I’ll go with the 1880 - 1900 timeline as well, with the narrator being born around the mid 1880s and the narrator’s daughter around the early 1900s. FWIW, I also picture the father / grandfather as an older man, likely being in his 40s when the narrator was born, so maybe a Civil War veteran, assuming that a Gypsy would have been allowed to serve.
be careful, next think we know we’ll have threads on when Cher’s Half Breed took place, or Billy Don’t Be A Hero, Wolf Creek Pass, Long Cool Woman, Miss Otis Regrets, Copacabana, Operator, Wildfire or Fast Car.
Not that I’d mind, actually, I have opinions on all those. 
Me, I have two opinion on when 25 or 6 to 4 takes place.
3:34 or 3:35 am!
Now, WHERE does it take place…
Chicago, of course. 
Then why do they sing so many songs set in NYC? Hmmm?
Just asking.
In a room with an analog clock
Well, I found a few antique sign auctions for “Dr. Good’s American Stomach Bitters”, but none of the mentions gives a date for the signs.
I’d feel comfortable guessing that the image dates from the 1910’s or earlier, based on the hairstyle.
That’s awesome! It would make sense if that’s the actual reference in the song. Although I would be a little disappointed, the moonshine angle was a bit racier, but this certainly fits.
This “Family Botanic Guide” from 1924 (PDF) refers to a Dr. Good a couple of times. No way of knowing if it’s the same doctor, of course.
I know F-all about antique anything.
But I’d not be at all surprised to find the same folks who make fake old crap to hang on the walls in restaurants such as Cracker Barrel also make fake “Dr. Good’s” signs where the name of the imaginary product was chosen based on the Cher song, not vice versa.
It’s not that hard to duplicate the style of vintage artwork with totally fresh work done this week on a computer.
It’s coincidental, because just the other day I had to resort to a tablespoon of Underberg after 24 hours of miserable stomach upset. Three doses of Pepto-Bismol and two doses of Simethicone had done nothing to ease my discomfort. I couldn’t lay down for more than five minutes without acid (or possibly bile?) bubbling up into my throat. I was exhausted, and my back was killing me.
I had taken what I thought was the last few drops in the house from a bottle of Underberg I had downstairs, which gave a little relief for an hour or so. Then I was whinging to the homies after dinner and spotted another box on a shelf in the dining room. One tablespoon and the relief was immediate. It really is stunning how these things can work. Sometimes it’s just exactly what you need.
I would assume the label isn’t real, or if it is there’s something else in the bottle when Papa sold it.
In those days they could be perfectly honest about what they contained.
You’re assuming they were actually Rom. More likely they were simply itinerant people. Maybe he lost his house in the civil war
Maybe his name is Virgil Cain.
Or worse yet, The Man with No Name. Lotta folks get killed when he’s around.
Does anybody really know?
Gypsies were what the townspeople called them, not the singer. Also tramps and thieves.