"It's better for him to forget that.

Now you take the best care of him you can to-night.

I don't think he's going to live long; I think you ought to go for the doctor right off." "Oh, he's been like this for the last two weeks; he ain't sick, he's jest old, that's all," replied Bill, brutally.
And the old lady, moving about without passion and without speech, seemed to confirm this; and yet Milton was unable to get the picture of the old man out of his mind.

He went home with a great lump in his throat.
* * * * * The next morning, while they were at breakfast, Bill burst wildly into the room.
"Come over there, all of you; we want you." They all looked up much scared.

"What's the matter, Bill ?" "Daddy's killed himself," said Bill, and turned to rush back, followed by Mr.Jennings and Milton.
While on the way across the field Bill told how it all happened.
"He wouldn't go to bed, the old lady couldn't make him, and when I got up this morning I didn't think nothin' about it.