of sleep or life came from Andrew. His mother
ran to his side, and grasped his arm: there was no sound, no motion. She
raised his head with one hand, while at the same time she glanced at an
open letter, on which a few lines were scrawled in a large, hurried
hand. Every word and letter seemed to dilate before her eyes, as in a
brief instant of time she read the following:

"Mother, I have taken poison. I have sold my body to a doctor for
dissection; the money I gave you is part of the price. You have
upbraided me for never making money: I have sold all I possess--my
body--and given you money. You have told me of the stain on my birth; I
can not live and write after that; all the poetical fame in this world
would not wash away such a stain. Your bitter words, my bitter fate, I
can bear no longer; I go to the other world; God will pardon me. Yes,
yes, from the bright moon and stars this night, there came down a voice,
saying, God would take me up to happiness amid his own bright worlds.
Give my body to the men who are waiting for it, and so let every trace
of Andrew Carson vanish from your earth."

With a lightning rapidity Mrs. Carson scanned each word; and not until
she had read it all, did a scream of prolonged and utter agony, such as
is rarely heard even in this world of grief burst from her lips; and
with a gesture of frenzied violence she flung the money she had kept
closely grasped in her hand at the men. One of them stooped to gather it
up, and the other ran toward Andrew, and raised his inanimate body a
little from its recumbent position. He was quite dead, however; a
bottle, marked "Prussic Acid," was in his hand. The two men, having
recovered the money, hurried away, telling Mrs. Carson they would send
immediate medical aid, to see if any thing could be done for the
unfortunate young man. Mrs. Carson did not hear them; a frenzied
paroxysm seized her, and she lay on the floor screaming in the wild
tones of madness, and utterly incapable of any exertion. She saw the
money she had received with such rapture carried away from before her
eyes, but she felt nothing: money had become terrible to her at last.

Her cries attracted a watchman from the street. A doctor was soon on the
spot; but Andrew Carson was no more connected with flesh, and blood, and
human life; he was away beyond recall, in the spirit-world.

An inquest was held on the body, and a verdict of temporary insanity
returned, as is usual in such case