it a bit too fancy," he said. "But no. Plain and clear. That's the style. Have you thought how you'll fix it up?"
"We thought we'd nail it on the post under the board that says 'This House is Not to Let.'"
"Better let me clip it on the railings for you," said he "with a couple of nuts and bolts. It'll be more noticeable, and the boys won't nick it, I'll bring them herbs along to-night, and you'll see, day after to-morrow, you'll be able to walk down to the Court. That'll be Saturday, and I'll be there."
"How did you come to know so much about herbs?" Lucilla asked.
"I do know a bit," he said. "I learned it off my granny. She was a great one for herbs. Ay, and spells too. She'd alius got a rhyme to say when you took the herb tea or whatever it was."
"0h, do tell us what to say when you use the rosemary."
"I can't remember," he said; "but the rue one, it goes like this:
'Rue, rue, fair, kind and true,
Do as I would have thee do;
In a night, in a day,
Take my pains and griefs away.'"
"How lovely!" said Jane. "Say it again! I shall say it when I put the rue on my foot. And 'griefs' too? It's a cure for heartache."
"I understand from the book," said Simmons, "that in those old times when that book was written they just mean pains when they said griefs. It says rue will cure all ache and grief in the bones."
"Have you got the book?" the girls asked together and eagerly.
"That I have—I'll show it you some day," said Simmons. "Funny old book it is, with a picture at the beginning of a gentleman being ill in a four-poster and a doctor with a ham-frill round his neck holding a knife and a basin. Thank
