Ef it's rendered right, it'll knock the hind sights off of any rheumatiz you ever see.

But it must be rendered in the dark of the moon.

Else a black dog's ile a'n't worth no more nor a white one's." And all this time Small was smelling of the uncorked bottle, taking a little on his finger and feeling of it, and thus feeling his way to the heart--drier than her herbs--of the old witch.

And then he went round the cabin gravely, lifting each separate bunch of dried yarbs from its nail, smelling of it, and then, by making an interrogation-point of his silent face, he managed to get a lecture from her on each article in her _materia medica_> with the most marvelous stories illustrative of their virtues.

When the Granny had got her fill of his silent flattery, he was ready to carry forward his main purpose.
There was something weird about this silent man's ability to turn the conversation as he chose to have it go.