Quote, "I hired a wagon that night and commenced selling the bitters on Main Street.Fisher Hill was a low, malarial town; and a compound hypothetical pneumocardiac anti-scorbutic tonic was just what I diagnosed the crowd as needing.

The bitters started off like sweetbreads-on-toast at a vegetarian dinner.I had sold two dozen at fifty cents apiece when I felt somebody pull my coat tail.I knew what that meant; so I climbed down and sneaked a five dollar bill into the hand of a man with a German silver star on his lapel."