herrin' had destroyed my sense of taste; anything in a
liquid state was alike delectable to me, and while I drank, I had a sense
of having become somehow mysteriously connected with the book of
revelations. "We used to think," Grandma proceeded mildly to elucidate,
"that it had ought to be took externally, but husband, he was painin'
around one time, and nothin' didn't seem to do him no good, and so we
ventured some of it inside of him, and he didn't complain no more for a
great while afterwards." I appreciated the hidden meaning of these words
when I saw how sparingly Grandpa Keeler partook of the golden seal. "So
then we tried some of it ourselves, and ra'ly begun to like it, so we've
got into the habit of drinkin' it along through the winter, it's so
quietin', and may not be no special need of it, so far as we can see, but
then, it's allus well enough to be on the safe side, for there's no
knowin'," concluded Grandma, solemnly, "what disease may be a growin' up
inside of you."

"My brother invented on't," said Grandpa Keeler, looking up at me from
under his shaggy eyebrows with questionable pride. He went on more
glowingly, however; "There's a picter of my brother on every bottle,
teacher." (Madeline immediately ran from her chair, went into an
adjoining room, and brought out a bottle to show me.) "Ye see, he used to
wear them air long ringlets, though he was a powerful man, John was; but
his hair curled as pretty as a girl's. Oh, he was a great dandy, John
was; a great dandy." Grandpa Keeler straightened himself up and his eyes
brightened perceptibly.

"Never wore nothin' but the finest broadcloth; why, there's a pair of
black broadcloth pants o' his'n that you'll see, come Sunday, teacher!"

"Wall, thar', now, pa," said Grandma Keeler, reprovingly; "I wouldn't
tell everything."

"Le' me see," continued Grandpa; "I had eight brothers, teacher, yis,
yis, there was nine boys in all," nodding his head emphatically, and
proceeding to count on his fingers.

Grandma Keeler laid her knife and fork aside, as though she felt that the
occasion was an important one, and that she had a grave duty to perform
in regard to it.

"Thar' was Philemon, he comes first, that makes one, don't it? and there
was Doddridge--

"Sure he comes next, pa?" interposed Grandma; "for now you're namin' of
em, you might as well git 'em right."

"Yis, yis, ma," replied the old man, hastily. "Then there was Winfield
and John, they're all dead