MY FRIEND JARVIS.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue 2082, 17 June 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

MY FRIEND JARVIS.

A Bloat told at A* Old Mnnataa. . When 1 was a student of divinity, my obum was Jarvis Blair. Ht was a thin, dark man, with long faatnraa and sunken ayes, active, but silent; that is, as far as chit-chat wont, though there ware timaa whan ha sonld talk long and well. I was fat, short and rosy. 1 liked cheerful aubieoti, and contemplated Heaven with tha eyes of a vivid, yonng imagination.

Jarvis, on ths contrary, ha£ Dante-lika visions o( an Inferno. Ha thought all sorts cl gayeties deadly sins. I thought it a man’s duty to bs cheerful, and regarded the ordinary means of amassment with favor. I could not see why piety should go band in hand with a detestation of tbs good things of this world, while be was always denying and forbidding himself something until his diet got to be vary little more than broad and water, and his bad a stiff mattress, with insufficient covering. “To lie soft" was in his eyes a crime; to find pleasure in the taste of food another; while I mads a point of having all the luxuries I eonld afford. We onght to have detested eaeh other, bat we were great friends. I loved him, and he loved me, with a tenderness onnsual to men, even to brothers; and we quarrelled, or seemed to quarrel, constantly. One great point of dissension was—how strange to remember it now I—the question whether the dead ever returned. I declared that I felt ante they went straight to heaven and stayod there. He averred that he knew they often returned, and pitied ns lor onr troubles, and rejoiced in our happiness. He scarcely discredited any supernatural tale, while I laughed at all I beard. I believed and hoped that departed spirits never lingered on their way. We used to talk about this at night very often, sitting together tor long hours alter we should have been asleep. And once he promised me to prove the truth of this belief by Doming to me it he should die first. As for me, I would make no sueh promise. •• If you are wrong and I am right, I shall not avail myself oi my ptiviligas,” I said. “ If there should be one loving soul to bewail me, I do not wish to sea that being's grief. If none earn, I do not wish to suffer the pangs of mortification.”

So our conversations generally ended until we left college. After that we, of eonrat, aaw less of sach other, and in time we were widely separated. I was married; ha wa* not. However, we oorresponded, and ha laid nothing as to oil health, which made me suppose that

it wu at taut tolerable; bat in on* of them hj« at tut added tha poataeript: " Mr Dm ; Yon mey aea me sooner (ban you think. I intend to visit yon shortly.” I was greatly plaaaad, and to wu my wife, for I bad talked to her of Jarria vary often. In expectation of bis ooraing ana now furnished out span room, and ons day called me to look at it. '‘Do yon think Jarvis will like it 7" aba asked. “ How eonld ha help it?" I answered, kissing her. “ Tonr hospitality is something be will appreciate, yon dear little woman, even ifhe dose not understand the beanty of the bunts, and tha delieuy of the embroidery on the pillow eases." My wits was contented.

However we waited two or three weeks, and heard no more of Jarvis Blair. One Saturday night it occurred to me to add something to my sermon. 1 felt that I had not quite expressed my thought. My wife retired early, and the children were always sale in bald at nine o’clock. I beard old Minty fastening up the shatters, and afterwards creak up the stairs to a little attio bedroom she had, and Sam, her son, with the small boy Bill, were whistling their way to their sleeping-place In the eoaeh-honse. All was very qniet czeapt for an occasional shriek M the train. There wu a station leu than a mils away, and 1 wu writing rapidly when a indden impulse made me turn my bead, and I saw Jarvis Blair standing in the doorway. He had arrived and bean admitted by Jim without my knowledge, I thought; and I was about to rush toward him, but found myself incapable of moving. For his part, I noticed now that ha was oorionsly peie. " James, yon believe it now, don’t you 7” he asked.

" What r I gasped. “ This,” he Mid. "lam not dead yet, but lam going to die. I have slipped oat of tha body. They think me aeleep, bat I can return to it (or a little whiU. I was on my way to •M yon, bat at Richmond I (ell ill. I( yon travel tost yon may reach Richmond before I die.”

Ha waa gone. A honor poeeeeeed me that I never felt baton in all my )i(a, and I rushed away to my room, leaving the eermon on the table, and my lamp atiU burning. In tha morning 1 told my wi(e o( the event.

" I know it waa a night-man, new," I e.tid, " bnt it seemed very real to me."

To my surprise she answered; “ My dear, I think yon must go to Rich' mond at onee.”

"At onee?” I said. " Why, this ia Sunday morning.” “ My dear Jamei," aha eaid, “ Ur. Gamer will preach at aay time for yon.” (Mr. Gamer waa an old olargyman who was too (cable to taka charge .of a ebnnh, bnt who liked to be sailed upon to read a eermon at timei. He waa onr neighbor.) She took oat her watch, called Jim, and ■ant him with a note to the Gamete. An •newer woe returned at ones.

" The thing ie done now,” eke laid. “Go my dear. The train starts in twenty minatee. The carriage ie at the door I’ll gat a lilt from somebody." 11 This ie prepoetetone,” 1 said. ”My dear husband,” aha anewend," Than b no doubt in my mind that yonr dying friend baa called yon." Accordingly, I waa on my way to Biehmond in ball an hoar. I tolt ashamed of myself, bnt, after all, if nothing earns of it, 1 knew the leorst would be between Kitty and myself.

When tha train reached Biehmend, I alighted, and took my way straight to tbo hotel where travellers from the North usually stopped. The elerk was an old acquaintance of mice.

“ How do too do, air 7” ht oallsd to dm. I advanced, and with a curious failing of oartainty that the tsply would ba in tha affirmative, said ; “I am told a friend of mine, Dr. Jarvis Blair, is here. la that ao 7" “ Tea, air," ha answered, gravely: but I am aorry to nr ha ia vary, vary ilk’ 1 “ I should lika to its him,’’ I said. Tha elerk called a waiter, who lad ms along tha halli and op tha stair*, until I washed a certain room, on tha door of which ha rapped softly. A nurse opened the door. To my whispered inquiry, aha replied: * " Going fast." And entering, I saw my old friend once more, lying motionlaaa on his pillow, bis ayaa closed, his face pal* as in my vision of the night before. “H* may not waken again,” said tha nurse; “ bat ws thought him gone last night, and ha rsturnad,” She paused and gave m* a peculiar half-frightened smile. “ It seemed lika a return rather than an awakening," ■he added.

” Perhape it wae,” I said. The tear* AIM my eyas. I took my dear friend's hand and touched my lip* to it. It oloaad on mins, and bis eyes opened. " James,” be said, “ that wife of yours is a good creature. Tell her I am glad aha hurried you, or else I should not have seen you again. God bless yon—and me.”

With these words on hia lipi, be eloicd hi* ayaa again. This time ha never returned. I have bad no more experience* of tha sort; but 1 never scoff at those of others now, however imposaibi* they may saem.