Dandelion Wine (Green Town, #1)

by Ray Bradbury

stirred a green-looking porridge in a large glass. “Good Lord, what’s that?” asked her husband. “Looks like a milk shake been left out in the sun for forty years. Got kind of a fungus on it.” “Fight magic with magic.” “You going to drink that?” “Just before I go up into the Honeysuckle Ladies Lodge for the big doings.” Samuel Brown sniffed the concoction. “Take my advice. Get up those steps first, then drink it. What’s in it?” “Snow from angels’ wings, well, really menthol, to cool hell’s fires that burn you, it says in this book I got at the library. The juice of a fresh grape off the vine, for thinking clear sweet thoughts in the face of dark visions, it says. Also red rhubarb, cream of tartar, white sugar, white of eggs, spring water and clover buds with the strength of the good earth in them. Oh, I could go on all day. It’s here in the list, good against bad, white against black. I can’t lose!” “Oh, you’ll win, all right,” said her husband. “But will you know it?”