_Mrs. B._ Oh, they gin’ her a ’bundance o’ truck—I don’t know what all; and none of ’em holp her at all. But at last she got over it, somehow or other. If they’d have just gin’ her a sweat o’ bitter yerbs, jist as the spell was comin’ on, it would have cured her right away. _Mrs. R._ Well, I reckon sheep-saffron the onliest thing in nater for the ager. _Mrs. B._ I’ve always hearn it was wonderful in hives, and measly ailments. _Mrs. R._ Well, it’s jist as good for an ager—it’s a powerful sweat. Mrs. Clarkson told me, that her cousin Betsey’s aunt Sally’s Nancy was cured sound and well by it, of a hard shakin’ ager. _Mrs. S._ Why you don’t tell me so! _Mrs. R._ Oh bess your heart, honey, it’s every word true; for she told me so with her own mouth. _Mrs. S._ A hard, hard shakin’ ager! _Mrs. R._ Oh yes, honey, it’s the truth. _Mrs. S._ Well, I’m told that if you’ll wrap the inside skin of an egg round your little finger, and go three days reg’lar to a young persimmon, and tie a string round it, and every day, tie three knots in it, and then not go agin for three days, that the ager will leave you. _Mrs. B._ I’ve often hearn o’ that, but I don’t know about it. Some people don’t believe in it. _Mrs. S._ Well, Davy Cooper’s wife told me she didn’t believe in it; but she tried it, and it cured her sound and well. _Mrs. R._ I’ve hearn of many folks bein’ cured in that way. And what did they do for Lucy’s cough, Mis’ Barney? _Mrs. B._ Oh dear me, they gin’ her a powerful chance o’ truck. I reckon, first and last, she took at least a pint o’ lodimy. _Mrs. S. and Mrs. R._ The law! _Mrs. S._ Why that ought to have killed her, if nothing else. If they’d jist gin’ her a little cumfry and _a_lecampane, stewed in honey, or sugar, or molasses, with a little lump o’ mutton suet or butter in it: it would have cured her in two days sound and well. _Mrs. B._ I’ve always counted cumfry and alecampane the lead of all yerbs for colds. _Mrs. S._ Horehound and sugar’s ’mazin’ good. _Mrs. B._ Mighty good—mighty good. _Mrs. R._ Powerful good. I take mightily to a sweat of sage tea, in desperate bad colds.