The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1884-06-05

NiOhA "Nhe'
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 suddenly 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 be-
lieved in heroic treatment, but she de-
liberately answered.:
He 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
physician the next day.
Uncle 'Lisha was fond of lachrymose
hymns, and when not singing
"Hark, from the tombs doleful sound"
he would tip back 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 wear
The brow OF care,
I'm 20 ng home tomorrow.
But to-morrows came and went, and
Uncle 'Lisha did not go 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 rheuma-
tism, patent nostrums and Alternative
pills completed the list, except that
there was no end to the domestic rem
edies, 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. There1l never
be another such sufferer in the family
as have been"
But there came a 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 concern
ed, least of all her husband, who had
developed new symptoms that were
very alarming-to himself. Finally,
she went to her bed and sent for the
children They at once called in a
Doctor, 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
Elisha, rubbing his lame knee, and for
getting at the moment which one it
was; "but, bless you, I've had the same
symptoms so long Pm used to them,
Doctor. She's well, compared to me,
actually we'll"
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-thats all.
The doctor took his 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 pa
tient 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 W thered.
Having a kind of spell, amt you,
Nancy?" said Uncle 'Lisha. Nov,
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; 81 am dying, 'Lisha."
Name, YOU oughtn't to talk about
such q serious thing as that so lightly.
It-it-makes M rheumatic worse to
hear you. You ought TO have some
c. nsideration for me. / can't stand ev-
erything.'
Poor old boy" said Aunt Nan
cv, shaking his plump, strong hand.
Poor 'Lisha You will miss me for
awhile"
"There, there, now" said Uncle Lii
sha, soothingly: I'll give you spoon
full of my tonic in the morning, and
You'll come out like a lark in the
spring time. Go to sleep, Nancy; it'll
help you wonderfully. 1t always helps
me-"
The next morning Aunt Lucy had
! taken the tonic OF a new life. I'm go
ing home first. after all, she said with
o smile, and died.
This upset all the calculations of a
life time with Uncle 'Lisha. He had
nobody to complain to, no one who
cared In the least whether he had
twenty ailments or one. He was not
encouraged to be lazy, and helpless,
and selfish, and he fell into complete
ruin. He had enough to live on, but
moth ng to live for, as he could not
complain to himself, or discuss with
hims If his own symptoms. He never
talked of dying or sung I'm going
home" again. Iu fine weather he went
mp to his wife's grave. Doubt IS il
would have distressed ler had she known
that she WIS deaf to his complaints,
In his room dress and shawl of hers
hung near his chair When h finally
became i'll in earnest he ma 10 light OF
it. For their mothers sake the ohil-