SUMMER m A BOa. 3Y 



the druggist and Chinese laundryman. He 

 knows its haunts and that of certain other 

 medicinal herbs. He is known as "Doc." 

 Probably he practices the healing art among a 

 choice circle of his humble friends. It is as the 

 vender of hazelnuts and 'seng that he stands 

 among my acquaintance. 



He is somewhat below the average in height, 

 lean and wrinkled. His garments are faded to 

 the color of the dust, yet he has an air of self- 

 respect that wins confidence. 



Driving out to the farm one morning, I 

 passed him on the road, then stopped and waited 

 till he caught up. 



' ' G'ood day. Do you want a lift to rest your 

 tired feet?" 



"Thank y', I don't care ef I do," and he 

 beamed a watery smile. 



"And how is the ginseng crop coming on? 

 Do you find much?" 



' ' Not any more, I do n 't. Hev ' to walk miles 

 and miles 'fore I find 'nuff to make it wu'th 

 while to go to the store. It 's gittin' mighty 

 skeerce." 



"Do you find any other plants that are good 

 in doctoring?" 



"Yes 'm. The's golden seal, an' spik, an' 

 sa'saparilla, an' a hull passel o' truck. But I 

 tell ye what — there ain't nothin' comes up to 



