a doctor! If I were a doctor, now,
the sound of that bell at this hour of night would frighten me; I should
think some old woman had been taken with the pleurisy, and wanted me to
get up and go out in the storm; to turn out of my warm bed to ride ten
miles through the snow to prescribe for her. A doctor never can feel
sure, even in the worst of weathers, of a good night's rest. But, thank
Heaven, I am free from all such annoyances, and if I am sure of anything
in this world it is of my comfortable night's sleep," said Old
Hurricane, as he sipped his punch, smacked his lips and toasted his
feet.

At this moment Wool reappeared.

"Shut the door, you villain! Do you intend to stand there holding it
open on me all night?" vociferated the old man.

Wool hastily closed the offending portals and hurried to his master's
side.

"Well, sir, who was it rung the bell?"

"Please, marster, sir, it wer' de Reverend Mr. Parson Goodwin."

"Goodwin? Been to make a sick-call, I suppose, and got caught in the
snow-storm. I declare it is as bad to be a parson as it is to be a
doctor. Thank the Lord I am not a parson, either; if I were, now, I
might be called away from my cozy armchair and fireside to ride twelve
miles to comfort some old man dying of quinsy. Well, here--help me into
bed, pile on more comforters, tuck me up warm, put a bottle of hot water
at my feet, and then go and attend to the parson," said the old man,
getting up and moving toward his inviting couch.

"Sar! sar! stop, sar, if you please!" cried Wool, going after him.

"Why, what does the old fool mean?" exclaimed Old Hurricane, angrily.

"Sar, de Reverend Mr. Parson Goodwin say how he must see you yourself,
personable, alone!"

"See me, you villain! Didn't you tell him that I had retired?"

"Yes, marse; I tell him how you wer' gone to bed and asleep more'n an
hour ago, and he ordered me to come wake you up, and say how it were a
matter o' life and death!"

"Life and death? What have I to do with life and death? I won't stir! If
the parson wants to see me he will have to come up here and see me in
bed," exclaimed Old Hurricane, suiting the action to the word by jumping
into bed and drawing all the comforters and blankets up around his head
and shoulders.

"Mus' I fetch him reverence up, sar?"

"Yes; I wouldn't get up and go down to see--Washington. Shut the door,
you rascal, or I'll throw the bootjack at your wooden head."

Wool obeyed with alacrity an