"'Never be a doctor, Charley.'
"'I wont, my dear boy; but what is the matter?'
"Why nothing—just nothing!' beginning to laugh. 'I galloped two miles like a race-rider, and ran into the house, expecting a scene of distress—perhaps of death. 'Mrs. Jeemes' was sitting up, rocking herself back and forth. I felt her pulse and inquired her symptoms.'
"'You see,' stuttered Stiger, 'she's been sort o' poorly and droopy for three weeks, and better. I've been 'lotting to go for you, but thought maybe she mought be able to pick up after awhile. To-night I was so hungry myself that I didn't notice her at supper. She was mighty poking all the evenin', and jest now, she waked me. 'Jeemes,' says she, 'when folks' appetites gives out, they dies—don't they?'
"'Yes, honey,' says I.
"'Then farewell,' says she; 'I'm a-goin'. I wouldn't say nothin' about it at first, but I couldn't die without tellin' you I was a-departin'.'
"'O, Susan!' says I; 'how come you to think you are dyin'.
"'Jeemes,' says she, solemn as could be; 'I couldn't eat no supper, 'cept one herring and a pone of bread, and one cup of coffee.'
"'Doctor! you think she'll live 'till day? Oh! if I had a-gone for you three weeks ago!'"[1]
[1] Fact.