ed me about not a hour
ago. Me a-writhing in tormint with nothing less'n a cancer--insulted
me!" As the Squire projected his remark toward Mother Mayberry he bent
double and peered expectantly up into her sympathetic face.

"Why, what did he do, Squire?" demanded Mother, with a glance at Miss
Wingate, who still stood at the biscuit block cutting out her dough.
She regarded the old man with alarmed wonder.

"Told me to drink two cups of hot water and lie down a hour--me in
tormint!" The Squire fairly spit his complaint into the air.

"Dearie me, Tom had oughter known better than that about one of your
spells," said Mother. "Why, I've been a-curing them for years for you
myself with nothing more'n a little drop of spirits, red pepper and
mint. He had oughter told you to take that instead of hot water. I'm
sorry--"

"Oughter told me to take spirits--told me to TAKE spirits! Don't you
know, Mis' Mayberry, a man with a sanctified wife can't TAKE no
spirits; they must be GAVE to him by somebody not a member of the
family. Me a-suffering tormints--two cups of hot water--tormints,
tormints!"

The old man's voice rose to a perfect wail, but came down a note or two
as Mother hastily reached in the press and drew out a tall, old
demijohn and poured a liberal dose of the desired medicine into a
glass. She added a dash of red pepper and a few drops of peppermint.
This treatment of the Squire's dram in Mother's estimation turned a
sinful beverage into a useful medicine and served to soothe her
conscience while it disturbed the Squire's appreciation of her
treatment not at all. He swallowed the fiery dose without as much as
the blink of an eyelid and on the instant subsided into comfortable
complacency.

"Please forgive Tom for not having more gumption, Squire, and next time
you're took come right over to me same as usual. Course I know all the
neighbors feel as how Tom is young and have just hung out his shingle
here, and I ain't expectin' of 'em to have no confidence in him. I
think it my duty to just go on with my usual doctoring of my friends. I
hope you won't hold this mistake against Tom."

"Well," said the Squire in a mollified tone of voice, "I won't say no
more, but you must tell him to stop fooling with these here Providence
people. Stopped Ezra Pike's wife feeding her baby on pot-liquor and
give it biled milk watered with lime juice. It'll die--it'll die!"

"Oh no, Squire, it's a-getting well--jest as peart as can