s a great deal
of money, but you shall have it if only you will cure my daughter."

Simon Agricola drew a little vial from his bosom. From it he poured
just six drops of yellow liquor upon the girl's tongue. Then--lo and
behold!--up she sat in bed as well and strong as ever, and asked for a
boiled chicken and a dumpling, by way of something to eat.

"Bless you! Bless you!" said the rich man.

"Yes, yes; blessings are very good, but I would like to have my two
thousand golden angels," said Simon Agricola.

"Two thousand golden angels! I said nothing about two thousand golden
angels," said the rich man; "two thousand fiddlesticks!" said he. "Pooh!
Pooh! You must have been dreaming! See, here are two hundred silver
pennies, and that is enough and more than enough for six drops of
medicine."

"I want my two thousand golden angels," said Simon Agricola.

"You will get nothing but two hundred pennies," said the rich man.

"I won't touch one of them," said Simon Agricola, and off he marched in
a huff.

But Babo had kept his eyes open. Simon Agricola had laid down the vial
upon the table, and while they were saying this and that back and forth,
thinking of nothing else, Babo quietly slipped it into his own pocket,
without any one but himself being the wiser.

Down the stairs stumped the doctor with Babo at his heels. There stood
the cook waiting for them.

"Look," said he, "my wife is sick in there; won't you cure her, too?"

"Pooh!" said Simon Agricola; and out he went, banging the door behind
him.

"Look, friend," said Babo to the cook, "here I have some of the same
medicine. Give me the two hundred pennies that the master would not
take, and I'll cure her for you as sound as a bottle."

"Very well," said the cook, and he counted out the two hundred pennies,
and Babo slipped them into his pocket. He bade the woman open her mouth,
and when she had done so he poured all the stuff down her throat at
once.

"Ugh!" said she, and therewith rolled up her eyes, and lay as stiff and
dumb as a herring in a box.

When the cook saw what Babo had done, he snatched up the rolling-pin and
made at him to pound his head to a jelly. But Babo did not wait for his
coming; he jumped out of the window, and away he scampered with the cook
at his heels.

Well, the upshot of the business was that Simon Agricola had to go back
and bring life to the woman again, or the cook would thump him and Babo
both with the rolling-pin. And, w