Milford chronicle., 1885-01-30

sang Sarah, full of mischief. "Come,
now, Rose, if you don't put on the COM
press you'll have hysteric and be car
ried off to bed, and never have the
pleasure Of seeing your wayfarer revive. "
And soothed by Tom, and vexed by the
girls, Rose put on the compress and
We { to see if her charge could swallow
n little beef extract while Tom saun-
tered into the reception room to lift the
mans eyelid and observe whether its
pupil contracted before light, concerning
which if he came to any conclusion he
did not announce it, as he sauntered out
again.
"I'm afraid it's ofno use, poor fellow, ="
said his sister Sarah, as the half tea
spoonful of beef extract occasioned no
action. "Now, Rose, you're all tired
out with your efforts and excitement,
and nerves and things, and you go to
bed and I'll sit up here and call you if
if-you know-if anything happens"
"Well, I guess I shall leave you alone
here all night with dying man |" said
Rose. "We won't either of us sit up.
We've done our share. I'll give Stout
dollar and he shall sit up. Now, Tom,
let us have some oysters and glass of
sherry; we need il. It seems a little too
bad, though, for us to be merry-making
and that poor soul in there Just passing
through the awful gates r.
All the same they did. ga perfect old
man of the sea it is to be, " said her sis
ter May, ''if you go on so about him.
And they had some hot soup and sherry
and oysters; and Stout took a big arm
chair for the night, prepared to go sound
asleep as soon as the bedroom doors
closed, and by eleven o'clock, feeling
they had done all they could in the alb
sence of the doctor, the family aban-
doned themselves to dreams.
It was a little past the first of the wee
sIna' hours. Stout thought. whe.~ 81.
awakened from his own musieA sum-
bers by a strange sound, or ratner eessa-
ton Of sound, and for moment MS
flesh arept. The dyins man was sitting
up in bed and was tearing frantically at
bis neck, Lis vvists his ankles, the soles
of his feet, and was talking to himself,
as Stout expressed it, like house afre.
Jerusalem where've I got to?" he
muttered. "Have I died? And is
this"
''No, it amt, said Stout.
"Wel, then, I'm burning up alive, l
tell you'll" said the stranger, tearing
away at his mustard plasters. "Here's
the back Of my neck a condemned
cinder; my wrists are blisters; my feet
feel as if they'd been walking on red
hot gridirons Ifthis amt there, where
is itP"
'It's place called Blossombank,
said Stout; "oWned by the EYanses,
where yOu were taken in"
"And done for" groaned the man.
"How in time am I going to walk on
these feet? They are a solid blister.
How came I here, anyway ?" he roared.
Stout got up and shut the door, and
leisurely told him, enjoying his sketch
of his little neighbor, Mrs. Rose, and
the by-play of the rest of the family.
''Drunk, by gracious p said the pa
tent "Who'd have thought a quart OF
cider would do all that? But you never
can tell what cider on top of CLANS will
do; remember that, young man. Espe-
cially when it is seven years old. l
guess there was a little stone fence in
that cider. "
"a little" said Stout, dryly. SAT
least thought so when we brought you
in"
"Anybody but a meddlesome fool
would have let me alone. However,
Good Samaritan sort of people here, I
reckon?"-as he tugged at his last band
age.
nSort of new at IT," said Stout.
"Good plaything, that sort of thing.
Outgrow it when they find just about
how grateful folks are"
"They'll find just about how grateful
am r. said the stranger. "Setting
every drop of blood in my body into
blazes i've half a mind to set fire to
their old rookery of a house. What did
you say it was called ?"
"Bossombank. Tom Evans, you know;
held in his wife's name, Mrs. Rose"
"H'ml HIM! Little woman, yellow
curls, brown eyes? ? I've seen her some
times going by-looks like my Nell that
died and they thought 1 had apoplexy,
said the stranger, after pause. "And
didn't know me from a side Of sole
leather? And had me fetched into their
house for better rworse2 ? That's about
the breadth Of il. &"
"About, " said Stout.
"Put up my horse?"
"Certain."
"Look here. 1 suppose for fifty cents
you'd 90 out and put my horse in, and
help me TO limp alongP Curse the luck ]
I should think I'd been rOked upon q
bed of hot Goals That's Christian
fellow. HIM Pen and ink round
here p he asked, gazing about. "H m !
Leave 'em a line to tell 'em what I think
of their tearing the skin off the soles OF
my feet, and give it to 'em IN the
morning /"
II don't want to be hurting Mrs.
Roses feelings" said Stout. 1--WE
kinder like the Evanses. "
"You do as you're are bid, and no
questions asked. You don't get nifty
cents every day for that. There p And
he flung down the pen he had been
using, and left a folded paper in Stouts
hand. And then Stout put his shoul-
ders under the indignant persons arms,
and helped him through the dining,
room and passages and kitchens, and
out the back door and into his wagon,
hitched in the horse, took the ifty-cent..
piece. bade the stranger good night, and
returned and laid the folded paper at
what he judged ought to be Mrs. Roses
place at the breakfast tPble, which
Mandy, with her customary provision,
had laid overnight, after clearing off the
fragments of the previous banquet.
Il was at the peep of day that Mrs.
Rose, throwing on her wrapper, thrust
her feet into her little slippers, and crept
downstairs. Her eyes were but half
open, but they sprang wider at the
vision Of the reception-room. Stout's
chair was empty, the cot was empty, the
bed- othes were tossed about, the
CARPET was strewn with dried mustard
plasters and torn bandages and pins and
strings--her sacred reception-room J
For an instant she stared about her, and
then sprang for the back door. 1t was
oman. fba yard was annpty. She bOlted