A SURPRISING RECOVERY.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VI, Issue 31, 2 August 1890, Page 8

A SURPRISING RECOVERY.

It was a sad scene. The old man lay on his bed, and by him sat the faithful wife, holding his worn hand in hers and forcing back the tears to greet his wandering look with a smile. She spoke words of comfort and of hope. But he felt the cold hand falling on him, and he turned his weary eyes up to her pale, wan face. ‘Jennie, dear wife, I am going.’ ‘ I >h, no, John not yet—not vet.’ ‘ Yes, dear wife,’ and he closed his eyes ; ‘ the end is near. The world grows dark about me. There is a mist around me gathering thicker and thicker, ami there, as through a cloud, I hear the music of angels—sweet and sad.’ ‘ No, no, John, dear ; that isn’t angels ; that’s the brass band at the corner.’ ‘ What !’ said the dying man. ‘ Have those scroundels dared to come here when they know I'm dying? Give me my bootjack. I'll let ’em see.’ Then, in a towering rage, the old man jumped from his lied, and, before his wife could think, he had opened the window and shied the bootjack at the band. ‘ I’ve hit that fat leader on his nose !’ said he. And he went back to bed and got well.