This is a herb-pillow, given to me by a wise old woman when I was ill in India.

It is filled with saffron, poppies, and other soothing plants; so lay your little head on it to-night, sleep sweetly without a dream, and wake to-morrow without a pain." "Shall I really?
How nice it smells." And Rose willingly received the pretty pillow, and stood enjoying its faint, sweet odour, as she listened to the doctor's next remedy.
"This is the cup I told you of.

Its virtue depends, they say, on the drinker filling it himself; so you must learn to milk.

I'll teach you." "I'm afraid I never can," said Rose; but she surveyed the cup with favour, for a funny little imp danced on the handle, as if all ready to take a header into the white sea below.
"Don't you think she ought to have something more strengthening than milk, Alec?
I really shall feel anxious if she does not have a tonic of some sort," said Aunt Plenty, eyeing the new remedies suspiciously, for she had more faith in her old-fashioned doses than all the magic cups and poppy pillows of the East.
"Well, ma'am, I'm willing to give her a pill, if you think best.

It is a very simple one, and very large quantities may be taken without harm.
You know hasheesh is the extract of hemp?
Well, this is a preparation of corn and rye, much used in old times, and I hope it will be again." "Dear me, how singular!" said Aunt Plenty, bringing her spectacles to bear upon the pills, with a face so full of respectful interest that it was almost too much for Dr.Alec's gravity.
"Take one in the morning, and a good-night to you, my dear," he said, dismissing his patient with a hearty kiss.
Then, as she vanished, he put both hands into his hair, exclaiming, with a comical mixture of anxiety and amusement, "When I think what I have undertaken, I declare to you, aunt, I feel like running away and not coming back till Rose is eighteen!".