“Hush, James,” said his wife. “How can you be so inconsiderate?”
“Who says I am going to die?” asked Jerry, terrified.
“I hope you will live a good while yet,” said Ellen Barclay, soothingly. “I will take every care of you.”
“I’m not such an old man,” interrupted Jerry. “I ought to live a—a long time.”
“Come, dad, you’re unreasonable,” said James, coarsely. “You’re seventy, if you’re a day. You don’t want to live forever, do you?”
“My own son wants me to die,” moaned Jerry.
“Well, you’ve had your share of life. Ain’t you goin’ to give me a chance?”
“Why will you talk in this way, James?” expostulated his wife, as the old man gave a cry and buried his face in the bed clothes.
“How have I been talking? It’s the truth, ain’t it?”