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So the clouds began to clear. This innocent fellow liked nothing better than a cup of tea and a chat with gentle and cheery old Mrs. Julaper, and a talk in which the shadowy old times which he remembered as a child emerged into sunlight and lived again.

When he began to feel better, drawn into the kindly old times by the tinkle of that harmless old woman’s tongue, he said:

“I sometimes think I would not so much mind — I should not care so much — if my spirits were not so depressed, and I so agitated. I suppose I am not quite well.”

“Well, tell me what’s wrong, child, and it’s odd but I have a recipe on the shelf there that will do you good.”

“It is not a matter of that sort I mean; though I’d rather have you than any doctor, if I needed medicine, to prescribe for me.”

Mrs. Julaper smiled in spite of herself, well pleased; for her skill in pharmacy was a point on which the good lady prided herself, and was open to flattery, which, without intending it, the simple fellow administered.

“No, I’m well enough; I can’t say I ever was better. It is only, ma’am, that I have such dreams — you have no idea.”