The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1884-05-15

dreary and she had so many inquiries
| to answer about his health that she sell
dom went.
You'll miss me when I'm gone" he
would say cheerfully. and so she would.
| And she would have missed the old
clock in the corner, too, if it had sud-
denly disappeared.
"What does the doctor say about
me?' he asked her one day when the
village physician had gone out, first
calling her to one side. Perhaps Aunt
Nancy was little worn out that day,
or believed in heroic treatment, but she
deliberately answered:
ale thinks YOU haven't disease in
the world, Elisha, and that if you would
take more exercise it would be better
for YOU"
He was wounded to the quick, and did
not speak to her for twenty-four hours.
and he discharged the impolitic physi-
clan the next day.
Uncle 'Lisha was fond of lachrymose
hymns, and when not singing
"Hark from the tombs doefuI sound"
He would tip back in his chair-the east
est in the house-clOse his eyes and chant
by the hour:
I'm going home
No more TO roam,
No more TO sin and sorrow,
No more to bear
The brow of care,
I'm going home Tomorrow.
But to-mOrrowS came and went and
Uncle 'Lisha did not 90 home.
There was shelf in the closet which
was especially devoted to his medicines.
In his early DAYS he had dOsed mildly
with rhubarb and sarsaparilla. Then
quinine became the fashion and he dis
sipated on that. Liniments for rheu-
matism, patent nostrums and Alternative
pills, completed the list, except that
there was no end tn the domestic RENE
dies, such as mustard and ginger, and
other alternating agents.
when l am gone" he would say
mournfully, ''give my medicines to
some deserving poor person. There'll
never be another such sufferer in the
family as | have BEEN"
But there came day when even
Uncle 'Lisha's ailments were of little
account. Aunt Nancy was sick, very
sick. She had been breaking down all
summer, but no one had been con-
cerned, least of all her husband, who
had developed new symptoms. that
were very alarming himself. Finally
she went to her bed and sent for her
children. They at once called in doc
tor, who on his first visit looked ex-
ceedingly grave. Upon the second he
asked for a private interview with
Uncle 'Lisha.
"Your wife is very sick woman"
he said, abruptly.
''She does seem ailing," said Uncle
'Lisha, rubbing his lame knee, and for
getting at the moment which one it
was; 'sbut, bless you, I've had the same
symptoms SO long I'm used TO them,
doctor. She's well, compared to me,
actually well.
The doctor looked at the old man with
some contempt.
Threatened lives last long" he
said, bluntly. but have it your own
way. I've tried to prepare you-that's
ALL"
The doctor took leave. and Uncle
'Lisha went into the sick room. All
was calm and serene. Most of all,
that pale, still face on the pillow. The
patient eyes held the same kindly light
in them that had been there for thirty
years when they met his. The pinched,
white cheeks were only more sunken
and withered.
Having kind of spell, amt You.
Nancy?" said Uncle 'Lisha. "Now
don't git discouraged. I've felt jest
so hundreds of times! It's nothing new
and nothing to worry about"
I'm not worrying" said his wife,
family; Il am dying, 'Lisha.''
"Nancy, you oughtn't to talk about
such a serious thing as that so lightly.
my rheumatism worse, to
hear you. You ought TO have some
consideration for me. l can't STAND |
everything"
poor old boy" said Aunt Nancy,
shaking his plump, strong hand. "Poor
'Lisha! you will miss me for awhile"
There, there, now" said Uncle |
'Lisha. soothingly; "rll give you a
spoonful of my tonic in the morning
and you'll come out like n lark in the |
springtime, Go to sleep, Nancy; it'll |
help you wonderfully. 1t always helps |
me-"
The next morning Aunt Nancy had |
taken the tonic of anew life. I'm
going home first, after ALL" she said, |
with a smile, and dice.
This upset all the calculations of a
lifetime with Uncle 'Lisha. He had
10 complain to, no one who
cared in the least whether he had twenty
ailments or one. He was not encour-
aged to be lazy. and helpless and selfish, t
and he fell into complete ruin. He had
enough to live on, but nothing to live
for, IS he could not complain to him
self, or discuss with himself his own
symptoms. He never talked of dying
or sang sim going home" again. In
fine weather he went up to his wife's
grave. Doubtless it would have dis
tressed her had she known that she was
deaf to bis complaints. In his room a
dress and shawl of hers hung near his
chair. When he finally became i'll in
he made light of it. For their
mothers sake the children tended him
One night he stretched ont
3 wasted hand and touched his wife's
dress.
Nancy" they heard him whisper,
I'm going home. I'm going home to-
10
They buried him beside her.-Mrs
II. L. Payne, in Detroit Free Press.
An infuriated bull at Laredo, Tex,
made an attack upon the I'M