“A magic medicine it shall be!”
George sat himself down at the table in the kitchen. He was shaking a little. Oh, how he hated Grandma! He really hated that horrid old witchy woman. And all of a sudden he had a tremendous urge to do something about her. Something whopping. Something absolutely terrific. A real shocker. A sort of explosion.
“I’m not going to be frightened by her,” he said softly to himself. But he was frightened. And that’s why he wanted suddenly to explode her away.
Well…not quite away. But he did want to shake the old woman up a bit.
Very well, then. What should it be, this whopping terrific exploding shocker for Grandma?
As George sat there pondering this interesting problem, his eye fell upon the bottle of Grandma’s brown medicine standing on the sideboard. Rotten stuff it seemed to be…and it didn’t do her the slightest bit of good. She was always just as horrid after she’d had it as she’d been before.
So-ho! thought George suddenly. I shall make her a new medicine, one that is so strong and so fierce and so fantastic it will either cure her completely or blow off the top of her head.
“Here we go, then!” cried George, jumping up from the table. “A magic medicine it shall be!”