Two Little Savages Part 20

"That's Clayvers," she said, picking up a Galium. "Now fwhat wud ye think that wuz fur to cure?"

"I don't know. What is it?"

"Luk now, an' see how it's wrote in it plain as prent--yes, an' a sight plainer, fur I can read them an' I can't read a wurrud in a book. Now fwhat is that loike?" said she, holding up the double seed-pod.

"A brain and spinal column," said Yan.

"Och, choild, I hev better eyes than ye. Shure them's two kidneys, an'

that's fwhat Clayver tay will cure better'n all the docthers in the wurruld, an' ye hev to know just how. Ye see, kidney thruble is a koind o' fayver; it's hatin', so ye make yer Clayver tay in _cold_ wather; if ye make it o' warrum wather it just makes ye wuss an' acts loike didly pizen. Thayer's Sweatplant, or Boneset"

[_Eupatorium perfoliatum_], "that's the thing to sweat ye. Wanst Oi sane a feller jest dyin' o' dry hoide, wuz all hoidebound, an' the docthers throid an' throid an' couldn't help wan bit, till I guv his mother some Boneset leaves to make tay, an' he sweat buckets before he'd more'n smelt av it, an' the docthers thought they done it theirsilves!" and she cackled gleefully.

"Thayer's Goldthread fur cankermouth, an' Pipsissewa that cures fayver an' rheumatiz, too. It always grows where folks gits them disayses.

Luk at the flower just blotched red an' white loike fayver blotches--an' Spearmint, that saves ye if ya pizen yerself with Spaszum-root, an' shure it grows right next it in the woods!

"Thayer's Wormseed fur wurrums--see the 'ittle wurrum on the leaves"

_[Chenopodium]_ "an' that thayer is Pleurisy root, an' thayer!

well, thayer's the foinest hairb that iver G.o.d made to grow--that's Cure all. Some things cures wan thing and some cures another, but when ye don't know just what to take, ye make tay o' that root an' ye can't go wrong. It was an Injun larned me that. The poor miserable baste of a haythen hed some larnin', an' the minit he showed me I knowed it was so, fur ivery lafe wuz three in wan an' wan in three, an' had the sign o' the blessed cra.s.s in the middle as plain as that biler settin' on the stove."

Thus she chattered away, smoking her short pipe, expectorating on the top of the hot stove, but with true feminine delicacy she was careful each time to wipe her mouth on the back of her skinny arm.

"An' that's what's called Catnip; sure Oi moind well the day Oi furst larned about that. It warn't a Injun nor a docther nor a man at all, at all, that larned me that. It was that ould black Cat, an' may the saints stand bechuxt me an' his grane eyes! Bejabers, sometimes he scares me wid his knowin' ways, but I hev nothin' agin him except that he kills the wee burruds. He koind o' measled all wan winter an' lay around the stove. Whiniver the dooer was open he'd go an' luk out an'

then come back an' meow an' wheen an' lay down--an' so he kep' on, gittin' waker an' worser, till the snow wuz gone an' gra.s.s come up, an' still he'd go a-lukin' toward the ayst, especially nights. Then thayer come up a plant I had never sane, right thayer, an' he'd luk at it an' luk at it loike he wanted it but didn't dar to. Thar was some foine trays out thayer in thim days afore the ould baste cut thim down, an' wan av thim hed a big limb, so--an' another so--an' when the moon come up full at jest the right time the shaddy made the sign av the cra.s.s an' loighted on me dooer, an' after it was past it didn't make no cra.s.s. Well, bejabers, the full moon come up at last an' she made the sign of the shaddy cra.s.s, an' the ould Cat goes out an'

watches an' watches loike he wanted to an' didn't dar to, till that cra.s.s drapped fayer onto the hairbs, an' Tom he jumped then an' ate an' ate, an' from that day he was a well Cat; an' that's how Oi larned Catnip, an' it set me moind aisy, too, fur no Cat that's possesst 'll iver ate inunder the shaddy av the cra.s.s."

Yan was scribbling away, but had given up any attempt to make sketches or even notes beyond the names of the plants.

"Shure, choild, put them papers wid the names on the hairbs an' save _them_; that wuz fwhat Docther Carmartin done whin Oi was larnin'

him. Thayer, now, that's it," she added, as Yan took the hint and began slipping on each stalk a paper label with its name.

"That's a curious broom," said Yan, as his eye fell on the symbol of order and cleanliness, making strange reflections on itself.

"Yes; sure, that's a Baitche broom. Larry makes 'em."

"Larry?"

"Yes, me bhoy." [Larry was nearly sixty.] "He makes thim of Blue Baitche."

"How?" asked Yan, picking it up and examining it with intense interest.

"Whoi, shure, by whittlin'. Larry's a howly terror to whittle, an'

he gets a Blue Baitche sapling 'bout three inches thick an' starts a-whittlin" long slivers, but laves them on the sthick at wan end till thayer all round loike that."

"What, like a fire-lighter?"

"Yis, yis, that's it, only bigger, an Blue Baitche is terrible tough.

Then whin he has the sthick down to 'bout an inch thick, he ties all the slivers the wrong way wid a sthrand o' Litherwood, an' thrims down the han'el to suit, an' evens up the ind av the broom wid the axe an'

lets it dhry out, an' thayer yer is. Better broom was niver made, an'

there niver wus ony other in th' famb'ly till he married that Kitty Connor, the lowest av the low, an' it's meself was all agin her, wid her proide an' her dirthy sthuck-up ways' nothin' but boughten things wuz good enough fur her, _her_ that niver had a dacint male till she thrapped moi Larry. Yis, low be it sphoken, but 'thrapped' 's the wurrud," said the old woman, raising her voice to give emphasis that told a lurid tale.

At this moment the door opened and in came Biddy, and as she was the daughter of the unspeakable Kitty the conversation turned.

"An' sure it's glad to see ye I am, an' when are ye comin' down to reside at our place?" was her greeting to Yan, and while they talked Granny took advantage of the chance to take a long pull at a bottle that looked and smelled like Lung-balm.

"Moi, Biddy, yer airly," said Granny.

"Shure, an' now it was late whin I left home, an' the schulmaster says it's always so walking from ayst to west."

"An' shure it's glad Oi am to say ye, fur Yan will shtop an ate wid us. It ain't duck an' grane pase, but, thank G.o.d, we hev enough an' a hearty welcome wid ivery boite. Ye say, Biddy makes me dinner ivery foine day an' Oi get a boite an' a sup for meself other toimes, an'

slapes be me lone furby me Dog an' Cat an' the apples, which thayer ain't but a handful left, but fwhat thar is is yourn. Help yerself, choild, an' ate hearty," and she turned down the gray-looking bedclothes to show the last half-dozen of the same rosy apples.

"Aint you afraid to sleep here alone nights, Granny?"

"Shure fwhat hev Oi to fayre? Thayer niver wuz robbers come but wanst, an' shure I got theyer last cint aff av them. They come one night an'

broke in, an' settin' up, Oi sez, 'Now fwhat _are_ yez lukin'

fur?'

"'Money,' sez they, fur thayer was talk all round thin that Oi had sold me cow fur $25.

"'Sure, thin, Oi'll get up an' help ye,' sez Oi, fur divil a cint hev Oi been able to set me eyes on sense apple harvest.'"

'"We want $25, or we'll kill ye.'

"'Faith, an' if it wuz twenty-five cints Oi couldn't help it,' sez Oi, 'an' it's ready to die Oi am,' sez Oi, 'fur Oi was confessed last wake an' Oi'm a-sayin' me prayers _this_ minit.'

"Sez the littlest wan, an' he wa'n't so little, nigh as br'ad as that dooer, 'Hevn't ye sold yer cow?'

"'Ye'll foind her in the barrun,' sez Oi, 'though Oi hate to hev yez disturb her slapin'. It makes her drame an' that's bad fur the milk.'

"An' next thing them two robbers wuz laffin' at each other fur fools.

Then the little wan sez:

"'Now, Granny, we'll lave ye in pace, if ye'll niver say a wurrud o'

this'--but the other wan seemed kind o' sulky.

"'Sorra a wurrud,' sez Oi, 'an' good frinds we'll be yit,' an' they wuz makin' fur the dooer to clayer out whin I sez:

"'Howld on! Me friends can't lave me house an' naither boite nor sup; turn yer backs an' ye plaze, till Oi get on me skirt.' An' whin Oi wuz up an' dacint an' tould them they could luk, Oi sez, 'It's the foinest Lung balm in the land ye shall taste,' an' the littlest feller he starts a-coughin', oh, a turrible cough--it fair scairt me, like a hoopin' croup--an' the other seemed just mad, and the littlest wan made fun av him. Oi seen the mean wan wuz left-handed or let on he wuz, but when he reached out fur the bottle he had on'y three fingers on his right, an' they both av them had the biggest, blackest, awfulest lukin' bairds--I'd know them two bairds agin ony place--an'

the littlest had a rag round his head, said he had a toothache, but shure yer teeth don't ache in the roots o' yer haiyer. Then when they wuz goin' the littlest wan put a dollar in me hand an' sez, 'It's all we got bechuxst us, Granny.' 'G.o.dbless ye,' sez Oi, 'an' Oi take it kindly. It's the first Oi seen sense apple harvest, an' it's a friend ye hev in me whin ye nade wan,'" and the old woman chuckled over her victory.

"Granny, do you know what the Indians use for dyeing colours?" asked Yan, harking back to his main purpose.

"Shure, Yahn, they jest goes to the store an' gets boughten dyes in packages like we do."

"But before there were boughten dyes, didn't they use things in the woods?"

"That they did, for shure. Iverything man iver naded the good Lord made grow fur him in the woods."

"Yes, but what plants?"