St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1885-02-19

Mrs. Rose. "ARd if he's going to turn
poor wayfaring-''
ga poor wayfaring man of God F"
sang Sarah, full of mischief. 'hCome,
now. Rose, if you don't put on the com
press you'll have a hysteric, and be
carried off to bed, and never have the
pleasure of seeing your waytaTer re-
viye." Aud seethed by Tom, and Vex-
ed by the girls, Rose put GU the com
press, and went TO see if her charge
could swallow a little beef extract.
Tom sauntered into the reception room
to lift the mans eyelid, and observe
whether it's 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 of no use, poor fell
low said his sister Sarah. as the half
teaspoonful of beef extract oecasioned
no action. "Now, Rose, you're all tired
out with your efforts, and excitement,
and nerves, and things, and you go to
bed, and FL sit up here aud call you
if-if-you know-if anything hap
pens"
DWELL, l guess l shall. leave you
alone down here all night with a dying
man !" said Rose. eve won't either
of us sit up. We've done our share.
I'll give Stout dollar, and he snail sit
up. Now, Tom, let us have some Oys-
ters and glass of sherry !; we need it,
Ii seems little too bad, though, for
us to be merry making and that poor
soul in there just passing through the
awful gates :"
All the same they did SO. ga per-
feet old man of the sea it is to be" said
her sister May, 'if you go on so about
him." And they had some hot soup
and sherry and oysters and Stout
took big arm chair for the night, pre-
pared 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 absence of the
doctor, the family abandoned them
selves to dreams.
1t was little past the first of the
wee sma' hours, Stout thought, when
he was awakened from his own musical
slumbers by "A strange sound, or rather
cessation of sound, and for moment
his flesh crept. The dying man was
sitting up in bed, and was tearing fran
tIcally at his neck, his wrists, his
ankles. the soles of his feet, and was
talking to himself, as Stout expressed
it, like house atire.
'Jerusalem where've got to ?" he
muttered. "Have / died And is
this"
ENo, it amt" said Stout.
"Well, then, Pm burning up alive,
| tell you! !" said the stranger, tearing
away at his mustard plasters. "Here's
the back of my neck a condemned GIN
der; my wrists are blisters my feet
feel as if they'd been walking on red |
hot gridirens If this amt there, where
is it ~
otis a place called BlossOmbank,"
said Stout "owned by the Evanses,
where YOU were taken in"
"And done for" grOaned the man.
GLOW in time am | to walk on those
feet2 They are a solid blister. How
came 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 ~ 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
CLAIMS will do; remember that, young
man. Especially when it is seven years
old. guess there was a little stone
fence in that CIDER
ga little" said Stout, dryly. "At
least thought so when we brought
you in."
"Any body but meddIesome fool
would have let me alone. However,
good Samaritan sort of people here, /
reckon ?" as he tugged at his last ban
dage.
Sort of new at it," said Stout. "Good
plaything, that sort of thing. Outgrow
it when they find Just about how CRATE
full folks are"
They'll find just about how CRATE
full | am ~ said the stranger. 'Setting
every drop of blood in my body into
blazesi I've half a mind to set fire to
their old rookery of house. What
did You say it was called p
"Blossombank. Tom Evans, you
know held in his wife's name, Mrs.
Rose
Him, Inn Little woman, yellow
curls, brown eyes I've seen her some
times going by--looks like my Nell
that died and they thought l had apo
plexy," 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 or worse That's
about the breadth of it,
"About," said Stout.
"Put up my horseP'
Certain"
"LoOk here. | suppose for fifty cents
you'd go out and put my horse in, and
help me to limp along Curse the luck
| should think had been raked upon
bed of hot Goals. That's q Christian .
fellow. HIM! Pen aud ink round ,
hare 81 lie asked 1,azinn q hont OLD IN