And into an alms-house poor Hugh Clifford went, but not until he had wandered through the little town three or four times, leaning upon his curious crooked stick, and looking as if unconscious of the crowd of tearful poor men and women that followed him. At first, the parish overseers waited, in the expectation that, as a matter of course, either the parson or some of the "better sort of people" would invite the "beggared gentleman" into their houses; but when it was seen that no such invitation was given, while, all the time, the poor fallen man was wandering in the street with derangement manifest in his looks, the puzzled overseers laid their heads together, and agreed that one of the alms-houses should be apportioned for Mr. Clifford's home, and that an old deaf female pauper should be put under the same roof to wait upon him. For many days the poor victim to his own goodness was silent and helpless, and, by order of the parish surgeon, was disturbed, on the rugged bed where he lay, no oftener than was necessary to arouse him in order that he might be fed; for his mental powers seemed to have undergone so complete a paralysis as to render him insensible to the calls of nature. After the lapse of some weeks, during the latter half of which he seemed to be absorbed in abstract devotion, poor Hugh Clifford's mind rallied. And now the meekness with which he bore his adversity was equally remarkable with the perfectness of that pity he had evermore displayed for the wretched during the term of his prosperity. He accepted the smallest act of kindness with gratitude; and the poor deaf old female pauper never knew what it was to hear him utter a word of complaint. The remnant of his life may be summed up in a few lines. All who had the means of ameliorating his lot neglected him; and all who wished for the means, and had hearts to have used them in his relief, lacked them. He lived years in his beggared condition, and died calmly and quietly, complaining of nothing in the world, nor of the world itself, and leaving but one request,—that his curious crooked stick might be placed by his right side, in his coffin, and buried with him! The deaf old female pauper who had waited on him did not fail to communicate this strange request to the parish overseers when they came to look at Hugh Clifford's corpse, prior to giving orders for his burial. It may be guessed that the singular request gave rise to much wonder and some enquiry. But the old female could only answer that the good gentleman would often place his odd-looking walking-stick in the corner, and sit on his bedside looking very intently upon it; and that often he would turn the other side of it to the wall, and then sit and look at it again; and several times she had seen him take a little note-book from his coat pocket, at the breast, and write in it, looking, ever and anon, at the curious crooked stick.