children obedient; others which
caused an old man's gray hair to turn black and his teeth to grow
again--if he only took it long enough; and he had, besides, remedies
which would cure chickens that had the pip, horses that kicked, old
women with the rheumatism, dogs that howled at the moon, boys who
played truant, and cats that stole milk.

Now, to our enlightened minds it is very evident that this Hans was
nothing more than an old simpleton; but it is very doubtful if he
thought so himself, and it is certain that his neighbors did not. They
resorted to him on all occasions when things went wrong with them,
whether it was the butter that would not come in their churns, or
their little babies who had fevers.

Therefore, you may be sure that Dame Martha sent for Hans as soon as
she was taken ill, and for about a year or so she had been using his
herbs, making plasters of his roots, putting little shells that he
brought under her pillow, and powwowing three times a day over bunches
of dried weeds ornamented with feathers from the tails of yellow hens
that had died of old age. But all that Hans, could do for her was of
no manner of use. In vain he went out at night with his lantern, and
gathered leaves and roots in the most particular way. Whether the moon
was full or on the wane; whether the tail of the Great Dipper was
above the steeple of the old church, or whether it had not yet risen
as high as the roof; whether the bats flew to the east or the west
when he first saw them; or whether the Jack o'lanterns sailed near the
ground (when they were carried by a little Jack), or whether they were
high (when a tall Jack bore them), it made no difference. His herbs
were powerless, and Dame Martha did not get well.

About half a mile from the widow's cottage there lived a young girl
named Patsey Moore. She was the daughter of the village Squire, and a
prettier girl or a better one than Patsey is not often met with. When
she heard of Dame Martha's illness she sometimes used to stop at the
cottage on her way to school, and leave with her some nice little
thing that a sick person might like to eat.

One day in spring, when the fields were full of blossoms and the air
full of sunshine and delicious odors, Patsey stopped on her way from
school to gather a bunch of wild-flowers.

They grew so thickly and there were so many different kinds, that she
soon had a bouquet that was quite fit for a parlor. On her way home
she stopped at