Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1872-03-29
The Leisure Hour.
n WIGHT OF .uISERI..

1t was in London, a cold, clustering win
ter night in the year 1871. 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, rumbed in the Chin
ney, and even went so far as to tear off some
of the states on the roof in its mad impetu-
osity. Now and then the sharp patter of
hailstones was heard, and a few of them
rolled down the chimney, falling, splitting
and spluttering, on the blazing Goals be-
neath
But the storm did not affect me PERSONAL
ly, for was comfortably seated opposite
roaring fire in snug, cosy library, enjoy
ing cigar and chat with my old friend,
DIR. Fielding. The library-it was Field
in9's-was one of the most perfect 1 ever
saw the walls were covered with books,
excepting over the chimney piece, and that
part was hidden by a handsome looking
glass. The furniture was all carved, 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 devoid of
books, they having given place to box of
Havanas, goodsized decanter of brandy,
sugar lemons, and all the other ingred-
ents for a good, old-fashioned glass of
punch.
Fielding was a fine, clever fellow, who
had not only made great name in his pro-
fession, but good-sized fortune, which he
had now settled down to enjoy. By "set-
tied down" one must not imagine that my
friend had entirely retired far from it.
Perhaps he never worked harder than at
the period am now speaking about, only
he selected his own patients. Lord Tom
Noddy might write him hundred times,
offering as many guineas if he would but
come and look at a pimple that had pre-
dared to grow on his lord
ships 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 a penny for his trouble.
Fielding's great delight was in literature;
he had dabbled in it a little, and he belong
ed 10 all the literary clubs in London. He
would do anything for a man of letters,
and no sooner did he hear that one was i'll
than he:would call upon him as friend,
and, if he desired, attend as a doctor,
but would never take a fee. His best re-
ward, he declared, was to see his friend re-
instated in health, seated in his snug libra
ry, smoking cigar and talking over liter
ary affairs.
We had just lit our second cigars, refill
ed our tumblers, drawn our chairs closer
to tue fire and settled down in them with
that selfish feeling of satisfaction which ey-
cry one experiences at being warm and
on a cold, cheerless night.
when we were startled by loud single
knock at the street door. Now a single
k mock at any time is a most unpleasant
thing. A gentle one sounds mean and des-
picable; you can fancy the person who
made it starting back like Fear, in Collins
Ode to the Passions, "Even at the sound
himself had made !" but bold heavy
bang that wakes up the echoes all through
the house, especially If given about ten or
eleven at night, is terrible, causing cold
shiver to pass through your body as though
evil approached you.
"That is strange knock" said !.
VERY" replied Fielding; al wonder
who it can be?"
We were not long left in doubt, for the
servant entered the room and announced
that boy wanted to see DR.. Fielding.
"What does he want2 Can't he send a
message by You"
"Please, sir, he says he can't; he must
see you"
"Well, show him up" said Fielding.
years entered the room.
He was a short, shambing lad, with a
fierce, rough head of hair, large, staring
blue eyes, and not too clean hands and face.
His clothes were strong but common, and
hung closely around his spare figure.
(which of you is the doctor ?" asked the |
lad.
II am," answered Fielding. "What do
you want, my lad2"
Here is note for YOU" said the lad, at
the same time handing over a carelesslv
folded half-sheet Of paper. "Please to come
quick he is bad"
FIELDING took the paper and read 1t, and
then passed to me. It ran as follows:
DEAR FIELDINa,-Pm worse and worse
in fact have only to be a little more SO
and l shall be much better. In other
words, | am about making my farewell
bow on this worlds great theatre. Come
and see the fall of tho curtain. The per-
iormance is entirely for my benefit. Do
come old fellowi Charon will show the
way. Yours, ARTHUR BuRpoN.
at is as feared" said Fielding. "of
course / must go. VIII you accompany
me2"
"Where does Burden liver" inquired.
"That is more than know" replied Field
ing ''although we have been on intimate
terms for many years, he has never told