The other day he fell down in a faint in
a saloon on the river road, and when he
was restored to consciousness be startled
the three or four men who had placed him
on tbe bed by exclaiming:
"Boys, I'll be if I ain't going to
die: '
No one had ever stopped to think whether
Incle Heb was ever going to die. It
the general impression among hii acquaint
ances that be would live along for three
or lour hundred years.
"How do yon feel !" they asked.
"Kinder trembly and weak," be replied.
I'll bet fifty cents I'll kick the bucket afore
noon :'
Kiev offered to bring a doctor, but he
said :
"No, don't take any trouble ; 'tend right
to business as usual, and when I kick the
beam plant me quietly and wi hout any
style
The men imagined that it was mere weak.
ness which would soon pass off. and one of
them sat down near him, while the others
retired to go about their business.
"It s tough weather for a funeral : re
marks I Uncle Heb, as the fierce wind howled
around the bouse. "It don't make any
difference how I'm carried up ; I wouldn't
know it if there were sixteen hacks and a
brass band ; just as lief go up alone with
the driver!"
After a pause he smiled blandly and
inquired :
"They'll speak of me as the 'late deceased,
won't they? Yes, of course. I should like
to read tbe papers to-morrow and see what
tbey say of me, but I won't be here, yon
Know."
"Have you any property to dispose of?"
asked the watcher.
