“Would it be any discredit if I did? I think not. I merely meant that most men would not see or hear the blue bell at all----and as for the poem and prayer! If the woods make a man with such fibre in his soul, I must learn them if they half kill me.” “You harp on death. Try to forget the word.” “I have faced it for months, and seen it do its grinding worst very recently to the only thing on earth I loved or that loved me. I have no desire to forget! Tell me more about the plants.” “Forgive me,” said the Harvester gently. “Just now I am collecting catnip for the infant and nervous people, hoarhound for colds and dyspepsia, boneset heads and flowers for the same purpose. There is a heavy head of white bloom with wonderful lacy leaves, called yarrow. I take the entire plant for a tonic and blessed thistle leaves and flowers for the same purpose.” “That must be what I need,” interrupted the Girl. “Half the time I believe I have a little fever, but I couldn't have dyspepsia, because I never want anything to eat; perhaps the tonic would make me hungry.” “Promise me you will tell that to the doctor who comes to see your aunt, and take what he gives you.” “No doctor comes to see my aunt. She is merely playing lazy to get out of work. There is nothing the matter with her.” “Then why----” “My uncle says that. Really, she could not stand and walk across a room alone. She is simply worn out.” “I shall report the case,” said the Harvester instantly. “You better not!” said the Girl. “There must be a mistake about you knowing my uncle. Tell me more of the flowers.” The Harvester drew a deep breath and continued: “These I just have named I take at bloom time; next month come purple thorn apple, jimson weed, and hemlock.” “Isn't that poison?” “Half the stuff I handle is.” “Aren't you afraid?” “Terribly,” said the Harvester in laughing voice. “But I want the money, the sick folk need the medicine, and I drink water.” The Girl laughed also. “Look here!” said the Harvester. “Why not tell me just as closely as you can about your aunt, and let me fix something for her; or if you are afraid to trust me, let me have my friend of whom I spoke yesterday.” “Perhaps I am not so much afraid as I was,” said the Girl. “I wish I could! How could I explain where I got it and I wonder if she would take it.” “Give it to her without any explanation,” said the Harvester. “Tell her it will make her stronger and she must use it. Tell me exactly how she is, and I will fix up some harmless remedies that may help, and can do no harm.” “She simply has been neglected, overworked, and abused until she has lain down, turned her face to the wall, and given up hope. I think it is too late. I think the end will come soon. But I wish you would try. I'll gladly pay----” “Don't!” said the Harvester. “Not for things that grow in the woods and that I prepare. Don't think of money every minute.”