Days of suffering; nights of dread. Everything had been done and the doctor had gone home. A heart-broken woman buried her face in the bedclothes. The proprietor's wife, with tears streaming down her face, stood looking upon a wasted face which had, only a short time before, beamed with mischief. "Little boy," she said, "dear little fellow, you are going to leave us. You are going to heaven." "No," he faintly replied, "I will be in the way, and they won't let me laugh there." A long silence followed, and then the old woman whispered: "He is gone." A man with heavy boots walked on the carpet in the hall. A BRIDEGROOM. One hot afternoon a tramp printer entered the office of the Franklin (Ky.) _Patriot_. The regular corps of compositors were sufficient to do all necessary work, but the boys were lazy and wanted to go fishing, so the tramp was given temporary employment. When the boys returned next day they were surprised, and not a little ashamed, to see that the tramp had "set up" the entire paper--work which would have taken the entire force several days to perform. When the proof-sheets were brought in, they were found to be so clean that the editor of the _Patriot_ sent for the tramp. "What is your name?" the editor asked. "Oscar Howell." "Where are you from?" Mr. Howell waived his hand around in a complete circle. "What does that mean?" "Means that I am from everywhere." "Do you want work?" "That's the reason I came here." "I mean regular work." "Yes; but I don't want to throw anybody out of a job." "Glad you are so honorable; but those boys out there are my sons and I am thinking of sending them to school." "All right, then, I will take their place." "Do you drink?" "I wound up the ball of an extended spree the other day, but I am not going to drink any more." "I hope your resolution may hold out." "I will give it many a half-soling." "Well, you may begin regular work to-morrow morning." "All right, sir." Within two months from that time Mr. Howell was one of the best dressed men in the town. People who had commented on his shabby appearance now called him handsome. He joined the Good Templars' lodge and mingled in the society of the tittering maidens of the village. Doctors and lawyers sought his company. He had brought a literary freshness to the town. His jokes were new; his courtesy marked. One year passed away. Mr. Howell was engaged to marry the handsomest and most intelligent young woman in the town. The girl's father and mother were delighted. Howell was envied by all the young men. The day for the wedding drew near. The "popular and enterprising tailor" had made Howell's wedding suit. One day another tramp entered the office. Howell dropped his "make-up rule" and sprang forward to meet him. "Why, Shorty, how are you?" "Sorter slow," the tramp replied as he placed his elbows on the imposing-stone. "How is it with you?" "Oh, I am flying. Going to get married to-morrow night."