When we arrived in Butler we went to a hotel, and there, in the seclusion of our room, the doctor manufactured three dozen bottles of the balsam, as many of the toothache drops and twice as many boxes of the tooth-powder.
At this distance of time I cannot recall the ingredients of these justly celebrated remedies, but I can cheerfully testify to their harmlessness.
The balsam was composed of two or three simple aromatic oils, the toothache drops was merely a diluted essence of the oil of cloves, and the wonderful tooth-powder chalk powdered and scented.
The labels for the various compounds the doctor carried in his oilcloth bag, and the bottles, boxes and various ingredients he purchased at the village drug stores.
I am almost ashamed to tell you what enormous profits he made on his sales, and will only mention that he once told me that the bottle and label formed nine-tenths of the cost of the Golden Balsam, which retailed at one dollar.
In these days the street vender of physic is an ordinary sight, but a quarter of a century ago he was almost unknown outside of the largest cities.
After being a month in the company of Doctor Norris I easily understood why he followed such a life. In the town of Butler two days’ sales netted him sixty dollars, and he made nearly as much in Beaver.
He was not always so successful, but, taking one week with another, I judged that he cleared at least fifty dollars, which was a bank president’s salary in those days.
His methods were such as are in use among this class of gentry all the world over.
Having prepared his stock in trade, he would gravely walk down the main street, followed by your humble servant.