Therefore, you may be sure that Dame Martha sent for Hans as soon as she was taken ill, and for about a year or so she had been using his herbs, making plasters of his roots, putting little shells that he brought under her pillow, and powwowing three times a day over bunches of dried weeds ornamented with feathers from the tails of yellow hens that had died of old age.  But all that Hans, could do for her was of no manner of use.  In vain he went out at night with his lantern, and gathered leaves and roots in the most particular way.  Whether the moon was full or on the wane; whether the tail of the Great Dipper was above the steeple of the old church, or whether it had not yet risen as high as the roof; whether the bats flew to the east or the west when he first saw them; or whether the Jack o’lanterns sailed near the ground (when they were carried by a little Jack), or whether they were high (when a tall Jack bore them), it made no difference.  His herbs were powerless, and Dame Martha did not get well.

About half a mile from the widow’s cottage there lived a young girl named Patsey Moore.  She was the daughter of the village Squire, and a prettier girl or a better one than Patsey is not often met with.  When she heard of Dame Martha’s illness she sometimes used to stop at the cottage on her way to school, and leave with her some nice little thing that a sick person might like to eat.

One day in spring, when the fields were full of blossoms and the air full of sunshine and delicious odors, Patsey stopped on her way from school to gather a bunch of wild-flowers.

They grew so thickly and there were so many different kinds, that she soon had a bouquet that was quite fit for a parlor.  On her way home she stopped at Dame Martha’s cottage.

“I am sorry, Dame Martha,” said she, “that I have nothing nice for you to-day, but I thought perhaps you would like to have some flowers, as it’s Spring-time and you can’t go out.”

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“Indeed, Miss Patsey,” said the sick woman, “you could’nt have brought me anything that would do my heart more good.  It’s like hearing the birds sing and sittin’ under the hedges in the blossoms, to hear you talk and to see them flowers.”

Patsey was very much pleased, of course, at this, and after that she brought Dame Martha a bouquet every day.

And soon the good woman looked for Patsey and her beautiful flowers as longingly and eagerly as she looked for the rising of the sun.

Old Hans very seldom came to see her now, and she took no more of his medicines.  It was of no use, and she had paid him every penny that she had to spare, besides a great many other things in the way of little odds and ends that lay about the house.  But when Patsey stopped in, one afternoon, a month or two after she had brought the first bunch of flowers, she said to the widow: 

“Dame Martha, I believe you are a great deal better.”