The assurance of the apothecary that the case appeared hopeless only added to the distress of the poor man, whose sands seemed now indeed to be running low.
Stirred to the depths by the agony of his visitor, the apothecary at length said,
"My friend, I would be glad to help you, but it is impossible for me to let you have a drink of spirituous liquor unless you have a doctor's certificate or have been snake-bit."
At the last-mentioned suggestion, the face of the man of repeated disappointments measurably brightened, and he eagerly inquired where he could find a snake. The now sympathetic man of bottles told him to follow the main road three miles to the forks, and then a few hundred yards to the west, and he would find a small grove of decayed tress, where there still lingered a few snakes, and by the exercise of a reasonable degree of diligence he might manage to get bit, and thereby lay the foundation for the desired relief. With bundle again in place, and evincing a buoyancy of manner to which he had been a stranger for many hours, the traveller resumed the quest.
Hours later, when the shadows had lengthened, and the fire-flies were glistening in the distance,
"With a look so piteous in purport,
As if he had been loosed out of hell
To speak of horrors,"
he re-entered the apothecary's shop, threw down his bundle, and in tones suggestive of the agony of lost souls, again begged for a drink.
"Did you get snake-bit?" was the feeling inquiry of the man at the helm.
"No," was the heart-rending reply, "every snake I met had engagements six months ahead, for all the bites he could furnish!"