“This rose，” said Dr. Heidegger， with a sigh— “this samewithered and crumbling flower—blossomed five and fiftyyears ago. It was given me by Sylvia Ward， whose portraithangs yonder， and I meant to wear it in my bosom at ourwedding. Five and fifty years it has been treasured betweenthe leaves of this old volume. Now， would you deem itpossible that this rose of half a century could ever bloomagain？”
“Nonsense！” said the widow Wycherly， with a peevishtoss of her head. “You might as well ask whether an oldwoman’s wrinkled face could ever bloom again.”
“See！” answered Dr. Heidegger. He uncovered thevase and threw the faded rose into the water which itcontained. At first it lay lightly on the surface of the fluid，appearing to imbibe none of its moisture. Soon， however，a singular change began to be visible. The crushed anddried petals stirred and assumed a deepening tinge ofcrimson， as if the flower were reviving from a deathlikeslumber， the slender stalk and twigs of foliage becamegreen， and there was the rose of half a century， looking asfresh as when Sylvia Ward had first given it to her lover. Itwas scarcely full-blown， for some of its delicate red leavescurled modestly around its moist bosom， within whichtwo or three dewdrops were sparkling.
“That is certainly a very pretty deception，” said the doctor’sfriends—carelessly， however， for they had witnessed greatermiracles at a conjurer’s show. “Pray， how was it effected？”
“Did you never hear of the Fountain of Youth？” askedDr. Heidegger， “which Ponce de Leon， the Spanishadventurer， went in search of two or three centuries ago？”
“But did Ponce de Leon ever find it？” said the widowWycherly.
“No，” answered Dr. Heidegger， “for he never soughtit in the right place. The famous Fountain of Youth， if Iam rightly informed， is situated in the southern part ofthe Floridian peninsula， not far from Lake Macaco. Itssource is overshadowed by several gigantic magnoliaswhich， though numberless centuries old， have been keptas fresh as violets by the virtues of this wonderful water.
An acquaintance of mine， knowing my curiosity in suchmatters， has sent me what you see in the vase.”
“Ahem！” said Colonel Killigrew， who believed not a wordof the doctor’s story； “and what may be the effect of thisfluid on the human frame？”
“You shall judge for yourself， my dear colonel，” repliedDr. Heidegger. — “And all of you， my respected friends，are welcome to so much of this admirable fluid as mayrestore to you the bloom of youth. For my own part，having had much trouble in growing old， I am in no hurryto grow young again. With your permission， therefore， Iwill merely watch the progress of the experiment.”
While he spoke Dr. Heidegger had been filling the fourchampagne-glasses with the water of the Fountain ofYouth. It was apparently impregnated with an effervescentgas， for little bubbles were continually ascending fromthe depths of the glasses and bursting in silvery spray atthe surface. As the liquor diffused a pleasant perfume，the old people doubted not that it possessed cordial andcomfortable properties， and， though utter sceptics as toits rejuvenescent power， they were inclined to swallow it atonce. But Dr. Heidegger besought them to stay a moment.
“Before you drink， my respectable old friends，” said he，“it would be well that， with the experience of a lifetimeto direct you， you should draw up a few general rules foryour guidance in passing a second time through the perilsof youth. Think what a sin and shame it would be if， withyour peculiar advantages， you should not become patternsof virtue and wisdom to all the young people of the age！”
The doctor’s four venerable friends made him no answerexcept by a feeble and tremulous laugh， so very ridiculouswas the idea that， knowing how closely repentance treadsbehind the steps of error， they should ever go astray again.
“Drink， then，” said the doctor， bowing； “I rejoice that Ihave so well selected the subjects of my experiment.”
With palsied hands they raised the glasses to theirlips. The liquor， if it really possessed such virtues as Dr.
Heidegger imputed to it， could not have been bestowedon four human beings who needed it more woefully. Theylooked as if they had never known what youth or pleasurewas， but had been the offspring of Nature’s dotage， andalways the gray， decrepit， sapless， miserable creatures whonow sat stooping round the doctor’s table without lifeenough in their souls or bodies to be animated even by theprospect of growing young again. They drank off the waterand replaced their glasses on the table.
Assuredly， there was an almost immediate improvementin the aspect of the party—not unlike what might havebeen produced by a glass of generous wine—together witha sudden glow of cheerful sunshine， brightening over alltheir visages at once. There was a healthful suffusion ontheir cheeks instead of the ashen hue that had made themlook so corpse-like. They gazed at one another， and fanciedthat some magic power had really begun to smooth awaythe deep and sad inscriptions which Father Time had beenso long engraving on their brows. The widow Wycherlyadjusted her cap， for she felt almost like a woman again.
“Give us more of this wondrous water，” cried they， eagerly.
“We are younger， but we are still too old. Quick！ give usmore！”
“Patience， patience！” quoth Dr. Heidegger， who sat，watching the experiment with philosophic coolness. “Youhave been a long time growing old； surely you might becontent to grow young in half an hour. But the water is atyour service.” Again he filled their glasses with the liquorof youth， enough of which still remained in the vase toturn half the old people in the city to the age of their owngrandchildren.