ts through which
he gazed magnified the objects gazed upon, and he peered about him now
with profoundest solicitude. This was Watt Brooks, a mechanic, and
hanger-on about the mills, where he did an occasional bit of odd work,
and employed the balance of his time in gossiping among the women, or
lounging at the drinking saloons, talking a great deal about the wrongs
of the working classes, and winning to himself some friends from a
certain turbulent class who listened admiringly to his loud, communistic
oratory.

Brooks had not been long in W----, but he had made rapid headway among
that class who, having little or nothing to love or to fear, are not
slow to relieve the monotony of very bare existence by appropriating to
themselves the friendship of every hail fellow whom chance throws in
their way.

Accordingly Brooks had become a sort of oracle among the dwellers in
"Mill avenue," as the street was facetiously called, and he was ready
for any dish of gossip, not infrequently making himself conspicuous as a
teller of news; he was faithful in gathering up and retailing small
items among such ladies of the "avenue" as, being exempted from mill
work because of family cares, had time and inclination, and this latter
was seldom lacking, to chatter with him about the latest mishap, or the
one that was bound to occur soon.

Prominent among the gossips of Mill avenue was that much abused matron
Mrs. John Burrill number one, and she had not been slow to discover the
advantages of possessing such an acquaintance as Mr. Brooks; accordingly
they gravitated toward each other by mutual attraction, and it was quite
a common thing for Brooks to drop in and pass an evening hour in the
society of Mrs. Burrill, sometimes even taking a cup of tea at the table
of the lone woman on a Sunday afternoon.

As Doctor Heath laid his case upon the small pine table, and prepared to
deal out a soothing lotion for the bruised Mrs. Burrill, Brooks advanced
courageously, supported on either hand by an anxious old lady, and the
chorus commenced.

"It warn't _us_ as scared him out, sir," said Brooks, positively. "He's
seen all o' us, first and last. Maybe as he's had cause for remembering
_you_, sir?" and Brooks peered anxiously at the doctor, as if hoping for
a prompt confirmation of this shrewd guess.

"Sure, an' it was a guilty conscience, if ever I seen one, as made the
brute beast run like that, from the sight of the doctor," chimed in
first