The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1877-05-02

tied that life insurance pollcy on her anu
the children; she might have waited.
She didn't. The other day she eloped
with some fellow, I don't remember his
name, with the children and the five
thousand dollars"
"And the shock killed him" 1 said,
with poetic promptitude.
"No-that is-not yet; saw him yes
terday," said the doctor, with conscien-
tious professional precision, looking over
his list of calls.
"Well, where is the poor fellow now?'.
"He's still at the theater. James, if
these powders are called for, you'll find
them here in this envelope. Tell Mrs.
Blank I'll be there at seven-and she
can give the baby this until come. Say
there's no danger. These women are an
awful bother! Yes, he's at the theater
vet. Which way are you going? Down
town? Why can't you step into my car
riage, and I'll give you Lift, and we'll
talk on the way down? Wel-he's at
the theater yet. And-and- you re-
member the Destruction of Senna-
cl1erib'? No? Yes you do. You remem-
Der that woman in pink, who pirouet-
ted in the famous ballet scene 3! You
don't? Why yes, you do Well, l
imagine, of course 1 don't know-lt's
only summary diagnosis, but l imagine
that our friend with the aneurism has at-
tached himself to her."
doctor, you horrify me-
There are more things, Mr.. Poet, in
heaven and earth than are yet dreamt of
in your philosophy. Listen. My dag
nosis may be wrong, but that woman
called the other day at my Office to ask
about him, his health and general con-
dition. I told her the truth-and she
tainted. It was about rs dead faint as
I ever saw; I was nearly an hour in
bringing her out of it. OF course it was
the heat of the room, her exertions the
preceding week, and I prescribed for
her. Queer, wasn't it? Now, If were
writer, and had your faculty, I'd make
something out of that"
"But how is his general health ?"
"Oh, about the same. He can't evade
what will come, you know, at any mo-
ment. He was up here the other day.
Why the pulsation was as plain-why
tie entire arch of the aorta-What, you
get out here ? Goodbye"
Of course TO moralist, no man writing
for q sensiti7e and strictly virtuous pub
lie could further interest himself in this
man. So dismissed him at once from
nv mind, and returned to the literary
contemplation of virtue that was clearly
and positively defined, and of sin that
invariably commenced with capital let
ter. That this man, in his awful condi-
ton, lowering on the verge Of eternity,
should allow himself to be attracted by
-butit was horrible to contemplate.
Nevertheless, month afterward 1 was
returning from festivity with my init
mate friend Smith, my distinguished
friend Jobling, my most respectable
friend Robinson, and my wittiest friend
Jones. It was clear, starlit morning,
and we seemed to hold the broad, BEAU
tiful avenue to ourselves, and I fear we
acted as if it were SO. AS we hilariously
passed the corner of Eighteenth street,
a coupe rolled by, and I suddenly heard
my name called from its gloomy depths.
"I beg your pardon, said the doctor,
as the driver drew up on the sidewalk,
"but I've some news for you. I've just
been to see our poor friend -. Of
course was too late. He was gone in q
fash"
"What, dead?"
GAS Pharaoh In an instant, just as
I said. You see the rupture took place
in the descending arch of -
"But, doctor
"It's queer story. Am I keeping
you from your friends? No? Well,
you see she-that woman I spoke Of
had written note to him based on what
I had told her. he got it, and dropped
in his dressing-room, dead as herring"
"How could she have been SO cruel,
knowing his condition she might with
woman's tact have rejected him less
abruptly"
Eyes, but you're all wrong. BY Jove
she accepted him was willing to marry
him I"
"What?"
Yes-don't you see? 1t was Joy that
killed him. Cad, we never thought Of
thut Queer, amt it. See here, don't
you think you might make story out
of it?" g..
"But, doctor, it hasn't got any moral. "
Humph That's SO. Good morn
ing. Drive on John.-NeW York Sun.