Jeff Peters has been engaged in as many schemes formaking money as there are recipes for cooking rice inCharleston， S.C.
Best of all I like to hear him tell of his earlier days whenhe sold liniments and cough cures on street corners， livinghand to mouth， heart to heart with the people， throwingheads or tails with fortune for his last coin.
“I struck Fisher Hill， Arkansaw，” said he， “in a buckskinsuit， moccasins， long hair and a thirty-carat diamond ringthat I got from an actor in Texarkana. I don’t know whathe ever did with the pocket knife I swapped him for it.
“I was Dr. Waugh-hoo， the celebrated Indian medicineman. I carried only one best bet just then， and that wasResurrection Bitters. It was made of life-giving plants andherbs accidentally discovered by Ta-qua-la， the beautifulwife of the chief of the Choctaw Nation， while gatheringtruck to garnish a platter of boiled dog for the annual corndance.
“Business hadn’t been good in the last town， so I onlyhad five dollars. I went to the Fisher Hill druggist and hecredited me for half a gross of eight-ounce bottles andcorks. I had the labels and ingredients in my valise， leftover from the last town. Life began to look rosy again afterI got in my hotel room with the water running from thetap， and the Resurrection Bitters lining up on the table bythe dozen.
“Fake？ No， sir. There was two dollars’ worth of fluidextract of cinchona and a dime’s worth of aniline inthat half-gross of bitters. I’ve gone through towns yearsafterwards and had folks ask for ’em again.
“I hired a wagon that night and commenced sellingthe bitters on Main Street. Fisher Hill was a low， malarialtown； and a compound hypothetical pneumocardiac antiscorbutictonic was just what I diagnosed the crowd as
needing. The bitters started off like sweetbreads-on-toastat a vegetarian dinner. I had sold two dozen at fifty centsapiece when I felt somebody pull my coat tail. I knewwhat that meant； so I climbed down and sneaked a fivedollar bill into the hand of a man with a German silver staron his lapel.
“‘Constable，’ says I， ‘it’s a fine night.’
“‘Have you got a city license，’ he asks， ‘to sell thisillegitimate essence of spooju that you flatter by the nameof medicine？’
“‘I have not，’ says I. ‘I didn’t know you had a city. If Ican find it to-morrow I’ll take one out if it’s necessary.’
“‘I’ll have to close you up till you do，’ says the constable.
“I quit selling and went back to the hotel. I was talkingto the landlord about it.
“‘Oh， you won’t stand no show in Fisher Hill，’ says he. ‘Dr.
Hoskins， the only doctor here， is a brother-in-law of theMayor， and they won’t allow no fake doctor to practice intown.’
“‘I don’t practice medicine，’ says I， ‘I’ve got a State peddler’slicense， and I take out a city one wherever they demand it.’
“I went to the Mayor’s office the next morning and theytold me he hadn’t showed up yet. They didn’t know whenhe’d be down. So Doc Waugh-hoo hunches down again ina hotel chair and lights a jimpson-weed regalia， and waits.
“By and by a young man in a blue necktie slips into thechair next to me and asks the time.
“‘Half-past ten，’ says I， ‘and you are Andy Tucker. I’veseen you work. Wasn’t it you that put up the Great CupidCombination package on the Southern States？ Let’s see， itwas a Chilian diamond engagement ring， a wedding ring，a potato masher， a bottle of soothing syrup and DorothyVernon—all for fifty cents.’
“Andy was pleased to hear that I remembered him. Hewas a good street man； and he was more than that—herespected his profession， and he was satisfied with 300per cent. profit. He had plenty of offers to go into theillegitimate drug and garden seed business； but he wasnever to be tempted off of the straight path.
“I wanted a partner， so Andy and me agreed to go outtogether. I told him about the situation in Fisher Hill andhow finances was low on account of the local mixture ofpolitics and jalap. Andy had just got in on the train thatmorning. He was pretty low himself， and was going tocanvass the whole town for a few dollars to build a newbattleship by popular subscription at Eureka Springs. Sowe went out and sat on the porch and talked it over.
“The next morning at eleven o’clock when I was sittingthere alone， an Uncle Tom shuffles into the hotel andasked for the doctor to come and see Judge Banks， who， itseems， was the mayor and a mighty sick man.
“‘I’m no doctor，’ says I. ‘Why don’t you go and get thedoctor？’
“‘Boss，’ says he. ‘Doc Hoskins am done gone twentymiles in de country to see some sick persons. He’s de onlydoctor in de town， and Massa Banks am powerful bad off.
He sent me to ax you to please， suh， come.’
“‘As man to man，’ says I， ‘I’ll go and look him over.’ So Iput a bottle of Resurrection Bitters in my pocket and goesup on the hill to the mayor’s mansion， the finest house intown， with a mannered roof and two cast iron dogs on thelawn.
“This Mayor Banks was in bed all but his whiskers andfeet. He was making internal noises that would have hadeverybody in San Francisco hiking for the parks. A youngman was standing by the bed holding a cup of water.
“‘Doc，’ says the Mayor， ‘I’m awful sick. I’m about to die.
Can’t you do nothing for me？’
“‘Mr. Mayor，’ says I， ‘I’m not a regular preordaineddisciple of S. Q. Lapius. I never took a course in a medicalcollege，’ says I. ‘I’ve just come as a fellow man to see if Icould be off assistance.’
“‘I’m deeply obliged，’ says he. ‘Doc Waugh-hoo， thisis my nephew， Mr. Biddle. He has tried to alleviate mydistress， but without success. Oh， Lordy！ Ow-ow-ow！！’ hesings out.
“I nods at Mr. Biddle and sets down by the bed and feelsthe mayor’s pulse. ‘Let me see your liver—your tongue，I mean，’ says I. Then I turns up the lids of his eyes andlooks close that the pupils of ’em.
“‘How long have you been sick？’ I asked.
“‘I was taken down—ow-ouch—last night，’ says theMayor. ‘Gimme something for it， doc， won’t you？’
“‘Mr. Fiddle，’ says I， ‘raise the window shade a bit， willyou？’
“‘Biddle，’ says the young man. ‘Do you feel like you couldeat some ham and eggs， Uncle James？’
