"Small bottles are no use," I said, "must have wholesale manufactory; we'll find that demi-john."
We started with two tins of condensed milk—to give it a bit of body—and a tin of Van Houten's cocoa made a grand colouring. Two big spoonfuls of red pepper, "to ginger it up." "Must mix our flavour," said Jimmy, "or they'll recognize the brand"—so in went Bengal chutney and strawberry jam. We were rummaging out our grocery box—"Sardines ain't much use, nor cheese, nor Danish butter; but here's a bottle of the nastiest pickles I ever tasted, let's give them the juice of that; they won't believe it's medicine unless it tastes bad."
"My tooth powder is nasty enough," said Jimmy, "Carbolic something, and warranted to do no harm—in it goes."
The two bottles of Dop were chucked in as a finish and the mixture was nasty enough for anybody—rich brown, creamy, and fiery hot.
Jimmy had entered heart and soul into the business.—"None's genuine without the label," he cried, and rushed at our small stationery box. "Hullo, sealing wax, here, you find a cork and seal it up; these cards will do for labels. Some of these niggers can read and write, so we must play the game right through. If they spot us we're done. Now, men—Genuine Chlorodyne—for coughs, colds, &c.—every three hours till the pain ceases; to be well shaken before taken. And another label—To O.C. No. 2, General Hospital, Viten Sideing,—On H.M. Service—free—franked. Dirty the paper a bit to show it's come a long way—then when we throw the jar away they'll see it's genuine."
"They don't have chlorodyne in our hospitals," I suggested.
"Go to blazes! the niggers aren't cute enough for that. But look here, old chap, you look a bit cheap; we'll resurrect you to start with. I'm afraid you'll have to take some, but I'll make it as small a dose as I can."
Then I lay down huddled up in a corner. The opening tableau was ready, and we rang up the curtain, or rather the tent-flap. Jimmy was as serious as a judge: "All present, conductor? All right; where's that medicine got to? Oh, there; now then, anybody got a corkscrew?" A hum went up from the figures squatting round. Jimmy held up his hand: "Quiet there, the captain is very bad; I must see to him first." He lifted my drooping head and forced a spoonful of the filth between my teeth.
I heaved a sigh, patted myself below the belt, rolled my eyes open, and stood up, fully recovered!
Astonishment mingled with applause!