story, or if it was only the creation of his own diseased
mind, I said, merely to see what he would say next,
“What caused your wife to drown herself; was
she crazy too?” “Oh no,” replied
he, “she was not crazy, but she was worse than
that; for she was jealous of me, although I am sure
she had no cause.” The idea of any one being
jealous of the being before me was so ridiculous that
it was with the utmost difficulty that I refrained
from laughter; but, fearing to offend the crazy man,
I maintained my gravity by a strong effort. When
he had finished the story of his misfortunes, he came
close to me and said, in slow measured tones:
“And now do you think it any wonder that I went
raving distracted crazy?” “Indeed I do
not,” said I; “many a one has gone crazy
for less cause.” Thinking he might be hungry,
I told him I would direct him to a farm-house, where
he would be sure to obtain his supper. “No,”
replied he, “this is not one of my hungry days;
I find so many who will give me nothing to eat that
when I get the offer of a meal I always eat whether
I am hungry or not, and I have been in luck to-day,
for I have eaten five meals since morning; and now
I must lose no more time, for I have important business
with the Governor of Canada and must reach Quebec
to-morrow.” I regarded the poor crazy being
with a feeling of pity, as he walked wearily onward,
and even the high-heeled boot did not conceal a painful
limp in his gait. But I had not seen the last
of him yet. Some six months after, as I was visiting
a friend who lived several miles distant, who should
walk in, about eight o’clock in the evening,
but the “unfortunate man.” There had
been a slight shower of rain, but not enough to account
for the drenched state of his clothing. “How
did you get so wet?” enquired Mr. ——.
“O,” replied he, “I was crossing
a brook upon a log, and I slipped off into the water;
and it rained on me at the same time, and between
the two, I got a pretty smart ducking.”
They brought him some dry clothing, and dried his wet
garments by the kitchen fire, and kindly allowed him
to remain for the night. For several years, this
man passed through S. as often as two or three times
during each year. He became so well known in the
vicinity, that any one freely gave him a meal or a
night’s lodging as often as he sought it.
Every time he came along his mind was occupied by some
new fancy, which seemed to him to be of the utmost
importance, and to require prompt attention.
He arrived in S. one bitter cold night in the depth
of winter, and remained for the night with a family
who had ever treated him kindly, and with whom he
had often lodged before. He set out early the
next morning to proceed (as he said) on his way to
Nova Scotia. Years have passed away; but the
“unfortunate man” has never since been
seen in the vicinity. It was feared by some that
he had perished in the snow; as there were some very
severe storms soon after he left S.; but nothing was
ever learned to confirm the suspicion. According
to his own statement he belonged to the state of Vermont,
but, from his speech, he was evidently not an American.
Several years have passed away since his last visit
to S., and it is more than probable that he is no longer
among the living.