that we hear on every day of our lives,
that we have found out half the virtues of
the plants; no, nor a tenth part of 'em.
It's my belief that Nebuchadnezzar, when
he ate grass, took a physic as was good for
him, and that there is a great deal more
virtue in grass than the world knows on,
with all its wisdom. For of all 'herbs,' is
not grass called in Scripture the herb of the
field, as if it was, which I sometimes think
it is, the best as well as the commonest of
all the herbs? I've many a time wished,
when I've seen a dog a eatin' on it, as I
could ax him what he was a doin' it for.
Of course I can ax the dog the question,
but by wuss luck I can't get his answer.
The only fault in old Culpeper as ever I
could find is, as he says nothing about
grass. If I was a scholard and could write
as well as him, or only half as well for the
matter of that, I'd write about grass
myself. I knows, because I've tried, that
what the people calls mountain-grass is a
certain cure for the rheumatics, that is to
say, the tea or broth made of it by boiling.
And it's my opinion that there isn't any
kind of grass as isn't good for man as well
as beast, only, as I said before, men are, for
the most part, such fools, and has to be
taught what the beasts knows without
teaching."

"Have you any particular favourite of
your own among the simples you gather?"
I inquired; "any one more valuable than
the rest in your opinion, and of a greater
benefit to mankind?"

"Well, I dunno! I can't tell. So many
on 'em 'deserve honourable mention,' as
they used to say of things sent to the
Great Exhibition, that I can't fix upon any
one in particular. Now, there's poppy, for
instance. What a blessing poppy is, let
alone its juice in the shape of lodnum and
opium, which brings the blessed sleep to
the weary eyes and brains of many a sick
man and woman as couldn't get a wink
without it; but as a relief to swelling and
inflammation of every kind. There's the
common field poppy, now," and Jack (we
were walking along the road as we
discoursed) stooped to gather one as he spoke,
"which some folks calls the corn-rose, is
good for more things than causing sleep.
Hear what old Culpeper says about it. I
have it all by heart. 'The wild poppy, or
corn-rose, is good to prevent the falling
sickness. The syrup made with the
flowers is with good effect given to those
that have the pleurisy; and the dried
flowers also, either boiled in water, or
made into powder, and drank, either in the
distilled water of them, or some other
drink, worketh the like effect. The
distilled water of the flowers is held to be of
much good use against surfeits, being
drank evening and morning. It is more
cooling than any of the other poppies,
and effectual in hot agues, frenzies, and
other inflammations, inward or outward.'
Ah!" added Jack, in corroboration of what
his great master had said, "poppy's quite
as good in its way as the corn that it
grows among; though the farmers doesn't
know it. Then, again, there's chickweed
and grunsel, that the London people take
such mighty cart-loads of every week to
feed their singing birds, but which are
quite as good for men and women as for
goldfinches and canaries."

I suppose that I looked doubtful on this
point, for Jack went on with renewed
earnestness: "I tell you chickweed and
grunsel is good for many kinds of
sickness. I knows it, and Culpeper says it;
and surely he knowed. 'Chickweed,' he
says, 'is a fine, soft, pleasing herb, born
under the dominion of the moon.'"

"Why of the moon?" I inquired.

"Every plant as grows," said Jack,
with as much gravity as a judge when
laying down the law, "grows under the
influence of the sun, or the moon, or its
own particular planet. That's positive!
Many grows under Venus, many under
Mars, and many under Saturn. What
plant was I talking on? Chickweed. Yes!
chickweed belongs to the moon. And, as
you might, perhaps, not believe me, hear
what Culpeper says. 'This herb bruised,
or the juice applied with cloths or sponges
dipped therein, to the region of the liver,
doth wonderfully temperate the inflammation
thereof. It is effectual for all swellings
and imposthumes; for all redness in
the face, wheals, pushes, itch, and scabs.
The juice, either simply used, and boiled
with hog's lard, and applied to the part,
helpeth cramps, convulsions, and palsy.
The juice or distilled water is of much
good use for all heats and redness in the
eyes, to drop some thereof into them. It
is good, also, in virulent sores and ulcers of
the leg and any other parts of the body. The
leaves boiled with marsh mallows and made
into a poultice with fenugreek and linseed
helpeth the sinews when they are shrunk
by cramp or otherwise.' That's what
Culpeper says of chickweed, which you
may see is not sent by a kind Providence
for the birds only. And 'grunsel'