one Samuel Wallis, of Stamford, who had been long wasted with a lingering consumption, was sitting by the fire, reading in that delectable book called “Abraham’s Suit for Sodom.” He heard a knock at the door; and, as his nurse was absent, he crawled to open it himself. What he saw there, Samuel shall say in his own style:—“I beheld a proper, tall, grave old man. Thus he said: ‘Friend, I pray thee, give an old pilgrim a cup of small beere!’ And I said, ‘I am no Sir, therefore call me not Sir; but come in I must, for I cannot pass by thy doore.’
“After finishing the beer: ‘Friend,’ he said, ‘thou art not well.’ I said, ‘No, truly Sir, I have not been well this many yeares.’ He said, ‘What is thy disease?’ I said, ‘A deep consumption, Sir; our doctors say, past cure: for, truly, I am a very poor man, and not able to follow doctors’ councell.’ ‘Then,’ said he, ‘I will tell thee what thou shalt do; and, by the help and power of Almighty God above, thou shalt be well. Tomorrow, when thou risest up, go into thy garden, and get there two leaves of red sage, and one of bloodworte, and put them into a cup of thy small beere. Drink as often as need require, and when
