Eaton weekly Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1866-1875, 1871-12-28
A NIGHT OF MISERY.


1t was in London, cold, clustering
winters night in the year 1861. The
wind came in heavy gusts, rushing down
the streets, and tearing round the
houses as if in search of any opening
by which to enter and gain shelter from
the fast falling snow. 1t beat against
the windows, rumbled in the chimney,
and even went so far as to tear of
some of the states on the roof in its
mad impetuosity. Now and then the
sharp patter of hail-stones was heard,
and few of them rolled down the
chimney, falling, splitting and sputter.
ing, on the blazing Goals beneath.
But the storm did not affect me per-
sonally, for 1 was comfortably seated
opposite roaring fire in a snug, cosy
library, enjoying cigar and a chat with
my old friend, DR.. Fielding. The library
it was Fielding's-was one of the
most perfect 1 ever saw; the walls we're
covered with books, excepting over the
chimney-piece and that part was hid
den by handsome looking glass. The
furniture was all carved oak, and-oh,
rare luxury EVERY chair an easy one.
The deep, red curtains were drawn, and
hung in graceful folds from their golden
cornices. A huge moderator lamp shed
a mellow light over the table, which, at
the present moment, was entirely de-
void of books, they having given place
to a box of Havanas, a good sized de-
cdnter of brandy, sugar, lemons, and all
the other ingredients for a good, old
fashioned glass of punch.
Fielding was fine, clever fellow, who
had not only made great name in his
profession, but good-sized fortune,
which he had settled down to enjoy.
By "settle down" one must not imagine
that my friend had entirely retired far
from it. Perhaps he never worked
harder in his life than at the period 1
am now speaking about, only he selected
his own patients. Lord Tom Noddy
might write him hundred times, offer
ing as many guineas if he would but
come and and look at a pimple that
had presumptuously dared to grow on
his lordship's face, but Fielding would
not bulge an inch. On the other hand,
if he heard of any real case of sickness,
he would hurry off to it, although he
knew he would never get penny for
his trouble.
Fielding's great delight was in itera-
ture :. he had dabbled in a little, and
belonged to all the literary clubs in
London. He would do anything for a
man of letters, and no sooner did he
hear one was i'll than he would call upon
him as friend, and, if desired, attend
ed as doctor, but would never take a
fee. His best reward, he declared,
was to see his friend reinstated in health,
seated in his snug library smoking a
cigar, and chatting over literary af-
airs.
We had just lit our second cigars, re-
filed our tumblers, drawn our chairs
closer to the fire and settled down in
them with the selfish feeling of satisfac
ton which every one experiences at
being warm and comfortable on cold,
cherries night, when we were startled
by single knock at the street door.
Now a single knock at any time is a
most unpleasant thing. A gentle one
fancy the person who gave it starting
back, like Fear in Collins Ode to the
Passic MS" Even at the sound himself
had de,"-but a bold, heavy
'bang" that wakes up the echoes all
through the house, especially if given
about ten or eleven at night, is terrible,
causing a cold shiver to pass through
yeur body as if something evil ap-
preached you.
"That's strange knock" said I.
"Very," replied Fielding, 81 wonder
who it can be-"
We were not left long in doubt, for
the servant entered the room and an
nounced that boy wanted to see DIR.
Fielding.
"What does he want? Can't he send
message by yau?"
Please, sir, he says he can't; he must
see you"
"WelI, show him up" said Fielding.
And the next moment a lad of about
welve years entered the room.
He was short, shambling lad, with
a fierce, rough head of hair, large, star
ing, blue eyes, and not too clean hands
and face. both of which worked ner-
vously. His clothes were strong but
common, and hung close around his
spare figure.
"Wh ch of you is the DOCTOR" asked
he boy.
81 am" replied Fielding. "What dc
you want, my boy?"
"Here is a note for you," said the
boy, at the same time handing ovel
a carelessly folded half sheet of pa
per. "Please to come quick; he is
bad"
Fielding took the paper and read it
and then passed it to me. 1t ran as fol
lows:
"DEAR FIELDING: Pm worse and
worse-in fact, 1 have only to be little
more so, and shall be much better. In
other words, am about making a fare
well bow on this worlds great theatre
Come and see the fall of the curtain
The performance is entirely for my
benefit. Do come, old fellow Charor
will show you the way.
Yours, ARTHUR BURDoN."
"It is as 1 feared" said Fielding
"Of course 1 must go. VIII you ac
ompany me?"
AS Burton was an old friend of mine
at once consented, and in very few
minutes we were in the street, following
our youthful guide.