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“How long ago did you hurt yourself?”

“About three hours,” says Boston, “what with the walk here.”

“You walked for three hours?” says the doctor, taking in Boston’s pallor, his jerky speech.

“No no,” says Boston, “I ate something afterwards, and then there was the prayer meeting to get to.”

“So nothing too serious,” smiles the doctor.  “What is the nature of your injury?”

“I cut off my testicles with a pair of scissors so I wouldn’t be tempted so much by prostitutes,” says Boston, opening his pants.

Later he hunts down and kills John Wilkes Booth (seriously, look it up).