-and I think he will be better in the morning."

Stories of sickness and suffering are painful to read, as the reality
is painful to witness. We will therefore shorten the tale of Mary
Erskine's anxiety and distress, by saying, at once that Albert grew
worse instead of better, every day for a fortnight, and then died.

During his sickness Mrs. Bell spent a great deal of time at Mary
Erskine's house, and other persons, from the village, came every day
to watch with Albert, and to help take care of the children. There was
a young man also, named Thomas, whom Mary Erskine employed to come and
stay there all day, to take the necessary care of the cattle and of
the farm. They made a bed for Thomas in the scaffold in the barn. They
also made up a bed in the stoop, in a corner which they divided off
by means of a curtain. This bed was for the watchers, and for Mary
Erskine herself, when she or they wished to lie down. Mary Erskine
went to it, herself very seldom. She remained at her husband's bedside
almost all the time, day and night. Albert suffered very little
pain, and seemed to sleep most of the time. He revived a little the
afternoon before he died, and appeared as if he were going to be
better. He looked up into Mary Erskine's face and smiled. It was
plain, however, that he was very feeble.

There was nobody but Mrs. Bell in the house, at that time, besides
Mary Erskine and the baby. Bella had gone to Mrs. Bell's house, and
Mary Bell was taking care of her. Albert beckoned his wife to come to
him, and said to her, in a faint and feeble voice, that he wished Mrs.
Bell to write something for him. Mary Erskine immediately brought her
work-table up to the bedside, opened the drawer, took out one of the
sheets of paper and a pen, opened the inkstand, and thus made every
thing ready for writing. Mrs. Bell took her seat by the table in such
a manner that her head was near to Albert's as it lay upon the pillow.

"I am ready now," said Mrs. Bell.

"I bequeath all my property,"--said Albert.

Mrs. Bell wrote these words upon the paper, and then said,

"Well: I have written that."

"To Mary Erskine my wife," said Albert.

"I have written that," said Mrs. Bell, a minute afterwards.

"Now hand it to me to sign," said Albert.

They put the paper upon a book, and raising Albert up in the bed,
they put the pen into his hand. He wrote his name at the bottom of the
writing at the right hand. Then moving his hand to the left,