LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2638, 20 September 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

TWELVE OUNCES OP BLOOD. {Concluded.) ' I am porfestly well now, dootor,' said Jacob, the moment the door opened. ' I am a new man I never felt like this in my life before Why, I could spin like a top, I'm so full of—l don't know what. I'm d—d if I s*op in this bed any longer. Why, I got np and danced last night, and if those men didn't come and put me baok here again. I dismissed them all on the spot. I wish you'd get me my cheque book, dootor, if yon won't let me go and get it, and I'll pay their wages and send them packing this very day, the impudent dogs. Feel my pulse,' he went on, apparently forgetting all about his request; 'why it's beating like 10.000 furies. I tell you, last night I could hear my pulses beating all rvsr my body, quite loud, and I felt the blood rush through my veins like living fira—aba! it ia glorious ! I say, dootor,' more quietly and fixing a look of intense ounnlng sidelong on the doctor's face, 'I say, jast tell me, did yon take enough blood out of that hulking fellow to kill him 1 Tell me—tell me—did you ?' Dr. Featherstone, who was making notes hurriedly, was aroused by the furious peremptoriness of thh Inquiry. ' Oh dear no 1' he said. * Not 1' and Jacob threw up his arms with a wild ceatare, ' then brins; him baok and take mora—l must bave more—more—all th 9 blood out of bis body I must have. Do, dear doctor—go, go and fetoh him. I will make your fortune If you will. And then—then I shall bave my brains, and a'l the strength of that brute's body as well. Make hsste Dr. Fea l ho-stone— I must have ill his blcod 1' ' But I do not know where he is,' said the dootor, quietly. He was writing a preaorlption bending over a small table hear the bed. In almost the same instant that he uttered the words, he experienced a shook, the suddenness of which nearly knocked the breath out of him. Jacob, la a furious paroxysm of insensate rage, had leiped from the bed right upon him, and with all bis might endeavored to strangle him. ' Ln'oklly Jaoob, though filled with a fire that seemed to give him tha strength of a Heroulos, was In reality weak enough, and Dr. Featherstone, when he recovered from. his surprise, found it no very difficult task to disengage the elutoblng fingers that graped him. The frantlo resistance to this utterly exhausted the siok man. and Dr. Featherstone had to lift him bodily into his bed, where he lay with closed eyes like one spent. Just then the attendant entered the room. He saw the position at once. ' H as he been at you, doctor V he asked; 'why, he flew at me several times last night, and he's more like a lnnatio than anything else. If this goes on—and I think it will, for it ain't delirium like I'm used to —you'd better get somebody as unders'auda mad folk to nurse him.' 'Well, well,' said Dr. Featherstone, who was a little put out at having the breath started out of his body and the second half of his prescription bothered out of his brain, 'wait till tomorrow, my good fellow, and see how he gets on. I hope he'll be much better. Only do sea that he fa quiet while I finish this.' Jacob was qnht enough, for he was exhausted. But he recovered only to repeat a similar scene ; and when the doctor had gone, the servants openly called him mad, which infuriated him to such a degrse that they were thoroughly frightened. 'What,' he cried, 'beosuse Im a newmade man, asd my blood bolls in my veins so that I'm driven to danoe for sho; r joy—you letharglo fools that don't krow the meaning of life, you think I'm mad!' He oontinually tried to dress and go out, In search of pleasure ; and they had to lock him in. The doctor, coming in the evening, found the room looked ; tho patient singing and swearing inside, while the attendant sat outside, * jußt to hear If he did any harm to himself.' Dr. Featherstone did not wonder that the man's patience had given way when he went in. It was evident that, at ail events for the time being, Jacob's mind had lost its balance. He sent for the other dootors ; two oame; one, a young doctor of speoulative mind, who had observed Tim's cuddon rage with wonder and interest 'Gentlemen,' said this young man, when they had seen Jaoob; ' you have just put his brother's passion into him; you have made Tim's wish a true one, for the blood, heated with a sanguine man's rage, has become a poison to this differently tempered body.' But the others smiled, ard paid but little attention, while Dr. Featherstone went on with what he had been faying. * Well, gentlemen,' said the young doctor, 'you may laugh at the idea, but I bave known the milk of a mother thrown into violent excitement, poison her bale, and I believe that this oaee is analogous.' ' But,' said Dr. Featherstone, impatiently, ' the man is not dying,' which silenced the young dootcr They decided to obtain an attendant accustomed to the insane to take obarge of him, which was done But Jaoob's shrieks and terrible cursings during the night made it impossible to keep him in a private house. In a few weeks he was sent to a private lunatic asylum. Dr. Featherstone still hoping he would reoover. But the physl al fraTie was entirely unequal to support the freczled life that coursed through itss veins, and the dootor was not surprl'ed to receive an announcement of his death about a fortnight after his removal. The cafe was dryly marked, ' Suocessful for e'ght weeks,' in Dr. Featherstone's note book, and the thing was done with. A short time after he noticed in the daily p»pers advertisements for Jacob's next of kin, Jacob, it appeared, having died lntes (ate, and possessed of considerable property. The doctor, who had had no news of Tim, thought it his duty to put In a brief advertisement which would be more likely to catoh Tim's eye. But neither advertisement had any result and Jacob's ill-gotten wealth went to tha Crown. One day—perhaps about a month after his useless advertisement—the dootor. in passing through the wards of an hospital at which he was a consulting physician, was strnck ry the baok and shoulders of a patient who lay |with his face to the wall. There was something, ha knew not what, familiar in the outline. He besltated, then turned back and looked at the face. It was Tim. Tior>, and seemingly unconscious. Bat when the dootor touched him the man opened his eyes and recognised him. 'Why, Tim,' said the doctor, 'do you know I've been trying to find you ?' * Where's Jacob ?' cried Tim. ' Oh, doctor, why did you give me that money ? Didn't

you know I could never keep from the drlnfcP'

'Well, you must got better, Tim, for Jacob is dead, and there's all your money for yen at last.' . 'Dead!' cried Tim. starting up in bed and then fa'ling suddenly baok; ' has he escaped me f' he exclaimed feebly.^ '.Come, Tim, forget all lhat now,' ssid the doctor. But he ssid no more, for a obange in the man's face showed that he was dying, and in a very few minutes all w--a over. * Well,' be was deterarned to be after Jacob as soon as he could,' said the doctor, grimly, as he turned away. 'i he dootor of the ward stood at his elbow. ' A pity a fine fellow like that should drink himself to death, ho said; ' these men of fine physique so often lack the moral charaoter which would make them valuable.' *True."sald Dr. Feathsrfcfc ae, and walked on In a brown study. WOMAN'S RIGHTS.—A TALE FOR MEN WITH DiUUHTEBS. Whew a man's seventh daughter Is born to him, tho time cjmes for reflecting how he shall provide for his offspring. Mr Harkwell, solioltor, of Wattloport, had to give the matter serious consideration, for h'a income only amounted to £600; but the quest-on did not dismay him, for he debated it with himself from the point of view of his children's interests, and without any reff r enoe to social prejudices. Nineteen fathers out of twenty would have solaced themrelves with the thought that three nut of the seven girls would in all probability get married, and that the other four would find sustenance somehow. One would remain at homo ; another might goout as a governeis ; the third could reside with her married eis>rs, th^fouj ibaoome a companion to ,Aunt Jenny,, aunt Befssie,' o^ 3 tin&e%e?orge. a '"With 'snuff oSlcd • latlons do fathers of large families often dismiss troublesome musings, especially when they are in the prime of life, and have good professional prof poets, as was the case with Mr Harkwell. But this gentleman bethought him thit to { bring up his girls with the notion of being idle ladies and husband hnntrrsies would be to follow a f ooli-h Oriental plan, which it is high time weie uprooted 'from ths manners of England. So he' called his four eldest girls, who wete aged sixteen, fourteen, thirteen, and eleven, respectively, and took counsel with them. It may be as well to state that none of these children promised to be pretty, for neither Mr Harkwell nor his wife were handsome, and the girls took after them. Jenny, the fourth, was the nioest looking of the four, but they were all good girls, fond of one another and of their parents. •My dears,' said Mr Harkwell, 'I have summoned yea that yon may hear an account of my circumstances, and decide for yourselves whether you would like to be put In the way of becoming honorably independent when you grow older. Please Cod, I may live to see you all grown up; but even if my'highest ambitions were realised, and I could leave you eaoh a small competency when I died, I oould never do so much for yon as you may do for yourselves if you try.' The attention of the girls was keenly aroused by this exordium. The etger hopefulness as to the future, which is always so strong in boys but whioh can ssaroely exist in girls, to whom the future is an enigma—a sort of stone wall beyond which they cannot see—kindled in their eyes and showed that all their faculties were qulokened One need not detail the conversation that ensued, but the upshot of it was this—that Mary, the eldest, caught with delight at the idea of becoming a doctor; Florrie, the second, agreed to act as a clerk in her father's office ; Evle, th-« third, was to apply herself Beriously to study, with a view to going to Girton by and by, and obtaining a certificate that should enable her to get a flist-rate situation as a schoolmistress : and, Jenny, the fourth, who had a great tatte for mimicry, playing charades, and so forth, decided that she would like to become an actress. Within a month after these schemes had been formed, Mr Harkwell had taken measures to realise them. Mary and Jenny were sent to London, the one to resi le in a physician's house and commence medical studies ; the other to jive with an actor and his wife, who had undertsken to train her for the stage. Evie went to a school in Paris, and Florae succeeded to a stool in her father's offioe. As Mr Harkwell had laid by a few hundred pounds, he was enabled to make these arrangements without crippling his income. But. as one may suppose, such doings caused no small amount of gossip among the lawyer's friends. At Wattleport, as elsewhere people were very fond of discussing i heir neighbours' affairs in a critical spirit. Mrs Harkwell, who was a pleasant and sensible woman, devoted to her husband, and having every confidence in hit judgment, was obliged to submit to a great many questions uttered with perfidious commiseration. Nobody would take it for granted that in entrusting her daughter Jinny to an aotor and actress she had taken care to select persons of unimpeachable charaoter. Perhaps these good folk did not think that such people were to be found in the profe slon. And then how strange to make a shedootor of 'poor Mary I" Was it really of her own free will that the dear girl was going to attend dissecting rooms and mix with medical students t Nobody would have expeoted such tastes la a girl so quiet and refined. As to Florrie, she was nicely bantered by the girls of her own age. ' Is it really true that your father makes you sit on a high stool ar.d scratch parohment? I suppose the male clerks get up flirtations with you all the while ?' ' I sit in a room by myself/ laughed Florrie, ' and I copy deeds and letters. I think It's very good fun.' ' Lor, what an idea! Why, he'll send you about the town with writs next. Do you get any pay for that drudgery ?' 'Yes, papa has Increased my allowance; he gives me ten shillings a week now.' ' Well'l never ! and I suppo.-e you bave to pay for your dicner out of that? Nevertheless, there were some who thought Florrie a lucky girl to make £26 par annum to buy her own dresses with at fcurteen years of age. If Mr Harkwell had only had chaff to put np with, he would have experienced no great hurt; but he was made to feel that even in such a matter as the education of his own daughters a man cannot pletse himself if he files in the way at social prejudices. The post of clerk of the peace to the borough nnexpsotedly fell vacant j and in the ordinary oourse of things Mr Harkwell wonld have stood a good ohanoe of getting the appointment, (or he was known to be both an able lawyer and an honest man ; but his views upon the bringing up of girls caused prudent magistrates to shake their heads. They smacked of Radicalism end female lights t they evinced an eccentricity of charaoter whioh might prove mischievous la a clerk of petty sessions. So tha appointment was given to a younger man, who was unmarried ; and Mr Harkwell lost the opportunity of addlrg £SOO a year to his income, and of grsatly extending his private praotloe at the same time. • There, see what you have done for yourself, * said one of his friends who really wished him well; ' yourfanoles have thrown away a lot of money whioh you might have saved up for your girls, so as to give them a handsome portlcn apiece when they married, or to leave them comfortably settled when you are gone.' ' That Beems true enough,' confessed Mr Harkwell, and he remained thoughtful for a moment. ' After all, though,' be added, ' you can't judge of a tree when it has only just been planted. It wonld take ce a good deal of saving and I should have to be very successful in speculation to leave eaoh of my jlrla a hundred a-year a-pleoe, besides providing for their mother. I must live another twenty years at least to do that, and a hundred pounds Income Is not much after all, whereas in a few years I hopa to sea my daughter independent, and muoh happier for being so than if they were wholly reliant on ma:' 'Yea,'but there are ether things to eonaider, observed the friend ; ' you have lost caste by what you have done ; you mu< t be aware that a great m»ny ladies who looked upon your daughters as equals could no longer receive thom as such if they became cctr'esses, female olerkß, and all that sort of thing.' (To be continued.)