The Madisonian. (Virginia City, Mont.) 1873-1915, 1895-07-06
AN UNSIGNED WILL.

miles from home, and cold and hungry.
"How is she?:' he said to the gaunt,
grim old woman who opened the door.
Il don't know. Better see yourself.
Tn no doctor" was the rough reply.
The room was low and mean, but the
woman who lay on the bed struggling
with death had q coquettish air that
FLASHED with her age. Perhaps it came
from the real lace on her nightcap, per-
haps from the yalenciennes that encir-
cled her shriveled brown throat, or
maybe the golden fringe, which, too
young for the shrunken face, gave it to
her.
"Amaryll.s," said the surly woman,
there's the doctor.
The humble country practitioner step
ped forward, and even in the dim lamp
light could be seen the flannel cuffs.
hiatus OF gray stocking between old
trousers and clumsy boots, fraved linen
twofold collar, silver watch chain and
greasy, ready made tie that betrayed the
small local practice.
"Amaryllis, wake up, wake mp. Doc
tors here. God knows you've called
enough for him."
The woman on the bed, whose name
seemed a jest, opened her heavy. vague
eyes, cOughed family and grOaned.
rs it Dr.. Watson, Janet:' she asked.
"Of course! There's none other for
miles, was the testy reply.
Dr.. Watson went through the orthodox
farce Of feeling pulse and taking temper
allure, but saw at a glance that She wa
at the last whirl il her dance Of death.
Has she made her will" he asked
softly.
However, Amaryllis caught the words,
and in d cracked scream of excitement
said:
That's it. That's it, doctor, I want
to make a viii. can't die easy. Janet,
get him pen and ink.
Its nonsense, doctor" said Janet.
Let her die il peace, She need make
no will-she's no kith nor kin but me,
her sister"
Put the pillow under my head, both
pillows, called the patient. I'm chOk-
ing Yes, that's it. Now, doctor, for
Gods mercy do what l ask-Janet will
let me-or I can't die easy"
Janet's face grew black with anger.
'She's not fit to make a will, and
Tn all she has i'll the world, = said she.
Listen, listen, doctor, I'm il my
mind, I can't die easy. It's short
enough-G3, GEO and the cottage to
Janet, the rest to Charles Hartford, now
on the training ship, the Monarch"
The doctor took out a styloglaphic
pen and picked up from the fender an
old letter, or only one side Of which
there was writing.
s'1toD, stopl' said Janet. ''Shc's mad.
Ihcre's ne slch person. ASK her WHO
he is.
''G5ol foraiZo me. - grolnea Anarv1
lis. 'sL'll2lahauYilr il sll-c one knows
I've been a wicked woman"
The doctor surinh7cd some can de
cologne on her nead from a curious ulC
silver battle that stood on q char Lvth,
bedside and gave her Somethingto drinl
ont Of a meaieina- bottle. Then VIII
dhsperato ENERGY the old woman tol,
her story. de.Dite the efforts of death f
check her ggrrcL.
..Tather I'D mother were circ!. goo
poo0le. and was a b!itaa Young wulna.
that hatod,oml1sh and psalms ana duI
Sunday books, No when he came, Fran
Hartford, til. handsome sailor. he ha
my heart fer the asking. They woul
none Of his addresses. tur lie wasn't
God fearing man. they said, SO off "
went with 10 blessing from rarson, IN
q curse from father. It lasted for tc
wears we'll enough. I mad q little hou.