CHAPTER XIX.

“Monday had come and gone, and Harry was on his way to California. Viola was quite ill, Lottie in distress, and my mind by no means free of trouble.

“‘Here we come, Eddie, my boy,’ said Doctor Dodson, as he came bustling into the drug-store one morning soon after breakfast. ‘Ah, ha! my boy, things are all wrong, all wrong, sir. That’s always the case; one thing goes wrong, everything must follow suit, you know--ah, ha! don’t you see how it is, my boy? Miss Bramlett, poor thing, very ill--threatened with brain fever--killing herself with grief about Wallingford--Lottie wearing herself out with continual watching--breaking her heart about other people’s troubles--don’t sleep enough--eats not enough to support life in a snow-bird. Ah, ha! my boy, don’t you see how it is? Then, to cap the climax of errors, here’s Dabbs and Tadpoddle nosing round and stirring up slander, and those two hateful old maids are retailing it out where they think it will do the most harm. Ah, ha! my boy, do you know those two detestable old hags? No, of course you don’t; I allude to Miss Jemima Tadpoddle and Jerusha Clattermouth. Ah, ha! Eddie, my boy, old Nick ought to have them both. Clatter, clatter go their tongues all day, slandering everybody and everything. They both have been to the jail, pretending to feel an interest in Miss Bramlett, and they have well-nigh killed the poor girl with their infernal tongues. Ah, ha! Eddie, my boy, don’t you see how it is? I wish their tongues were cut out and nailed on the jail door, as a warning to meddlesome gossips--that’s what I wish. Ah, ha! Eddie, my boy, Miss Tadpoddle is