was a queer little garden and puzzling to a stranger, the few
flowers being put at a disadvantage by so much greenery; but the
discovery was soon made that Mrs. Todd was an ardent lover of
herbs, both wild and tame, and the sea-breezes blew into the low
end-window of the house laden with not only sweet-brier and sweet-
mary, but balm and sage and borage and mint, wormwood and
southernwood. If Mrs. Todd had occasion to step into the far
corner of her herb plot, she trod heavily upon thyme, and made its
fragrant presence known with all the rest. Being a very large
person, her full skirts brushed and bent almost every slender stalk
that her feet missed. You could always tell when she was stepping
about there, even when you were half awake in the morning, and
learned to know, in the course of a few weeks' experience, in
exactly which corner of the garden she might be.

At one side of this herb plot were other growths of a rustic
pharmacopoeia, great treasures and rarities among the commoner
herbs. There were some strange and pungent odors that roused a dim
sense and remembrance of something in the forgotten past. Some of
these might once have belonged to sacred and mystic rites, and have
had some occult knowledge handed with them down the centuries; but
now they pertained only to humble compounds brewed at intervals
with molasses or vinegar or spirits in a small caldron on Mrs.
Todd's kitchen stove. They were dispensed to suffering neighbors,
who usually came at night as if by stealth, bringing their own
ancient-looking vials to be filled. One nostrum was called the
Indian remedy, and its price was but fifteen cents; the whispered
directions could be heard as customers passed the windows. With
most remedies the purchaser was allowed to depart unadmonished from
the kitchen, Mrs. Todd being a wise saver of steps; but with