ffering from overwork and illness his feeble health failed, and
he told his Scotch friends one day that he was not able to work any
more or do anything that his brother wanted him to do, that he was
tired of life, and that he had come to thank them for their kindness
and to bid them good-bye, for he was going to drown himself in Muir's
lake. "Oh, Charlie! Charlie!" they cried, "you mustn't talk that way.
Cheer up! You will soon be stronger. We all love you. Cheer up! Cheer
up! And always come here whenever you need anything."

"Oh, no! my friends," he pathetically replied, "I know you love me,
but I can't cheer up any more. My heart's gone, and I want to die."

Next day, when Mr. Anderson, a carpenter whose house was on the west
shore of our lake, was going to a spring he saw a man wade out through
the rushes and lily-pads and throw himself forward into deep water.
This was poor Charlie. Fortunately, Mr. Anderson had a skiff close by,
and as the distance was not great he reached the broken-hearted
imbecile in time to save his life, and after trying to cheer him took
him home to his brother. But even this terrible proof of despair
failed to soften his brother. He seemed to regard the attempt at
suicide simply as a crime calculated to bring harm to religion. Though
snatched from the lake to his bed, poor Charlie lived only a few days
longer. A physician who was called when his health first became
seriously impaired reported that he was suffering from Bright's
disease. After all was over, the stoical brother walked over to the
neighbor who had saved Charlie from drowning, and, after talking on
ordinary affairs, crops, the weather, etc., said in a careless tone:
"I have a little job of carpenter work for you, Mr. Anderson." "What
is it, Mr. ----?" "I want you to make a coffin." "A coffin!" said the
startled carpenter. "Who is dead?" "Charlie," he coolly replied. All
the neighbors were in tears over the poor child man's fate. But,
strange to say, the brother who had faithfully cared for him
controlled and concealed all his natural affection as incompatible
with sound faith.

The mixed lot of settlers around us offered a favorable field for
observation of the different kinds of people of our own race. We were
swift to note the way they behaved, the differences in their religion
and morals, and in their ways of drawing a living from the same kind
of soil under the same general conditions; how they protected
themselves from