“So I did gurgle into a barrel, and into a jug, too. It was all there was to tell. Sugar Cane had to tell the beginning of me because we came from the same thing. It was why I told the story, and dear knows it was a sweet story.”
“The gentleman with silver trimmed knee breeches will kindly tell us something further of himself,” said Cinnamon Stick in bland tones. “What are you good for?”
“I am used for soothing remedies in the pharmacies.”
“Soothing!” laughed Salt and Pepper. “I hope you have your picture on the outside of the bottles.”
“I do. They especially asked for it. I am good for many things besides medicine. Sour pickles could never be made without me, and as for peach pickles, you might have all the cloves and cinnamon in the world in them, would they be at all if it were not for me? As for my looks, I can’t help them. We all have to look like we are, and even though I look and seem sour, at heart I am sweet because really I have to have sugar to make the mother.”
“Mother!” cried bashful Allspice. “Have you really a dear mother?”
“Oh, my dear, not that kind of a mother. It is just some thick stringy stuff that grows in Vinegar as it ferments and makes it ferment quicker. It is just called mother.
“That is all I know about me. Thank you for your kind attention.”
“You are very welcome,” said Cinnamon Stick. “You really did very well after all.