"Not when you get used to it." "And aren't you ashamed, making all that fuss ?" she went on happily.
"Yes'm, I guess so." "And don't you feel better?
Don't you see how much good it's doing you already ?" "Yes'm, I guess so." Upon a holiday morning, several weeks later, Penrod and Sam Williams revived a pastime that they called "drug store", setting up display counters, selling chemical, cosmetic and other compounds to imaginary customers, filling prescriptions and variously conducting themselves in a pharmaceutical manner.

They were in the midst of affairs when Penrod interrupted his partner and himself with a cry of recollection.
"_I_ know!" he shouted.

"I got some mighty good ole stuff we want.

You wait!" And, dashing to the house, he disappeared.
Returning immediately, Penrod placed upon the principal counter of the "drug store" a large bottle.

It was a quart bottle, in fact; and it contained what appeared to be a section of grassy swamp immersed in a cloudy brown liquor.
"There!" Penrod exclaimed.