The Rambles of an Idler 



but a swig o' rum sort o' sot me up, an' that was 

 the last swig ever passed my mouth. " 



"Passed it outside ?" asked Benjamin, inter- 

 rupting Job for the first time. 



"No, inside, an' here I be, eighty-one an' 

 what the minister calls a livin' monniment to 

 lettin' rum alone. T~~ 



"As I was savin', I was over the wust of it 

 an' sot by the stove to dry off. But I did 

 more'n that. I fell asleep an' slep' an' slep' 

 till it was way on in the nex' day. When I 

 woke I was lyin' on a settee by the stove, an' 

 the fust I said was, ' How's Nance?' 



"The men 'round said no thin' an' a woman 

 was a-cryin'. Says I, 'What is it? You're 

 boun' to tell me.' But they says, 'Keep still, 

 Job, aa' don't let her hear you.' 



"Says I, 'Then she's livin',' an' I sort o' fell 

 asleep ag'in. But not for long. I heered a 

 scream an ' was on my pins in a second. I made 

 for the room she was in, and sech a sight ! She 

 was white as a snowbank an' wild-like 'round 

 the eyes. Says I, 'Nance, be ye right ag'in?' 



"She only says, 'Job,' and fell right back'ard. 

 Then I got settled like an' felt I was Job Still- 

 creep, sound and hearty. I never left Nance 



16 



