But there was no little old woman. She had gone up into the
woods to get some more wild herbs, so they all thought they
would follow her,­Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John, and the little
boys. They had to climb up over high rocks, and in among
huckleberry-bushes and black berry-vines. But the little boys had
their india-rubber boots. At last they discovered the little old
woman. They knew her by her hat. It was steeple-crowned,
without any vane. They saw her digging with her trowel round a
sassafras bush. They told her their story,­how their mother had put
salt in her coffee, and how the chemist had made it worse instead
of better, and how their mother couldn't drink it, and wouldn't she
come and see what she could do? And she said she would, and
took up her little old apron, with pockets all round, all filled with
everlasting and pennyroyal, and went back to her house.

There she stopped, and stuffed her huge pockets with some of all
the kinds of herbs. She took some tansy and peppermint, and
caraway-seed and dill, spearmint and cloves, pennyroyal and
sweet marjoram, basil and rosemary, wild thyme and some of the
other time,­such as you have in clocks,­sappermint and oppermint,
catnip, valerian, and hop; indeed, there isn't a kind of herb you can
think of that the little old woman didn't have done up in her little
paper bags, that had all been dried in her little Dutch-oven. She
packed these all up, and then went back with the children, taking
her stick.

Meanwhile Mrs. Peterkin was getting quite impatient for her
coffee.