The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1878-08-29

aAA lI1uG IL III tilJ Blrls lEtL
kape quiet. No, don't be so spoonkey
an let me fix yer pilley. I'll brin
Johnny, and yeez can tell him what [
write Bad luck to himl it was his fas
. we're down as ye are ROW."
MY AMANUENsIs
Johnny comes according to promis,
He has all the physical and mental chal
scteristics of the Irishman's America
son born and bred in large city
Johnny is sharp, fairly educated, but
confirmed hoOdium. He is 10 wears {
age, freckle-faced, strongly built, an
rather a good looking youth With all hi
hardened disregard of the conventional
tiles, can easily see that he respect
me because | am newspaper-man. II
is an ardent lover of the horrible an,
the exciting. He comprehends that th
midnight murder, the awful accident
the tragic suicide, the criminal trial, tn
big sporting events of the day, from
prize-fght or regatta down TO a gam
of baseball, are all witnessed bv news
paper-men, and he looks up to me a
an authoritative source of golden in
formation
Win ne write as dictated? OF cours,
he will. Is he not afraid of catching
the fever? No; he has been there. al
right.
1t is six weeks, or rather more, since
I lounged into the billiard-room of the
St. Charles Hotel, and looked at the
| flying ivory spheres as they were being
manipulated by two local crack PLAYERS
There is yellow fever in the city, though
the newspapers say nothing on the sub
ject. One of the players, as he chalks
his cue, makes jesting allusion on the
arrival of
JEROME JOHN"
have been feeling an inexplicable SEN
sation growing over me, enveloping my
limbs, covering my back, and swathing
my chest with garment of shuddering
uneasiness. l didn't ike the players
remark. l inwardly wished that his OPP
ponent might beat him that game, and
strobe TO one of the seats against the
wall. was about turning round to sit
down, when something like q cricket
bat struck me on the back, and felt a
terrible decrease in vitality. Why do
say a cricket-batP Because it felt as
though light piece of wood, fashioned
like the flattiss rounded blade of a
cricket-bat, had struck me squarely, but
not very hard, across the back, several
inches below the shoulder blades. l
sink into the chair. a dull, but over
mastering pain shoots through my head :;
my limbs tremble. | stare with peril
nacity at the game, however. My favor
lite player has an apparently impossible
shot. He looks at the situation of the
balls, and whistles deprecatingly as he
chalks his cue. With a swift motion, as
if he had made up his mind for coup
di1iciIe, he shoots his bail against the
object sphere. His ivory globe spins
swiftly round the table, making one,
two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight
cushions, twice round the table, and
caroms. The spectators hum applause;
an enthusiastic, swarthy faced Creole
pounds his stick on the floor My head
becomes oppressed with load of pain,
and cold chills shoot up my back.
''wHERE DO YOU LIvEp"
asks the swarthy face. look half va
cantly in his face, and gurgle, "No. -
Baronne Street" The billiard-room,
crowded a moment before, is empty.
My landlady is an old North-of-
Ireland woman, and she has kept board
ing honse in New Orleans for 80 years.
Her husband died of yellow fever dur
ing a bad season before the war, and she
manages her extensive business, with
the help of her unmarried daughter
My room is in a building rented by her
across the way for single mems apart
ments, and the roomers in that house
come across the way for their meals.
"DOn't be afraid, nOw!" said the old
lady; "I'n get Mrs. Delaney for We,
and we'll get you through. The doctor
will be round in a little while"
"Give me some ice-water," l cry
huskily; "quick, for the love of God!"
She answered that she would. During
every half-lucid moment in the next four
days, when my stout, imperious, kind
hearted Irish nurse gave me, at excru-
ciatingly long intervals, spoonful of
ice-water, and sometimes piece of ice
the size of a hazel-nut, | raved, and
cursed at my landlady. She was vile,
she was atrocious, she was infamous!
The recollection that she had promised
me ice-water, and had heartlessly gone
back on her word, filled me with tenn
pestuous indignation. OH if she had
given me that cooling drink [ would
have been well. l would not have been
the fiery furnace that L am. 1t would
have choked off the
DEMON OF THIRST
which is now consuming my vitals. Now
can drink the whole water-supply of
the city! What ecstasy to be one of the
y inch pipes of the Detroit water
works! / wish the Mississippi River to
flow down my throat! OH give me the
ocean itself, with my personal orifice
somewhere in the Arctic seas near the
frozen pole!
The long night slowly fits away, and
the blazing sun again scorches the
city. Mrs. Delaney, by
a fortunate chance, has been secured.
Her last patient, Northern business
man, had died. Mrs. Delaney does not
pretend to be very sorry. She is 81
years of age, but more active than many
a young lady of 20. She knows her bus
mess thoroughly, and has no vain senti-
in her composition. In the
of my restless tumbling about
he bed [ commune with Mrs. Delaney.
Her first experience with yellow fever
was many years ago--in the bad season
Of 1S37-when
HER FIRST HUSBAND
was a victim to the plague, and she was
left alone with baby to fight the battle
of life. She married again, she tells me,
and her second husband is not dead yet.
She remarks in crisp voice that she
doesn't know where he is, and she
doesn't care. We change the subject.
1 find that can not possibly die to-
day. This is the second, and conse-
quently an eveH number of days.
MAY DIE TOMORROW,
which is Wednesday, the third day; or
| may become defunet on Friday, the
fifth day; or may shuttle off this fiery,
coil on Sunday, the seventh