ture, he says, it never would have happened; but to be treated like a baby or a fool, was enough to put any man past his patience, and drive him to assert his independence even at the sacrifice of his own interest—he forgets how often I had reasoned him 'past his patience' before. He appears to be sensible of his danger; but nothing can induce him to behold it in the proper light. The other night while I was waiting on him, and just as I had brought him a draught to assuage his burning thirst—he observed, with a return of his former sarcastic bitterness,—
"Yes, you're mighty attentive now!—I suppose there's nothing you wouldn't do for me now?"
"You know," said I, a little surprised at his manner, "that I am willing to do anything I can to relieve you."
"Yes, now, my immaculate angel; but when once you have secured your reward, and find yourself safe in Heaven, and me howling in
