Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1906-12-28

shakes the snow from his heavy-nailed
shoes and lifts the latch OF a door. which
creaks on its hinges. At the sound an
other door opens, sending a flood OF light
into the dark passage.
This way, sir, please come in," cries
a woman's voice.
on large bed hung with blue and
white curtains la1 my patient, very pale,
his eyes closed. \ woman was sitting be-
side him and reading aloud from a large
book with red edges; two men were
standing hat in hand. listening. At my
entrance Louis opened his eyes:-
Il am sorry 70 have disturbed you, sir
II was not worth while to come so far and
so late; medicins can do nothing for old
age; when the time comes one must go.
These good peope do not believe 1t; they
were frightened and sent for you without
telling me-"
You do not seem TO be very ILL.," ]
said. as, taxing seat by his side, felt
his pulse.
"Sici, no,-but old. Old nuts have also
n solid SHE'LL and II the lamp is not OF
glass nothing Indicates that the oil is
nearly burned out; and my oil is nearly
spent l feel it
How old are you. Father LOuis?"
Eighty in an hour doctor. was born
with the century on st. Sylvester, just as
the bells were ringing in the New year.
We have grown Old together, the century
and I; 1t win rum its course, a have An
ished mine"
He was silent lew minutes, then look
ing me in the faek, he said:
What does 1y pulse say, doctor?
Shall last till thu new year?''
hesitated; th4 pulse was rapid, very
weak, sometimesI intermittent, the skin
cold and damp, 1.-The voice broixen,-not
favorable signs,-truly the oil in the lamp
was nearly spent
1T is finished, Is II not? am certain
Of 1t. Fanchette was reading to me the
prayer for the dying. have often read
1t to prepare myself; It is good reading,
doctor useful al ones life. 1 am not
afraid OF death, but I should like to hear
the bells once mere"
Another pause longer than the first,
then the, old man. in voice to which
emotion seemed to give new strength,
continued:
My mother vas a pious woman, sir,
and the sound q the bells which greeted
my birth filled Ter with Joy; It seemed a
good omen. Alasl she was mistaken, for
the next year my father died and we were
left alone, she lesolate, hardly able 10
walk. But she did not lose courage and
had but one object In life, to make her
son an honest man. Every Sylvester at
midnight she aRoke me, opened the win
came up from the valley she would say to
me- Louis, your father was a good man
every time that you hear the bells think
OF him and be 4 good man.
AT first did not understand, was too
young for that, thought It was a cere-
mony belonging to the new year; but with
the years came understanding, ana ali INV
life the bells have repeated to me Louis,
De good man, good man. / love the
bells; those In the evening say Peace on
earth; those on st. Sylvester, more
solemn. mark the stages OF life Always
when listening to them have thought OF
my father, killed in a fire. a victim to his
courage and humanity. for he gave his
life FOR others; and then of my poor
mother, so sad in her Widows dress; her
Kisses, her prayers, the songs with which
she sang me to sleep. Louis, be a good
man -how often have these simple words
sustal ped and strengthened me! Oh, yes.
the ells are my friends, their voice
sIeaH to my heart, and tonight they will
give le their last farewell"
Thd old mans breathing became dim
eqlt ais eye CLASSY, the lines OF death
wore deepening in his face. Death which