"Wormwood," said the old lady, adjusting her spectacles in
extreme deliberation, and then examining the little black and blue
spot, which was spreading rapidly, "is the very best thing; and I've
got some to home--you run right over," she said, turning round on
David, quickly, "an' get it; it's a-hang-in' by the chimbley."

"Let me; let me!" cried Joel, springing out of the old chair, so
suddenly that grandma's spectacles nearly dropped off in fright;
"oh! I want to do it for Phronsie!"

"Yes, let Joel, please," put in Polly; "he'll find it, grandma." So
Joel departed with great speed; and presently returned, with a
bunch of dry herbs, which dangled comfortingly by his side, as he
came in.

"Now I'll fix it," said Mrs. Bascom, getting up and taking off her
shawl; "there's a few raisins for you, Polly; I don't want 'em, and
they'll make your cake go better," and she placed a little parcel on
the table as she spoke. "Yes, I'll put it to steep; an' after it's put on
real strong, and tied up in an old cloth, Phronsie won't know as
she's got any toes!" and grandma broke up a generous supply of the
herb, and put it into an old tin cup, which she covered up with a
saucer, and placed on the stove.

"Oh!" said Polly; "I can't thank you! for the raisins and all--you're
so good!"

"They're awful hard," said Joel, investigating into the bundle with
Davie, which, however, luckily the old lady didn't hear.