"Now, let me see your throat," said the doctor. The patient opened her mouth to such an amazing extent that the doctor said, "No, I will stand on the outside!" which made Mary ashamed of him, but the old couple laughed heartily. They had known this doctor a good many years. "What have you been doing to stop the bleeding?" he asked. "I've been a-tryin' charms and conjurin', mostly." Mary saw that there was no smile on her face or on any other face in the room. She spoke in a sincere and matter-of-fact way. "Old Uncle Peter, down here a piece, has cured many a case of nose-bleed but he hain't 'peared to help mine." "How does he go about it?" asked Mary. "W'y, don't you know nothin' 'bout conjurin'?" "Nothing at all." "I thought you bein' a doctor's wife would know things like that." "I don't believe my husband practises conjuring much." "Well, Uncle Peter takes the Bible, and opens it, and says some words over it, and pretty soon the bleedin' stops." "Which stops it, the Bible or the words?" "W'y--both I reckon, but the words does the most of it. They're the charm and nobody knows 'em but him." "Where did he learn them?" "His father was a conjurer and when he died he tol' the words to Uncle Peter an' give the power to him." "Did he come up here to conjure you?" asked the doctor. "No, he says he can do it just as well at home." "He can. But I think we can stop the bleeding without bothering Uncle Peter any more. I'd like a pair of scissors," he said, meaning to cut some papers for powders. "They won't do no good. I've tried 'em." "What do you think I want with them?" "I 'lowed you wanted to put 'em under the piller. That'll cure nose-bleed lots of times. Maybe you don't believe it, but it's so." "Can Uncle Peter cure other things?" asked Mary. "He can _that_. My nephew had the chills last year and shook and shook. At last he went to Uncle Peter an' he cured _him_." "He shot 'em," said Mr. Haig. "Yes, he told him to take sixteen shot every mornin' for sixteen days and by the time he got through he didn't shake a bit." "By jings! he was so heavy he couldn't," said Mr. Haig, and in the laugh that followed the doctor and his wife rose to go. A neighboring woman with a baby in her arms had come in and seated herself near the door. As he passed out the doctor stopped to inquire, "How's that sore breast? You haven't been back again." "It's about well. William found a mole at last and when I put the skin of it on my breast it cured it. I knowed it would, but when we wanted a mole there wasn't none to be found, so I had to go and see _you_ about it." "I thought it would soon be well. Good for the mole-skin," laughed the doctor, as they took their leave.