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148
The Country of the Pointed Firs
·
Sarah Orne Jewett
5
The
village
doctor
and
this
learned
herbalist
were
upon
the
best
of
terms.
The
good
man
may
have
counted
upon
the
unfavorable
effect
of
certain
potions
which
he
should
find
his
opportunity
in
counteracting;
at
any
rate,
he
now
and
then
stopped
and
exchanged
greetings
with
Mrs.
Todd
over
the
picket
fence.
The
conversation
became
at
once
professional
after
the
briefest
preliminaries,
and
he
would
stand
twirling
a
sweet-scented
sprig
in
his
fingers,
and
make
suggestive
jokes,
perhaps
about
her
faith
in
a
too
persistent
course
of
thoroughwort
elixir,
in
which
my
landlady
professed
such
firm
belief
as
sometimes
to
endanger
the
life
and
usefulness
of
worthy
neighbors.
To
arrive
at
this
quietest
of
seaside
villages
late
in
June,
when
the
busy
herb-gathering
season
was
just
beginning,
was
also
to
arrive
in
the
early
prime
of
Mrs.
Todd's
activity
in
the
brewing
of
old-fashioned
spruce
beer.
This
cooling
and
refreshing
drink
had
been
brought
to
wonderful
perfection
through
a
long
series
of
experiments;
it
had
won
immense
local
fame,
and
the
supplies
for
its
manufacture
were
always
giving
out
and
having
to
be
replenished.
For
various
reasons,
the
seclusion
and
uninterrupted
days
which
had
been
looked
forward
to
proved
to
be
very
rare
in
this
otherwise
delightful
corner
of
the
world.
My
hostess
and
I
had
made
our
shrewd
business
agreement
on
the
basis
of
a
simple
cold
luncheon
at
noon,
and
liberal
restitution
in
the
matter
of
hot
suppers,
to
provide
for
which
the
lodger
might
sometimes
be
seen
hurrying
down
the
road,
late
in
the
day,
with
cunner
line
in
hand.
It
was
soon
found
that
this
arrangement
made
large
allowance
for
Mrs.
Todd's
slow
herb-gathering
progresses
through
woods
and
pastures.
The
spruce-beer
customers
were
pretty
steady
in
hot
weather,
and
there
were
many
demands
for
different
soothing
syrups
and
elixirs
with
which
the
unwise
curiosity
of
my
early
residence
had
made
me
acquainted.
Knowing
Mrs.
Todd
to
be
a
widow,
who
had
little
beside
this
slender
business
and
the
income
from
one
hungry
lodger
to
maintain
her,
one's
energies
and
even
interest
were
quickly
bestowed,
until
it
became
a
matter
of
course
that
she
should
go
afield
every
pleasant
day,
and
that
the
lodger
should
answer
all
peremptory
knocks
at
the
side
door.
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