"Si douce est la Marguerite."
Since ye little wisdom I have capacitie to acquire, soe oft gives me ye headache to distraction, I marvel not at Jupiter's payn in his head, when the goddess of wisdom sprang therefrom full growne.
This morn, to quiet ye payn brought on by too busie application, Mr. Gunnell would have me close my book and ramble forth with Cecy into ye fields. We strolled towards Walham Greene; and she was seeking for shepherd's purses and shepherd's needles, when she came running back to me, looking rather pale. I askt what had scared her, and she made answer that Gammer Gurney was coming along ye hedge. I bade her set aside her fears; and anon we come up with Gammer, who was puling at ye purple blossoms of ye deadly night-shade. I sayd, "Gammer, to what purpose gather that weed? knowest not 'tis evill?"
She sayth, mumbling, "What God hath created, that call not thou evill."
"Well, but," quo' I, "'tis poison."
"Aye, and medicine, too," returns Gammer, "I wonder what we poor souls might come to, if we tooke nowt for our ails and aches but what we could buy o' the potticary. We've got noe Dr. Clement, we poor folks, to be our leech o' the household."
"But hast no feare," quo' I, "of an overdose?"
"There's manie a doctor," sayth she, with an unpleasant leer, "that hath given that at first. In time he gets his hand in; and I've had a plenty o' practice—thanks to self and sister."
"I knew not," quoth I, "that thou hadst a sister."