George's Marvelous Medicine: George's Marvelous Medicine

He was especially tired of having to live in the same house as that grizzly old grunion of a grandma.

She spent all day and every day sitting in her chair by the window, and she was always complaining, grousing, grouching, grumbling, griping about something or other.

She spent all day and every day sitting in her chair by the window, and she was always complaining, grousing, grouching, grumbling, griping about something or other.

“But we have to grow, Grandma. If we didn’t grow, we’d never be grown-ups.”
“Rubbish, boy, rubbish,” she said. “Look at me. Am I growing? Certainly not.”

“Come closer to me, little boy,” she said, beckoning to him with a horny finger. “Come closer to me and I will tell you secrets."

As George sat there pondering this interesting problem, his eye fell upon the bottle of Grandma’s brown medicine standing on the sideboard.

In the bathroom, he gazed longingly at the famous and dreaded medicine cupboard. But he didn’t go near it. It was the only thing in the entire house he was forbidden to touch. He had made solemn promises to his parents about this, and he wasn’t going to break them.

In the bathroom, he gazed longingly at the famous and dreaded medicine cupboard. But he didn’t go near it. It was the only thing in the entire house he was forbidden to touch. He had made solemn promises to his parents about this, and he wasn’t going to break them.

Back in the kitchen, George put the huge stewing pot on the table and went over to the cupboard that served as a larder.

Let’s face it, George said to himself, hair spray and shaving cream and shoe polish are all very well, and they will no doubt cause some splendid explosions inside the old geezer, but what the magic mixture now needs is a touch of the real stuff, real pills and real tonics, to give it punch and muscle.

The next bottle he took down had about five hundred gigantic purple pills in it. FOR HORSES WITH HOARSE THROATS, it said on the label, the HOARSE-THROATED HORSE SHOULD SUCK ONE PILL TWICE A DAY.

Then there was a bottle of thick yellowish liquid. FOR COWS, BULLS AND BULLOCKS, the label said. WILL CURE COWPOX, COW MANGE, CRUMPLED HORNS, BAD BREATH IN BULLS, EARACHE, TOOTHACHE, HEADACHE, HOOF ACHE, TAIL ACHE AND SORE UDDERS.

Then there was a bottle of thick yellowish liquid. FOR COWS, BULLS AND BULLOCKS, the label said. WILL CURE COWPOX, COW MANGE, CRUMPLED HORNS, BAD BREATH IN BULLS, EARACHE, TOOTHACHE, HEADACHE, HOOF ACHE, TAIL ACHE AND SORE UDDERS.

The last bottle on the shelf was full of pale green pills, PIG PILLS, the label announced, FOR PIGS WITH PORK PRICKLES, TENDER TROTTERS, BRISTLE BLIGHT AND SWINE SICKNESS.

There was an old stick lying on the bench that had been used for stirring paint. George picked it up and started to stir his marvelous concoction.

Soon the marvelous mixture began to froth and foam.

It was a smell unlike any he had smelled before. It was a brutal and bewitching smell, spicy and staggering, fierce and frenzied, full of wizardry and magic.

It was a smell unlike any he had smelled before. It was a brutal and bewitching smell, spicy and staggering, fierce and frenzied, full of wizardry and magic.

There was a row of cans on the shelf, all colors, black, green, red, pink, white and brown. He reached for the can of brown. The label said simply DARK BROWN GLOSS PAINT ONE QUART.

“You’re a nasty little maggot!” The voice screeched back. “You’re a lazy and disobedient little worm and you’re growing too fast.”

It was a truly fantastic sight, this ancient scrawny old woman getting taller and taller, longer and longer, thinner and thinner, as though she were a piece of elastic being pulled upward by invisible hands.

Crash! The old girl’s head went through the ceiling as though it were butter. George stood in his bedroom gazing at the shambles.

George ran to the water trough to get a bucket of water.

“How about that then, eh, Mary?” Grandma shouted. “I’ll bet you’ve never seen a hen as big as that! That’s George’s giant hen, that is!”
“But...but...but...” stammered George’s mother.

“But how in the world did you get up on the roof?” cried the mother.
“I didn’t!” cackled the old woman. “My feet are still standing on the floor in the living room!”

This was too much for George’s mother to understand. She just goggled and gaped. She looked as though she was going to faint.

This was too much for George’s mother to understand. She just goggled and gaped. She looked as though she was going to faint.

Mr. Kranky was a small man with bandy legs and a huge head.

“It’s fantastic!” Mr. Kranky shouted, dancing around and around. “It’s colossal! It’s gigantic! It’s tremendous! It’s a miracle! How did you do it, George?”

“Come with me!” Mr. Kranky yelled, grabbing George by the arm. “Bring the medicine! For years and years I’ve been trying to breed bigger and bigger animals. Bigger bulls for beef. Bigger pigs for pork. Bigger sheep for mutton....”

“George!” Grandma yelled. “Oh, you horrible little boy! You disgusting little worm! Fetch me a cup of tea at once and a slice of currant cake!”

In a way, the medicine had done Grandma good. It had not made her any less grumpy or bad-tempered, but it seemed to have cured all her aches and pains, and she was suddenly as frisky as a ferret.

“I don’t know,” George said.
“Oh, yes you do,” Mr. Kranky said. “Come on, boy, think. There’s probably just one vital thing missing, and you’ve got to remember it.”

“There’s still something you’ve left out,” Mr. Kranky said.
“I can’t think what it could be,” George said.
“Give it up,” Mrs. Kranky said. “Pack it in. You’ll never get it right.”
Mr. Kranky looked very forlorn.

“Mother, where are you? Where’ve you gone? Where’ve you got to? How can I find you?” But she calmed down quite quickly. And by lunchtime, she was saying, “Ah well, I suppose it’s all for the best, really. She was a bit of a nuisance around the house, wasn’t she?”