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"Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. I wrote three letters yesterday and tore them up. It has been a big night. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. The four tourists contributed varied sums: the spinsters ten cents each, the girl a shilling, the young man a Mexican dollar. . As the body was borne to the house in the arms of the farming-men, Mr.
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