“How did he cure him?” inquired the doctor.
“I don't know how he cured him,” replied the miller.
“Didn't you hear?” said the doctor.
“Yes, I heard,” replied the miller.
“Well,” said the doctor, “what did you hear?”
“I heard that he took ole Jerry to one side an' he asked him if he could see anything with that eye. An' ole Jerry said that he couldn't tell a man from a tree with it. Then the School-teacher put his hands on his eye, an' he made him look up an' and when the School-teacher got through ole Jerry could see. But he complained that his eye felt hot an' the School-teacher told him to hold a piece of wet clay against it—you know' that's awful good to draw out soreness—an' the next morning ole Jerry's eye was well. Now, how do you suppose he done it?”
“I don't suppose how he done 't,” replied the doctor. “I know how he done it. Ole Jerry got a wheat husk in that eye when he was thrashing, and it stuck against the lid back of the ball. The fools that looked into his eye by pushing the lid up couldn't see it. But when anybody come along with sense enough to turn the lid back he got the husk out and the eye got well.”
The miller crumpled the corner of her apron in her hand.
“I don't know about that,” she said. “D'd you hear how the School-teacher cured Sol Shreave's shoulder that he smashed in his clearing?”
“Yes, I heard it,” replied the doctor. “I was pretty apt to hear it.”