Chapter 27273442

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Chapter NumberV - VI
Chapter Title
Chapter Urlhttp://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article27273442
Full Date1872-11-09
Page Number8
Corrections0
Word Count8800
IllustratedN
Last Corrected0000-00-00
Newspaper TitleThe Queenslander (Brisbane, Qld. : 1866 - 1939)
Trove TitleDr Willoughby: An O'er True Tale
article text

The Storyteller.

DR. WILLOUGHBY.

AN O'ER TRUE TALE.

CHAPTER V.

There are moments in our lives, when such As will not help to lift us, strike us down! When the green bough just bends so near our clutch, When the light rope so easily was thrown,

That they are murderers that beheld us drown. Mrs. Nouoir. "I* ye plaxe, ma'am," said Eatia O'Beilly, patting her head in at the door of the room one morning where Dr. Willoughby with his wife and daughter were eating breakfast, —" if ye plaze, ma'am, there's a by stuck in the windy. An* if yo don't belie?e it," she added, observing the'incredulpas looks of her listeners, 11 ye may jist hear him howlin* yerselres." Bounds of distress, apparently prooeeding from a Tery small voice, at this moment making their way through the open door, seemed to Terify the truth of Katie's statement j and Mrs. Willoughby and Grace hastened to the kitchen, where a strange sight presented itself. A square of glass had for some days been broken from one of the small, old-fashioned windows, Katie resisting Dan's attempt to replace it with entreaties to " lave her a brathinghole," and through this aperture protruded a bullet-shaped head, covered with a shock of fiery-red hair, ?tanding up in all directions from a freckled lace, with a pair of wide blue eyes that were rolling from side to side in an extremity of terror, and an open month, from which issued a dismal wailing. " Mercy on us, what is the child about P" said lira. Willoughby. "Boy, stop crying directly, and take your head from the window." Be obeyed her first command { and, in hit * attempt to further do her bidding, twisted his head frantically from side to side, hi* face grow* ing frightfully red, and his eyes nearly starting from their sookets. "If you plase, ma'am," interposed Katie, " the bys head is shtuok, and the two feet of him jtandin' on me waih-beneh outside the windy; and it's meself has had him by the heels tryin' to pull him out from behind 'fore iyir I called to ye." "Dear, dear," said Mrs. Willoughby, " what an uncomfortable position I There, don't cry, boy; and keep perfectly still, or you'll choke yourself to death. Doctor, how are we to get him out P" "Where a head went in," said the minuter, gravely, " it U but reasonable to conclude it can go out." " She's made it bigger, she has, a-bumpin' of it •gin the side of the winder," said the sufferer, breaking out into fresh wailing at the recital of hit wrongs. " An* lure, ma'am," said Katie, " I jist cuffed the ears of him for blookin' me windy wid hit face, an' me paoebly bakin* me cakes by tiff/fire; and that is all the knookin' he's had from me, ma'am, let alone a scrape or two, mebby, when I had holt of the heels of him outside i an' it's not me will thry agin, if he ?toy there howlin' till next Miohaelmas, ye ongrateful baste 1" "Oh, stop, Katie; and, Doctor, don't stand than twirling your napkin, but contrive some way to get him out. lam sure his head grows bigger every minute. Ob, there oomes Dan j he will help. See here, Dan,—this unfortunate child has put his head through the broken pane, and that cruel Katie has bumped it so, that he •ant get it back again, and it is continually increasing in sue; and I don't see but you will have to out away the window, though however j you are to do it without outting into him, I don't know." At this terrible possibility the boy's wailing resommenoed. " Shut up 1" said Dan, authoritatively. " The aore you yell the bigger you'll swell! That's poetry, aint UP" said Dan, amaied at his own genius. " Miss WiUoughby, don't you fret. I ealouate to git that shaver eout in half a jiffy." He put both hands in his pockets, whistled 11 Bail Columbia," and went outside to survey the situation. "Dan," said Graoe, who had followed him, *' you can push him through easily. His head it the biggest part of him." "Mist Grace," returned Dan, "yea's a still one, but yer deep. That are's a suggestion I'm ••gojn' to follow." " Yes, try it, Dan," said Mrs. Willoughby. "ffo, Katie," to the officious damsel, " we want none of your help. That poor ohild't head it black and blue, I dare say, with the bump* you.have given him." «Scow, Mrs. Willoughby," said Dan, "if yeouil stand inside and catch him when he comet, Til heave ahead j" and a moment after a little limp body advanced slowly into the loom, aad was received with open anna by Mr*. Willoughby, who was anxiously awaiting the arrival. Bst upon hit feet in the middle of the room, the oaute of all this commotion proved to be a anall boy, perhaps eight yean old, ragged and dirty, hit whole appearance indicating poverty and neglect. He rubbed his eyes with his dirty knuaklta, looked ruefully around, and stood motionlaaa. "What it your name, little boy,aad whom do you want to see P" said Grace, kindly. "My name it Bub Davit, and I want to mo the minister," said the child. " And why didn't yoknoak at the door lib a Chrbtianr said Dan. •"Cause," said the boy, looking timidly up in hit deliverer*! face, «'Gaaee I wanted to HmQ the slapjicks. "Mother, the child it hungry," said Grace. "Quick, Katie, bake aomo warm oakoa. You poor little fellow, you shall ameU them, and tatte them too." the eakea ware baking, Mre. Wuleughby mmmcd the boy's head phrenologioalr/. 111 really don't find any bump*," the said. "let, here it quite a large one on thia aide. Keep ttfll, child, I am not going to hurt you. Crraee, run to the medicine closet, aad get the bottlaof Bay rum, and some thiok brown paper." "I aint a-goin' to take it," said Bub Davit. The lady looked at him in astonishment. "Dear me, child," she taid," nobody want* you to take it. lam going to rub a little on the oattido of your head, to take down the swelling and make it £sel cool and good." ' m I (jut a-goin' to take it," repeated the boy. MI promiaed ma I wouldn't. It's natty ate£ It makte pa sick and arose. I aint a-goin' to take it." After thit repeated expression of hit determi nation, the young teetotaller put hit iset close together like an obstinate mule, and looked defiantly in hit tempter's face. "What a singular child I" said Mrs, WQ longhby. "Doctor, do you bear thatP" But the doctor had disappeared. "Well, never mind about it now dear. Bat yomr brtakJatt,

and if your head swells very had, we'll put cold water on it." He needed no second bidding, and Katie's substantid buokwheat cakes disappeared as fast as the could cook them. " It it 'lasses ?" he enquired eagerly, peeping into the syrup-cup. " Yes," sdd Grace; and she poured a bounti ful supply upon his piste. " Oh, my!" and hit greedy eyes told the rest of the itory. When he had eaten till he could eat no more, Grace pursued her enquiries. " Why do you want to see the minister ?" she aaked. "Pa sendt his respects, and he's siok, snd wants the minister ihould come and see him." " I will tell him," aaid Grace; and the visitor departed in a more legitimate manner than he entered, Dan giving it aa hia private opinion that his head was no longer the biggeet part of him, and that a yoke of oxen couldn't pull him through that hole in his present condition. " Tbey muat be miterably poor, father," Grace add, when she reported the child's errand. " The boy ate like one famished, and his clothes were thin and old." " Yet; and that family might be iv as oorn fortable circumstances as any mechanio'i in town, he replied. " Davis ii a good workman, and oan earn his twenty dollars a week when he ia sober; but I' understand he has not done a day's work for a month." " He has been siok, the boy tdd." " Yes, dear; from the effeots of hard drink ing. He is wearing out an iron conititution by thit evil habit. lam glad he has sent for me. He has given me an opportunity to ded foith fully with him, which I shall not be dow to im prove." " Don't he too hard on him doctor," said Mrs. Willoughby. "I am sure he must be miserable enough, lying there so sick and poor, without being leotured. Poor fellow! perhaps he is tetepted beyond his strength, and oan't help drinking." " There speaks the sickly tentimentslism of the day," add Dr. Willoughby. "Why not call things by their right names, my dear P You do aot speak of the profligate or the murderer as a ' poor fellow.' He is a sinner, acknowledged to be suoh, and everywhere in the Bible the drunkard is classed with these. From the time when under the law of Moses he was to be ' stoned with stones till he die,' to the day when Ohritt declared that from within, out of the heart of man, proceed many vile habits which defile the man, drunkennets is distinctly declared to be a tin, and I have no patienoe with the mis taken pity that speaks of the drunkard as un fortunate, as more sinned againit than sinning. He is a tinner—a great sinner in the sight of God—and hie only remedy is in the grace and power of the Goapd." " Dear me, doctor, I am sure I didn't mean to say he wasn't a sinner, only I fdt sorry for him." An hour later, Dr. Willoughby took his gold headed cane, and walked down the street to John Davia' home. A miserable home it was, and a poor wreck of manhood from his bed lifted a haggard, unshaven face, and stretched out a gaunt, shaking hand to welcome the minister. " It's kind of you to come, dr, aad I wouldn't have troubled you if I could have crawled to your door." "I came cheerfully, Davie," add the dootor, but lam sorry to find you to feeble. You hare been very siok." "I came as near goin'," he replied, in his weak, hollow voice," as ever a man did. The doctor says TU never pull through such another spelL" " God is good to you, Davia, ia giving you one more opportunity to repent," said the miniater. " You feel this, I hope. Theee repeated warn ings oannot be in vain. You have made resolu tions, I trust, on this sick-bed, —which came so near being your bed of death,—that you wil 1 never dare to break." He twisted the bed-dothee with his bony fingers. " It makes a man fod aolemn-like," he sdd, "to atand, as I've done for a week past, lookin' death right in the eye. And I ododate to do different, doctor, when I get round again ; and you see that's why I wanted to talk with you, for I've beea thinkin' and my wife's been beggin' of me to quit drinkin', and I told her this mornin', says I, ' Jennie, I'll talk it over with the minister, aad get his mind on the subject.' I'm free to own, dootor, that I haven't done as I ought to of late years. I haven't been to ohurch with my wife, though I promised my old mother on her death-bed that I would; hut I have a great respeot for you, sir, aad I wanted i to consult with you about takin* this importaat step, aad so I made bold to aend my boy round for you." "You did perfectly right, Davis. Let me know how I oan help you." " Wdl, yoa see, sir, I aint quite dear ia my mind about the pledge. There has one aad another been to me along back, askm' me to join; but I dways bluffed 'em off, for, says I, ' I aint a-gotn' to sign away soy liberty. If I want to atop drinkin'l eaa do it without puttin'my aame oa a paper. I guess I know whsn I've had enough,' says I,' and you needn't come to mt with your pledge.' That's the way I talked it, sir. Wdl, a week ago laat Thureday,-I renumber tbe day, for toward night I began to hart tht horrors tht worst way; in fact I see tnakaa ia asy boota that mornin',—there was a fow of us seltia' round ia Briggs' sdoon, aad thia very subject came up. There'd been a ttmperaaee lecture over to Barton, aad crasy Jot waa there, of ooune, aad ho eaase ia to Briggs' to give us a lecture, aad while he waa talk-o*. la cams young Bilsy, the deacon's son, with a total ahetineooe pledge. Aad Briggs, he carted up hiU aad down, for crasy Jot had just beta tayia* some sharp things; aad though bt ; dursa't touch Jot, you know, ho was well riled up. Ht hattt tht deacon, for he's interfered with his bnetness mora thaatnee. Bays Briggs, Tm opposed to totalities, to totd depravity, aad to total abetinenee, aad to all your other totals.' Well, that brought up tht whdo sub ject We had it hot for awhile. Biley talked | strong, and Jot backed him with his queer, crasy I talk. By-and-by aays Briggs, * The minister is j on our side.* * Ne, be aint,' says Joe, as quick ashghtaia*. 'I teU you he is,'says Briggs. 'If ht aint, why don't you bars his name ai tho head of your paper t You can't gat him to sign that pledge. Tht minister's a lamed man,' aays Briggs, aad he's looked into tht subject scieatifi osDy, and he's found out that tht Bible goes square against tcetotalitm.' "Well, young Biley, he never aaid a word, aad I thought he looked rather down ia tho mouth, but crasy Joe took up for you. sir, aad add they was a-slauderin' you; that ypu was a kind num, and a good aaaa, aad tryin* to save tools from destruction, aad was ft likely you'd

be in favor of what turned 'em into hell by thousands P " Well, I sat and listened awhile, and then then tays I, more for the take of eeein* what would come of it than anything else, • I'll tell you what I'll do, Biley,' sayi I; 'if you'll get Dr. Willoughby*! name at the head of that paper, you shall have mine next.' 'Do you mean it?' tays he. -Yes I do,' says I; 'I declare I do, and I aint the man to go back on my word neither.' ' You are safe enough,' sayi Briggs, kind of sneerin' like. 'The minister won't sign; he'i been tried before now.' By this time crazy Joe was all in a twitter. ' 111 go to him,' says he; ' I'll tell him he's wanted in the front ranks; I'll ask him to reach out his band, and save a soul from goin' down to death ;' and so on. You know how Joe tdki, and off he went. Well, we waited a apell, and by-and by he came back, welkin* in slow, with hit eyet on tbe ground. ' What did he lay, Joe ?' saya Briggs. 'Parson Willoughby is in hia study/ aaya Joe. ' Well, won't he atep out to tave a toul from goin' down to hell?' sayt Briggs, quotin' Joe's own words. ' Parson WUloughby's in his study,' aaya Joe, and not another word would he tay. " I'm makin' a long itory of it," sdd the sick man, pauting to rest a moment, " but Fm most through, tir. I gave that promise to young Biley without thinkin' much abont it; but, doctor, it's been on my mind ever sinoe. She says I tdked about it when I waa the craziest. As I tdd before, I aint a man to go back on my word. Dr. Willoughby, if you'll lign the totd abttinence pledge, I will, and, the Lord helpin' me, I'll keep it to the day of my death." More than once during this narrative, slight rustling was heard, and the half-closed door creaked auspiciously. Now it was thrown wide open, and John Davis' wife, her face flushed, ' and tears running down her cheeks, burst into the room. j " God bless you, John! God bless yeu for those words!" she cried, running to the bedside. " We'll be happy yet. Oh, Dr. Willoughby; j he is tared at last! My husband is saved at laeU" Her warm tears rained down on the sick man's hands, whioh the held fait in hers. "Sbe'a just wild over it, doctor," said John Davit. " She thinkt if she onoe gets my name on that paper, it will all be right." He spoke in a tone of apology, but bis hollow eyes gathered moisture as he witnessed his wife's emotion. "It will Oh, it will," she said, eagerly. " This good man will support you, and my God will give you strength, John, to keep it" " I am afrdd you are both putting too much trait in a mere human instrumentality," sdd the minister. " The pledge is very good in its way, and a useful auxiliary. It is a help to many,—no doubt will be to you ; but you must be careful not to give it undue prominence* It is not in societies, or pledges, or ia aay external machinery, that the hope of your cure hes, John Davis. You must go back of all these. If in temperance were merely a bad aocid usage, or a cuttom of ill manners, or anything not directly connected with duty to God, these voluntary human ageades might be sufficient for its con trol, and perhsps itt extirpation; but it is a sin. My dear friend, your only suffioient remedy is that divine one which done can conquer the sin of yonr evil nature. I pray God to make you a Christian, and then you will be safe indeed." "Oh, Dr. Willoughby," said the wife, eagerly, " he'd hare got religion long ago if it hadn't been for drink. In the last ravivd, when so many were brought in, he was wonderfully solemnised. I knew the Spirit was striving with him, though he fought hard against it. I tried to get him to some of the meetings. One spell I thought I should, but he took to drinkin' harder than ever, and drowned all his oonvie* tions. Oh, air, if he'd signed the pledge, he'd have been a Christian long ago. His folks were all professors, and if there ever was a godly woman his mother was one. Yonder's her Bible." The dek man's eyes followed the direction of her hand. " It's mighty queer, doctor," said he, " the fancies tick folks get into their heads. My old mother's body's been in the grave theee ten yean, and her soul in heaven, I know,—for, as my wife says, she was a godly woman,—but I could swear ihe lat there by my bed one whole night sinoe I've been sick, and sang to me just as she used to when I was a baby. Jennie, it was that night they said I'd die if I didn't go to deep; and how was I goin' to sleep with ten thousand devils in tbe room all aptrtin' fire at me, and droppin' lire coals on my head f Well all of a sudden, and right in tht midst of it* who should I see but my old mother in the white cap, with a broad black ribbon over H, ehe dways wore after father died, sitting in her straight-backed rocking-chair, with her knittin' work in her hands. And, doctor, ahe waa sing ing' * Mear.' It made me think of a Sunday mornin' in summer time, and the old meetin' house on the hill* and the bell tollin', and I, a little sharer in my dean white jacket, walkin'by -anther's ride. And I soothed right down. All the dreadful noises, that psstsred ma so, stopped, and I went right to sleep likt a baby. And onoe when I roused up ia tht night aU ef a tremble, because I thought thoee critters wsre back again, there mother sat rockin' away, knittin' her stockin', aad tingin' ' Hear.' Bht sung it all night; and the devil himedf couldn't stand that tune, and he left me in peace. Poor old mother! she's laid awake many a night aud cried, when I was down to tht tavern driakhs* and oarousin'.'* "John, John J" aaid the wifo, " she's loeldn' down from heaven this urinate, waiting to sec alii you'll do; and she'll sing louder than aha ever rang before, and get all the angds tt hdp her, when you put your name to that paper.** « Wdl, wdl, mebbe she will," he ssid. " Doctor, shall I do it *•> "By dl means," aaid the doctor,« aad may your mother's God help you to keep At -row! You must go to Him, my friend. Tost will find your owa strength perfoet weakness ia the hour of trial. Oast yourself upon the heart of lore that will pity and save you 9" * And you'll go with me, doctor t Wa gomg to be a hard pulL They'll aB twit ase with givin up my principles, and signia' away my liberty, and all that; and I aint the aaaa I wae to stand against it Drink has takes all the grit out of me. I haven't aay mora heart thaa a baby. But, Dr. Willoughby, you are a good man aad a strong. Nobody eaa make head against you. What you say is respectable is respectable; aad what you do everybody else auy do. Now, lot aae say when they rua aae, 'Thett'a tht minister,—he used to hurt bio ob ! jeetiooe againat tht pledge, bat he's signed it now. His name's' right alongside ot aunt. Where I stand he stands.' ril be proud to say that, dootor. I*U bt tart Tm right, and TH go ahead."

*" Davis, you need no tuch aupport. Make up you- mind what ia the right thing to do, and, with God's help, irrespective of my course, or Any other man's, go forward and do it Your duty in this matter is not mine, neither is mine yours. What is right for you may be inexpedi ent and even wrong for me." " I don't tee it, doctor. If it's a good thing for me, why isn't it for you ? And if you'll ex cute me, sir, for tpeakin' plainly, it don't aeem to be just right to advise a man to do what you don't practise yourself." " Tbe cases are totally different, Davis. You have made a wrong use of one of the gifts of God, and to-day you are suffering the consequences of your am. You realise yoor danger, and you feel so little confidence in your power to resist temptation, that you believe you are only secure by totally abstaining from al] indulgence in those drinks that have caused your falL Tour safety lies in totd abstinence, and you wish to solemnise tbis obligation by a written pledge. Very well, do it. Next to the higher duty of embracing the Gospel, and thus being saved from thia and every other am, it is the thing for you to do. But, becauae tbia is your duty, it does not follow that it is mine Because totd abstinence it necessary for you, who hare injured yourself by hurtful excess, mast I, who know how to use it with other good gifts of God, in moderation, deprive myself of an inno cent gratification ? Thia very gift is given me to uae, not abuae. 'AU things are yours,' saya the apostle,' the world is yours.' I must prac tice telf-denid, of course. I must keep this appe tite in perfect subjection, saying,' Thus far shdt thou oome, and no further,' making it my slave, and not tuffering it to beoome my master. But I must not be a coward. Because you, and othera like you, have been defeated, wounded, taken captive ia the fight, must I turn and run from the enemy? Do you understand me, Davis?" " I should be a fool if I didn't," he replied. " You mean to say that you are atrong and I am weak. You can be trusted to go free, and I mutt have my hands tied to keep me out of mischief. You may walk in a pleasant path with your head ' up,andlmuit go grordlin'downina ditch. WeU I won't dispute it The Lord knows Fm all you say, and more. I am weak, aad poor, aad miserable, and wicked enough, and despised by dl, and you are rich, and happy, and good, with your praise in everybody's mouth. And you say, because there's all this difference between us, and you are up there aad I down here, that my duty isn't yours, aad how can I expect you to come down to my level ? Well, youTl say it's presumptuous in me, hut it's just what I did expect I thought, leein' as I couldn't come up to your road, mebbe you'd come down to mine. And if you look at it one way, sir, as high as you are, and aa low as I am, we are in aome sort on the same track; for I didn't get to be a drunkard all at once, Dr. Willoughby. What you do now I used to do once. I took a tumbler of whisky on election day, as you take wine at a weddin', or a hot sling when I was goin' out to work in the cold, as you take a little brandy aad water on a stormy night when ! you go out to hold a nieetin'. That's the way I began. I don't suppose you'll ever get a-goin' oa the dowa track as I have; but I'll tell you this. Dr. Willoughby, 'if there wasn't any' moderate drinkers there wouldn't he any drunkards. And now see what a hard spot you put us in. You say only drunkards need to sign the (dodge, and you'd have us put our names down, and proclaim oursdveo by that hard name to aU tbe world. You say, ' Here, you poor, miser able sinners, sign the pledge aad bt saved;' aad you woa't so much as touch us with the tips of your fingers. Do yoa caU that Christian ? Dr. Willoughby, I ask you to do what you ask sse to do. Put your name longnde of mine on that paper. You give up your wine, and I'U give up my whisky. I know Fm a lost maa, body and soul, if I keep on drinkin*. I've heard you say a deal, when I used to go to meetin', about the ' vdue of an immortal soul' Aint my soul worth makia* that little aaerifioe for ? or didn't it oott is much as some others?" A group of little ragged ebildrea were playing ia the next room, aad ia the pause that suc ceeded John Davis' appeal, a sweet, childish voice sang theee words :— " Jesus died for jrou, Jesus died for me: Yes, Jeans died for aU _ua__»_,— Thank God, -_t-_Uon*s free !*» Dr. Willoughby rose sad walked to tht window; then he came and atood by tht aick man's side. " Davis," said ht, «I wiU do anything in my power to help you—l aseaa anything that doee not invdve the giving up of a principle. I wiU aasist you to obtain steady work. I shaU bt glad to give you any pecuniary aid you may aeed. These thildrsß must hart warm dothing. You shall not be left to struggle on aloae, my peer follow. Friends wiU gather round you, whta they see you pursuing a diffsreat coarse. I hop* to sse yoa yet prosperous and happy, with tbe smiling facts of your wifo aad ebildrea gathered about you; aad to hoar you raise a prayer of thanksgiving to Him whoee grace has set you frtt" Ht paased, bat Joha Dark did not speak. " With regard to tbo request yoa so earnestly make, that I would taks tbis pledge with yon, I eaa only soy that 'it ismyearefuUy-atudiedaad Irady-retained religious conviction, that wine and other stimulating drinks, belong to the meats wbieh God hath created, aad which art aottobt revneed,bnt received with thanksgiving; aad I rahw even asore thaa meats the liberty wherewnhChrid hath a-ads aae free.'* There fore I tejeot the abstinence yoke. Anything ia raatoa I wfl-do for yoa, Davis, bat this is a part ef my raligite, aad I eaaatt ia tonaoionco girt it up." Tht sick maa fixed bia eyes statdOy upon Dr. W-_oughby*a foot wbflt ht was speaking. "Do *foa hear that, wifo r said he. -It'a a part ef tho arinislet's retigioa to drink wine! BhaU I be wissr thaa my bettors, or holier thaa tht prophets? Hurrah! Band Tim to fill ap tha black jug. H it's his rahgioa to driak wine, ifs m-oe to drink whisky, aad I wiU drink it till I die!" Jsenit Davis had stood aD this timt by her husband's bedside. Hsr glad look whsa she firat catered the room changed to oae of breath lees anxiety, aa she listened to tht rom.anal inn, turning bar eager foot from one to the other of tha speakers. Whsn aha beard these laat dread ful -word* she tamed tt pale ac death, aad, covering her foot with her apron, burst into aa agoay of weeping. " Davis," said Dr. Willoughby, stonily," yoa i forget yourself. My poor womta, doa't orj ao. Year hasbaad wfll think better of this. He doea aot mean what ht says." "I do mean it," ha aaid," and Tea got yoa ta back aat. Modaratfoal Liberty aad whisky! thafs lbt talk! The parson's principles art

good enough fur me. If I stumble, I'll stumble over him, and, if I go to hen, I'U teU them ail the minister aent me there. Hurrah! Jennie, we'll fill up the black jug!" " Davis," sdd Dr. Willoughby, «I wffl not listen to auch language. I will talk further with you on this aubject when you are in a proper frame of mind." "Any time, doctor; ani we'll fetch out the jug, and bave a drink together." He sdd. this with a laugh that made his faoe fiendish. The weeping wife followed her miniater to the door. "We wffl pray for him," he aaid. " God done can save him. I will ace him agdn." She antwered him aa well aa she oould for her tears. "I thank you, air,—but lam afraid—it wfll do—no good."

C-UPTES VI. CBAZT JOS. j Soke strange commotion Is in his brain : he bites his Up and starts ; Stops on a sadden, looks npon the ground,' Then lays his finger on his temple, straight Springs out into fast gait; then stops again, Strikes his breast hard; and anon he casta His eye -gaiiut the moon; in most strange postores We have aeen him act himself."—Soakip-ajle. Gbaci Wuxoughbt's sewing machine was out of order one day, and, throwing a shawl over her head, ahe ran out to the back yard where Joe Martin, or orazy Joe, as he waa uni veraally called in the village, was helping Dan to split up the great hickory log he had drawn from the woods a few days previous. Dr. Wil* loughby frequently employed this man when there was a press of work; and as he was skilful with toolt, Graoe hoped he might be able to assist her. It was a bright day in early winter. Tht' first snow of the season had fdlen the night' before, and lay upon the ground white and ua. | sullied. The air below was quite still, but the upper branches of the trees thst surrounded her father's houee swayed to and fro, and from the topi of the pines came the pensive music of the winter wind. Joe stood, axe in hand, a rapt expression on his upturned face, talking softly to himself; and Dan, who had also sua* ponded work, was watching bim with a hdf curiout, hdf-eontemptuous expression on his hard, Yankee visage. Neither of the .men noticed tha young girl's approach, aad she stood quietly observing them, before discovering her aelf. " There's a sound of going ia the tops of the mulberry trace," said crazy Joe, aad it's like sa army preparing for battle." " Them aint mulberry trees," sdd Dan Taylor, following the direction of Joe's eyea; " theme young maplea. What are yer tdkin' 'bout i Martin ? There aint a mulberry tree round here as I know on, nor haint been lines the morus multicaulus speeelation. 'Nuff on 'cm then, more's the pity, an' tome that owned 'em left with heads as cracked as yourn." (This last in a low voice.) "Don't ye know tht difference between a soft maple and a mulberry, Joe?" Joe did not answer him, or appear to "notice tbe interruption, but went on talking; and his voice, dways' muaical, though unpleasantly loud in his excited moods, wat now rery tender and soft in tone. "The four angels stand in the four corners, holding the four winds of heaven," said he; "for my Lord commanded that they shoold not hurt any green thing, neither any tree, but only those men who have not the sed of God in their foreheads." He pat his hand to his head with a troubled look. " The garden of the Lord is full of goodly trees, tbe palm aad the olive tree, the pine tree aad the box together, but in the midst of it, and on the bank of the river, is the tree of life." He began to sing : Oh, ms brother, an you sitting on the tree of lib. To hear when Jordan rolls ? " I can't say as I be, brother," said Dan. " I aint dim* a tree theee ten years. Use to go up wa'nut trees like a chipmonk; and as for hear in' Jordan roll, I don't know as I ker about that kind o* muaie yet awhile. It's a hard road to travel—hey, Joe?" Joe answered him with great solemnity: " If thou hast run with the footmen, and they have wearied thee, how eaaat thou contend with horses ? And if in the land of peace they wearied thee, thea how wilt thoa do ia the swelling of Jordan ?" Then he continued his song: Oh. mj sister, are yoa -ritti** ea tke tree ef Ufa t To hear whsa Jar-** roils ? SoU, Jordan, roll! " Yonder she stands," said Dan, pointing to Grace, whom he had just discovered. Joe turned. " Ah, yes, Miss Grace," said he, with a smile, " you ara on the tree of lifo. Jordan will roll for you. There ie no flamiag sword to keep you away. His mark ia plain enough ia your white forehead.'* Agda be put hia baud to bis brow. "Is your bead toty bad to day t» ahe said, kindly. " There is no change, Miss Chaos. You know there was power given to torment night aad day for a season; but its the tiase that frets me. I think I could bear ft better if I could reckon the time. You know it says, *It waa permitted him to continue forty aad two aaoaihs, aad a tiase and tisaaa, aad tht dividing of a time.' Now, Miss Grace, shall we count from whsa the sagel with the key of tht bottoa-loes pit aad tht great chain loosed the old dragon that was bound for a thousand years; or from when the beast whoee deadly wooed was healed, rose out of tht sea aad put hie mark, or tht number of his aame, in asan's fersheada? Mase Greet, do yoa think it wat theo, aad wby didht pot-syaMrkiaadiffsreat place?" He pointed to the aear upon hia cheek aa ht spoke,—doubt, anxiety, aad patient suffering mirrored ia his foes. " Whatfe the good of botbarin'yer bead -bout it?" said Daa. "Plague take the tiast, aad times, aad dividia' of timee. Aa' I*ll teU yoa what 'tis, Joe Martin, if ysr dou't talk lees aa' work more, thie ere hickory log won't git chopped up 'fore next April. Thea there'll be a' lime.' " j "'Let him that hath tandsratanding,'" said Joe, with great solemnity," • count tbe number of the beast: for it is the number of a man and his number is six hundred threescore and six.' Miss Graoe, when you say your prayers to-night, wodd you mind asking that queetion about tht tims f* "I wiU ask it," she add, "and I wfll ask tht dear Saviour to take away all this trouble and confusion from your mind, and do for you, in His own good time, what He did when He wat here oa earth for a poor man as much worst thaa you are as you csn think." " With.the mark oa bim, Miss Grace?" " With the mark on bias, Jot, so plain aad ao dreadful, that every one waa afraid of him; aad he never could live with hie feUow-mse, but weat wandering night and day in the mouatauat, tcsd aaaoag the teaahe, crying, aad cuttiag hiss-

sdf with stones, and when Jesus met him, d wounded and bleeding, He made him welL" "Made him well," repeated Crazy Joe, his hand seeking his forehead again. "He must have been down in the ' lonesome vdley' that He met him, for you know the hymn says : Down in ths lonesome valley, My Jesus met me there. Oh, I've been there, Miss Graoe, many and many a time; but I never met any Jesus. Yet, you may atk him to do that for me, when the time, and timet, and dividing of timet it ac complished. Ob, if I oould only count up that time!" She hastened to divert hii mind from thii perplexing question by preferring her request, and wat gratified to see how instantly the wandering look left hit face, and was. succeeded by one of grave attention, as the explained what the needed. He trailed when the had finished, made ber two or three of the little fantastic bows peculisr to bim, then drawing from a recess in the wood pile a bundle tied in a silk hand kerchief, he produced the tools he needed, and set himtelf busily to work. Grace noticed, as he untied this bundle, the neatness and order that characterised the man'a peraond habits. Hit knife, chisel, screw-driver, and other simple tools, were in a box by themselves; his artioles for the toilet in another; while a clean white handkerchief, a gay neck-tie, a botom pin, and a bottle of perfumery, explained how he bad gained among the boys of the village the name of " Dandy Joe." While she stood watching his nimble fingers as he shaped the little wedge she needed, Katie called from the kitchen door," Mias Grace, your jintlemaa has come," and her mother met her in thehdL "If s Mr. Landon, dear," she sdd;" if you waat to change your drees, I wiU entertain him tiU you are ready." " Ob, no, mother, my dress ia good enough," the said; and with a quick, light step entered the room where her lover awdted her. Mr. Horace Landon rose deliberately from the arm-chair in which he ,wai seated, when the young girl, her hand extended, and a imile of welcome on her fooe that brought every dimple in play, came forward to meet him. He was a taU man, with glossy black hair and beard, a high, straight forehead, eyes as black as ooal, set deep in his head, and the other features of his face, clear-cut, and good in proportion. But he was not handsome, and Franoes Thayer flattered him when she called him young-looking. There were lines oa his forehead, and about hit eyes that only time can make ; the top of his head was quite hare, and the lower part of hit face, when in repose, dropped like that of an old man. Standing side by side with Grace WUloughby, in her slender, girlish beauty, her fair skin, light hair, and dimples, making her look younger than she redly was; with his wrinkles, his bddneat, aad a certain weary, care worn expreuion that pervaded his whole faoe, he seemed old indeed. " I cdled to give you the fint sleigh-ride of the season," he said whan their greetings were over. "I am going to Barton. WiU you ride with me P" She joyfoUy assented, and a fow moments later he handed her to hor seat io tht cutter, aad with abundant care adjusted the roots to protect her from the oold. Mrs. Wflloughby watched them from the parlor window. " Grata hae decided like a sensible girl," she sdd to her husband. It is a comfort to think that matter is settled. What a position she will occupy! I declare I belive I smeU burnt bread. If that Katie hae spoiled another batch ?" Mr. Landon had taken his statin tht sleigh, end was gathering up the liaes preparatory to starting, when his companion spoke. "Wdt a moment, please," she said. "Joe wishes to apeak with me." Mr. Landon turned, and saw coming toward them, through the yard, a maa with curly gray hair, and an ugly sear on one side of his fact. "It is Joe Martin," she explained; " a poor, half crasy fellow father employs for the sake of keeping bim. He has been doing some work for me this afternoon, aad I suppose wants to show it to me. Well, Joe. Why what is tbe matter with him ?" The maa, who was by this time vsry atar tbem, and with hia axe upon his shoulder, and with oat hand extended, had been making hit curious Uttle bows as he approached, stopped euddenly, the childish expression of pleasure ' on his face changing instantly to oae of extreme terror and distress; than, dropping his axe, he roahed through the opea gate, aad extending both arms, appeared about to saatch the girl from her seat ia the deigh. "Come awayt" he seroamsd. "O, Mias Graoe, come away!" "Stand back, dr," said Landon, sternly t "you alarm the lady. Grace, what does this meant" The aound of hia voice seemed to ia ersase Martia's agitation to ungovernable fury. He trembled dl over. Ht denched his fists, tad stamped oa the ground. The veins oa his forehead swelled almost to bursting, and tht tear oa his ehstk taraiag a livid purple, added greatly to the frightfulaeas of his ap* pcereaee. "LtthprgorbtMNamtd. -* You villain! yoomurdsrsr! Let her go! Then,asLaadoa started the bone, bt sprang forward, aad with almost incredible quickness, seised tht aafaaal by tht head, holding him with oa iron grasp. " Come," taid Horace Laadoa, angrily • « ws have had enough tf thia. Let go my horse's boad, yoa vagabond, ov yow and my whip wfll become bettor aa-pa-ated." Ht -deed the whip, bat Grace caught bis " Stop, Mr. Laadoa," the add,« doat strike bias. Jot, for abaase! What do you maaa t Thie gaatlsmau is aay friend." He tamed hie foet rail ot rorioas eager at tht sound of her voice " Friend r add ht. "Is the wdf a frieod when ht crushes tht lamb ia bis baagry jawsf btfaavuHaraefriondwheahe toast the little tender dove with his talons? Mies Grace! Mist Graos! he's got tht mark of tht oaamt on his forbtad aad ia tht palms of bis bands. Oh, come away!" Ha loosened his bold on tht rain, to stretch a hand imploringly toward hsr, aad Mr. Laadoa, ss-tiag tht opportunity, touched his horse with the whip. Tho frightened ereatare sprang for ward, throwing Martin with oome viokace back upon tho snow. "What aro tht authorities of.your town about,"-.said Mr. Laadoa, "that thsy suffer such a madman to run loots ia tho strteta ?" Grace waa looking back, and did aot boad tht question. " Please drive slower," tht said; " I am afraid ho is tqjursd." He checked the apttd ef hie horse and turned to look. "No, he is aot hart," he said. "See, he is getting up. It would hawetamd him right, if

my hone's hedt had knocked the crasy brains out of hit head. An ugly feUow, who ought to be put behind boltt and ban before he is an hour older." " O Mr. Landon," ihe answered, " you would not say so if you knew poor Joe. He is at simple-hearted and innocent a oreature as ever Uved. West Union people would laugh at you if you should tell them he it daogerout. Ht wat never known to hurt a dumb animd, muoh leu a human being. Wby the little chUdren of the village all love him, and it it no uncommon tight to tee a group of them about him, climb ing hii ihoulden, and searching bia pockets for candy. He is lingularly mild and patient, hopelessly deranged, poor fellow, on religious subjects, but at harmless at possible. I oannot imagine what hat occasioned this outbreak. I have never seen anything like it before." She turned ber head agdn. Crasy Joe had risen and waa itanding motionless ia the middle of the road. Hit gray head wat bare, and both arms were extended towards the rapidly retreat ing sleigh. " Who it he, and where did he come from f" enquired Mr. Landon. "He was born and brought up in Watt Union," she replied. " Hit mother was aa ax* oellent Christian woman, a member of father's churoh. Hie father died when be was very young. Joe was her only child,—a bright, handsome boy, and fond of hie book; and she was very anxiona to give him a liberal education. She interested father about it, and he helped to prepare Joe for college. I wai very young, but I I oan remember a rosy-cheeked, handsome boy, who came to recite Latin two or three times a week. WeU, she found a place in a store in tht dty for him, till the could earn money to stud him to Newhsven. She was a very industrious, smart woman, a tdloress by trade; and father says the worked night and day—in faot, kiUtd herself—for her boy. On her death-bed aba begged father to look after him, and he foith fully promised that be would. And now coast the strange pert of my story. A few mouths after his mother's death, the boy disappeared ttrangely, unaccountably, leaving no due to hit whereabouts. Father was greatly disturbed about it, becauae of bii promise to ihe poor mother. He set tbe polioe to work, and ht ad vertised, but with no tuooeis. And, Mr. Landon, we heard nothing of him from that day, until three or four yean ago, when the poor, gray headed creature, wbo haa jutt acted so strangely, came to our door one winter'• night Fathtr did not recognise him at first, he was bo dread, fully changed, but soon asoertdned that it was poor Joe Martin. He could give no acconnuW^ himself, where he had be*", nr what he bsd suffered; and we soon ceased to trouble him with questions. Father got him into the asylum for the insane, thinking he migbt be cured • but the physician soon pronounoed it a hopeless cri*o ; aud poor Joe, who had probably ltd • wandering life, was so very unhappy in hit ooa* finement that it was thought beat to reltatt him. He lives in a Uttle house by himself on the edge of the vUlage, and earns a Uving by tawing wood mid clearing patha in winter, aad by gardening in summer. Everyone pities him and treats him kindly. Even the boyt of tho village, though they have their jokes with him, are seldom rude. I believe he is truly a Christian. He knows hit Bible dmost by htsrt. He is never absent from church on the Sabbath, aad walks hii mUe-and-a-hdf ths coldest winter nights to attend the weekly prayer-meeting. He tings atrange hymns and longt tbat no oat about here ever heard before. He atteads all the funerdi, and there oan hardly be a town meeting without him. He can preach and pray, to the great edification of the boys; but his forte is temperance. He is a staunch teetttalsr, and gives time, talent and every oent of mtnty he can spare, poor fellow, to help the cause." " What did yoa odl him, Grace ?" "Joe Martin. Have you heard tbo aamt before, Mr. Landon ?" " Thd, or one simUar. A mere ooineidtaet -—nothing more." Then he turned to her amiUag. " Grace, whoa do you mean to drop tho 'Mr.* from my name P Oaa I aot teach yoa to call me Horses?" Mr. London was a good talker. His mini was stored with knowledge, which his fluent tongue was capable of uttering with flowing grace aad doquenee. He had the faculty of introducing old ideas in new shapes, uli-tld^ them ia choice diction, and serving them ap in brilliant style; and for the next two hours ht exerted his eoavsrsatiood talents to the utsaott to oattrtaia the young girl at his dde. Peri-opt ht wiahed to drive from her mind all reooUeotittt of the unpleasant incident at the r—nnsnes ment of their ride. If so, be was vary sueatta ful. She laaghed at his sdlies of wit till tho dimples flashed in aad out of her checks | blushed with innocent pltasurt at his ddlcatt flattery i or listened ia rapt attention, bar blot eyes moist with feeling, to his weU-tfaatd quotations from bar favorite poet. SmUtt and tears came to her at hia bidding,—emilee thai lit ap her foot with aa stsc Thsaging baaass. j aad tears that aofteaed hor eyes, aad addti teederatss to her flexible mouth. "Mother," she said, steading by Mrs. Wl looghby'iohair that night—" mother, I am vary happy." "Yes,dear,-sadwdlyon maybe. Mr.lsm. don it ona of a thousand, so brilliant, an to* oompUahed, aad able to give you every luxury that moasy eaa purehate. You win bava tt good husband, Grace, and," ahe added, tt ha* daughter left tho roo-_w—" mmd suoh m moemliou r fro aa co***uw*-**_n.]

-_..—.... m —... (sjTstlilt sipssisnm of a* shook of eleetrieity by wbioh be wm rw dsred insensible t—"Sometime ago I happtaai te stand ia the praeenoo of a numcroat audi-* tace with a battery of IB largo Ltydsn Jam charged beside me. Through somt atkwarnV aess te my part, I touched a wire loading ttuua the battery, aad the disehargt went through ntj body. Lifo wat abaolatdy blotted out for a rery short interval, without a trace of pain. Ia a seoond or to wmsciousntts returned; I taw ayotlf In tht prsssucs of tht audisnot m*\ apparatus, aad by tht hdp of these external apptaraaets immediately ooodndtd that I had raerived the battery dieehergee The intellectual coneeicttsaees of my position waa rastorad with exceeding rapidity ; hut not so the optical eoa» srionsness. To prevent ths audience from beta* alarmed, I obterved that it had often been my desire to reoeive accidentally aooh a shock, and that my wish had at lsogth been fulfilled. Bat while making this remark, the appearance which my body presented to mysslf was that of a num ber of separate pieoes. The arms, for example, were detached from tbe body, and teemed sus pended in the air. In fact, thought aad tha power of -reasoning appeared to be eompltta long before tho optic nerve was brought to hedthy action. But what I wish chiefly to remark apon here is tbe absolute pemlessnsst of tho shock i aad there cannot be a doubt tbat to a penon struck dead by lightning, tht passage from lifo to death occurs without eonsrioutaett. It it an -Bttant stoppage of seaaatioa."