During the Saturday night revels in a frontier town, the scrawniest and skinniest beanpole-type citizen got shot in the leg. The only doctor in the town had done celebrating and gone to bed. A posse of citizens pounded on the doctor’s door, until he thrust his head out of a window.
“Whazzamazzer?” he called down.
“Comea-runnin’, Doc. Joe Jinks’s been shot.”
“Whereabouts shot?”
“In the laig.”
“Some shootin’!” And the doctor slammed the window shut.