When we were growing up we had a neighbor man who seemed older than dirt. He lived in a big, two-story farm house down the road that was even older than he. Everyone called him by a nickname of "Happy". He seemed happy enough I guess. Anyway, Happy had a grand-fatherly affection for my sister. I think he thought she was just so cute with her little blond head. He called her "Babe". One day Babe twisted her ankle. It turned purple and swelled up. When Happy saw her limping around the yard, he headed out to the pasture to pick some mullein weed. He promptly returned and made a nasty-smelling poultice of mullein weed and mustard. Mom applied the poultice and although Babe wanted to take it off, she was made to wear it until Happy left that day. Ha Ha Ha--that's what you get for being the cute little sister!
