The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1918-08-08

Strix, and the author of many shor
stories of which "Isaacson's Death" i
| typical.
II 1t looked as if old lsaacson Svoult
have hard time to die. The pastor
|, had been with him twice, with al in
terval Of fourteen days, but alter each
call he brigh-eneC up, an lay there
| giving orders about the care Of his
garden and Observing everything rs
If noting was the matter. lie beeal
t. be actually troublesome.
Like most mariners, Isaacson had
been sailing a number of years before
he returned to cultivate his native soil,
and he did it then like a good i.llow.
So gradually he developed until he
was now the owner of half allotment
Of land, and of the best boats and fish
cries on the island, and had risen to
the second rank on the tax assessors
list. But what availed him worldly
honor and elevation now that ne was
to die?
He lay on his bed and groaned and
thought over this fact. He thought
over other facts, too. He had been a
great sinner and great rascal, both
with liquor and with women, white
women and black women and yellow
women. But when one is away for
months at a time from wife and chill
dren, and comes into the heat around
the line, one cannot steer a straight
course. God, who permits whatever
takes place, had surely also permitted
his sinful desires and acts. Though |
the priest said that it was the evil one
who brought all this about But God
at any rate permitted that the evil one
should play the mischief with man
kind. All this kept going around
Isaacson's head.
He groaned and walled, because his
sickness was on him again. There was
something that pushed from beneath
his stomach up against his breast and
squeezed his heart, and he thought
rs he had thought now for many weeks
with each attack: this is surely death
that's coming. This time it oppressed
him worse than ordinarily, and he rang
the cowbell which had been laid on a
chair by his bed.
His wife came in. She was a per-
son of go years, sunburned and wrink-
led, sinewy with fishing work, knotty {
and bent.
II think | am going to have more
pain, Johanna! You'd best send after
he pastor"
you're foolish with your pastor.
IS he going to keep going back and
'orth like ninny every time there :
5 something stuck in your gizzard? II
You'll never die, never. Shall give
'ou a glass of wine?" d
eyes, give it to me; perhaps then II
he pain in my breast will ease
ttle-Thanks, johanna Ohil Oil y
I'VE, but there's something there !"
nat ought to be eased -hoho-hm-hm II
is hard to die. All! I've been a a
reat sinner.
Johanna's face grew dark. "Oh yes
heard enough of that when you yere
onfessing. You we're a villain, that
on were; were false to me with each ca
nd every, though you gave me your Of
romise nchurch. But now you have A
our punishment" Id
AT0,1 I u
liked to the pastor? Dev--but it's ~
| the same-Oil OF! oi!-give me
ass now!-Thanks, Johanna, you're
ways kind-oil oil-now deaths a
mingl" :.
Isaacsons eyes seemed to stare sn
rough the roof and the air out into de
mewhere where his wife could not on
e. She became frightened.
"Isaacson dear, don't die, don't die!"
live me glass, that eases me
eat deall-Thanks, Johanna dear. ca
1t now go and tell the children and o of
andmother to come in, for this time Au
5 serious. | know it-don't cry, Jo- sui
ma, it's no use nowi" cra
With apron over her eyes, his wife he,
mt into the kitchen, where the rest
the family were eating their mid
, meal. With trembling hand Isaac
4 put glass of port wine to his lips for
was remarkable how much good it De
him. He remembered a certain ma
in Hamburg-a tavern
ere the whole crew of the brig Lee
line drank strong beer and schnapps |
ere was a fight, and Isaacson broke she
coat hanger and banged the Ger era
ms over the head till the police came o. -
en- he sneaked up stairway to
who helped him through window
| he ran down dark alley to the I
Dor and hid in barge. OF
Everything stood out clearly in his
mory; all too clearly, he thought,
these were but sinful recollections II
a ha dopa nothing ooOd in his life