The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1884-08-29
MIDNIGHT IN A DEAD HOUSE.

John was "agoin." The passing away
of mortal is an event about which
there is always something of the mys-
terious, and so we walked down the
long corridor and entered ward 12.
The nurse was right John was "agoin. .
Like an alto relieve, out of the crum.
pied pillow rose face that was Ro-
man in its rugged outline, and even
the pinched nose, sunken eyes and
compressed lips did not obliterate the
likeness to some of those historic busts
dug up among the ruins of early Italy.
A student said it looked like Seneca.
and truly there was much to recall the
old philosopher in the wrinkled fea-
lures.
The man in bed 27, restless with fe-
yer, turned over so as to face the couch
of the dying, and with wild staring
eyes watched every sinking respiration
of the old sailor.
An awkward plethoric beetle buzzed
around the gas jet in an irregular Or
bit, its hum being the only sound to
break the silence which the faint breath.
ings of the sufferer softly punctuated.
The doctor lifted the sheet and felt the
pulse of the patent. "Its' about over,'
he remarked and he laid down the
helpless arm.
There was rattle in the throat, a
long-drawn sigh, as if all the sorrows
of lifetime were relieved as it died
away, and then the eyes opered. They
looked into the doctors, and seeming
to find comfort in the returning glance
of compassion, they closed slowly.
Then there was a twitching of the
muscles of the mouth, and in supreme
climax of effort the lips moved and
family came forth, "Hard port it is,
sir" A slight tremor shook his frame
and all was over.
John had reached harbor.
Then there was tread of feet in
the corridor and the carriers of the
dead came in, and John was taken out
to the dead-house and laid beside other
storm tossed barks that had that day
found q last mooring place, whittier
the whole armada of humanity drift at
last. The hospital bell gave one stroke
to announce the departure of another
soul, and then the nurse looked over
the ward book to see who next should
receive his dose of medicine, and hos
pital life resumed its quiet current.
We went back to the portico and re-
sumed our cigars. "a curious fellow,
that" said the doctor this is his fifth
visit here, and he knew it would be his
last. He was always begging me to
be at bis side when the end came, and
by good luck chanced here tonight.
Strange as it may seem to you, this
same man was once king. You smile,
but, nevertheless, it is true. He was
cast away in the Pacific and reached
one Of the small islands out there,
where he lived and became the ruler OF
little kingdom. He longed for white
society and abdicated and went back to
the sea.
"But that is not what / want to
speak about" the doctor went on,
lighting fresh cigar. at is his curl
GUS ideas of his ability to come back
from the other world. He has talked
to me by the hour on this subject un.
til | put him down as spiritualist OF
the most orthodox kind He has prom.
ised me to make his presence known
on the night of his nativity, June 80,
and has excited my curiosity not lit
tle."
81 he could only do that" said l, 'it
would be the solvingof all our doubts. y
EYES," replied the doctor, ''Do mes.
sage ever came from beyond the Styx,
and good sailor as John was, he can
not, l believe, recross that inky flood.
The above little episode happened in
the Charity hospital about the middle
of May, 1869, and the doctor spoken Of
was one known and loved throughout
the city and State. 1t is but little
over a year since he, too, crossed the
Lethean stream, but before his death
he told the writer the facts given be-
low, speaking of them as curious CO.
incidence, and not for a moment look
ing at them in superstitious light.
He was a man of remarkable nerve,
was as brave as Occur de Leon and
would be as little daunted by the ap-
pearance of simon-pure ghost as he
would by the approach of an old friend
1t was but short time before his
death and whilst Canal street was a
pandemonium of sound, and horns and
fire-crackers were making Christmas
Eve hideous, that, seated in his office
the conversation turned on things su
pernatural. The trepidations of youth
over spooks and the fears OF the super.
stitious of older growth were laughed
at, and it was not until the subject
drifted to hospital life that the doctor
exclaimed:
"Thats a fact l don't believe evel
told you my experience in the dead
house of the hospital after Sailor Johni
death. l never cared about saying
anything regarding it, for if have tc
confess it, for the first time in my lif,
/ was little weak.
"You know the dead-house at Chair
ty hospital and its interior? Well, / hat
had case of aneurism that puzzled
all of us, and, being a young physician
then, had natural pride in my dag
nosis, which did not agree with that O
the other surgeons. So | determined
& that when the patient died, as he wa
sure to do, l would hold an autopsy
Well, the poor fellow succumbed a
last, and as | had been busy all day
could not get back to the hospital un
til II o'clock on the night of June 80
/ remember the date well. Illumina
ting the inside room of the dead house
there was but single gas burne
alight. Rigid on one of the dissectinl
tables was my subject awaiting me.
81 needn't tell you that, after all O
my student life at the hospital, goinl
out there at that time of night produc
ed not the slightest impression upol
me. We were too used to such thing
to notice them. In fact, 80 great wa
my desire to prove my diagnosis col
rect as against that of other physicians
| thought only of the case, and moth
ing else.
at was anything but a pleasan
night. | NAV saw that | cannot remem