he old stack of comforters in
the corner, with only a jug of water and some crumbs of bread by his side,
when they found him. He had been so ill when he last crawled up the stairs
that he had forgotten to take the key out of the keyhole, but left it on
the outside, and by that they found him. At the bare suggestion of his
going home, he became so furious that it seemed unsafe to urge it. His
wife and eldest son had stayed there with him now for two days; but he had
grown steadily worse, and it was plain that he must die unless he could be
properly cared for.

"At last I thought of you," said the poor woman. "He's always said so much
about you; and once, when I was riding with him, he pointed you out to me
on the street, and said he, 'That's the very nicest girl in America.' And
he told me about his giving you the clock; and I never knew him give any
thing away before in his whole life. Not but what he has always been very
good to me, in his way. He'd never give me a cent o' money; but he'd
always pay bills,--that is, that was any way reasonable. But I said to
'Siah this morning, 'If there's anybody on earth can coax your father to
let us take him home, it's that Mrs. Philbrick; and I'm going to find
her.' 'Siah didn't want me to. The boys are so ashamed about it; but I
don't see any shame in it. It's just a kind of queer way Mr. Wheeler's
always had; and everybody's got something queer about 'em, first or last;
and this way of Mr. Wheeler's of going off don't hurt anybody but himself.
I got used to 't long ago. Now, won't you come, and try and see if you
can't persuade him? It won't do any harm to try."

"Why, yes, indeed, Mrs. Wheeler, I'll come; but I don't believe I can do
any thing," said Mercy, much touched by the appeal to her. "I have
wondered very much what had become of Mr. Wheeler. I had not seen him for
a long time."

When they went into the garret, the old man was half-lying, half-sitting,
propped on his left elbow. In his right hand he held his cane, with which
he continually tapped the floor, as he poured out a volley of angry
reproaches to his son "'Siah," a young man of eighteen or twenty years
old, who sat on a roll of leather at a safe distance from his father's
lair. As the door opened, and he saw Mercy entering with his wife, the old
man's face underwent the most extraordinary change. Surprise, shame,
perplexity, bravado,--all struggled together there.

"God bless my soul! God bless my soul!" he e