[Ill in Bed]
Mr. Bunion: Oh. I feel terrible. I'm in awful pain. I think I'm going to be sick. Yes, dear, I'm sick now. Oh! What pain.
Mrs. Bunion: I think I'll send for a doctor. I'm worried, dear.
Doctor: Yes, your tongue is bad. You had better go to bed. You are very sick.
Mr. Bunion: The pain is so sever, doc. That I'm in misery. Ow do something--
Doctor: I'll have to call in another physician. He's in very bad shape. His temperature is rising rapidly
Mr. Bunion: The pain, oh is unbearable
Doctor #2: You had better make your will, Mister bunion. Make your will.
Mr. Bunion: Will? I've got nothing except-oh, no, if I go I'll leave nothing, no.
Mrs. Bunion: Oh! Oh! Is he going to die?
Doctor #2: It has come to the worst. You might as well know it unless his temperature goes down.
Doctor: Mrs. Bunion, your husband is fatly failing, yes, and you may---
Mr. Bunion: Oh! I'm dying with pain! I"m in agony! Oh! Let me die!
Mrs. Bunion: Are you feeling better, dear? I'm so glad you are resting.
Mr. Bunion: Oh, how I have suffered. The pain has eased up, oh! Thank goodness, I am resting easier. Oh, this is awful! Awful! Awful!
Mr. Bunion: Yes, that's what I want. I'm a little weak but otherwise fine.
Mrs. Bunion: You're looking splendid, yes, splendid.
Man: I see you are out again. How do you feel? As strong as ever, I suppose, eh?
Mr. Bunion: Ah! LIfe has a new charm for me, now. Yes, I'm feeling great! Tip top! and happy and thats no life.