Originally serialized in the New York Ledger.
is far past a physician's help."
"Nor am I a priest to hear her confession----"
"Her confession God has already received."
"Well, and I'm not a lawyer to draw up her will."
"No, sir; but you are recently appointed one of the justices of the peace for Alleghany."
"Yes. Well, what of that? That does not comprise the duty of getting up out of my warm bed and going through a snow-storm to see an old woman expire."
"I regret to inconvenience you, sir; but in this instance your duty demands your attendance at the bedside of this dying woman----"
"I tell you I can't go, and I won't! Anything in reason I'll do. Anything I can send she shall have. Here, Wool, look in my breeches pocket and take out my purse and hand it. And then go and wake up Mrs. Condiment, and ask her to fill a large basket full of everything a poor old dying woman might want, and you shall carry it."
"Spare your pains, sir. The poor woman is already past all earthly, selfish wants. She only a