professional practice I have never known a case of gout without antecedent alcoholism.

COTTONTAIL (_much relieved_)--Well, then, it can't be gout. I've never taken a drink in my life.

Dr. Cony--In all my twenty-five years of professional experience I've never made an incorrect diagnosis. It is gout.

COTTONTAIL--But I'm president of the Bone Dry Prohibition Union.

Dr. Cony--The more shame to you, sir.