Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (209 page)

"Yes,
Master
Henry,
I'm
nearly
done
now,
and
time,
too,
for
I don't
know
what
they'll
think
about
me
in
the
servants'
'all.
Well, this
business
of
the
scalding
was
some
few
years
before
Mr.
Baxter was
took,
and
he
got
about
again,
and
went
on
just
as
he'd
used.
And one
of
the
last
jobs
he
done
was
finishing
up
them
actual
glasses
what you
took
out
last
night.
You
see
he'd
made
the
body
of
them
some long
time,
and
got
the
pieces
of
glass
for
them,
but
there
was
some-think
wanted
to
finish
'em,
whatever
it
was,
I
don't
know,
but
I picked
up
the
frame
one
day,
and
I
says:
'Mr.
Baxter,
why
don't
you make
a
job
of
this?'
And
he
says,
'Ah,
when
I've
done
that,
you'll
hear news,
you
will:
there's
going
to
be
no
such
pair
of
glasses
as
mine when
they're
filled
and
sealed,'
and
there
he
stopped,
and
I
says: 'Why,
Mr.
Baxter,
you
talk
as
if
they
was
wine
bottles:
filled
and sealed—why,
where's
the
necessity
for
that?'
'Did
I
say
filled
and sealed?'
he
says.
'Oh,
well,
I
was
suiting
my
conversation
to
my
company.'
Well,
then
come
round
this
time
of
year,
and
one
fine
evening, I
was
passing
his
shop
on
my
way
home,
and
he
was
standing
on
the step,
very
pleased
with
hisself,
and
he
says:
'All
right
and
tight
now: my
best
bit
of
work's
finished,
and
I'll
be
out
with
'em
to-morrow.' 'What,
finished
them
glasses?'
I
says.
'Might
I
have
a
look
at
them?' 'No,
no,'
he
says,
'I've
put
'em
to
bed
for
to-night,
and
when
I
do show
'em
you,
you'll
have
to
pay
for
peepin',
so
I
tell
you.'
And
that, gentlemen,
were
the
last
words
I
heard
that
man
say.

"That
were
the
17th
of
June,
and
just
a
week
after,
there
was
a funny
thing
happened,
and
it
was
doo
to
that
as
we
brought
in
'unsound
mind'
at
the
inquest,
for
barring
that,
no
one
as
knew
Baxter
in business
could
anyways
have
laid
that
against
him.
But
George
Williams,
as
lived
in
the
next
house,
and
do
now,
he
was
woke
up
that same
night
with
a
stumbling
and
tumbling
about
in
Mr.
Baxter's premises,
and
he
got
out
o'
bed,
and
went
to
the
front
window
on
the street
to
see
if
there
was
any
rough
customers
about.
And
it
being
a very
light
night,
he
could
make
sure
as
there
was
not.
Then
he
stood and
listened,
and
he
hear
Mr.
Baxter
coming
down
his
front
stair
one step
after
another
very
slow,
and
he
got
the
idear
as
it
was
like
someone
bein'
pushed
or
pulled
down
and
holdin'
on
to
everythin'
he could.
Next
thing
he
hear
the
street
door
come
open,
and
out
come Mr.
Baxter
into
the
street
in
his
day-clothes,
'at
and
all,
with
his
arms straight
down
by
his
sides,
and
talking
to
hisself,
and
shakin'
his
head from
one
side
to
the
other,
and
walking
in
that
peculiar
way
that
he appeared
to
be
going
as
it
were
against
his
own
will.
George
Williams put
up
the
window,
and
hear
him
say:
'O
mercy,
gentlemen!'
and then
he
shut
up
sudden
as
if,
he
said,
someone
clapped
his
hand
over his
mouth,
and
Mr.
Baxter
threw
his
head
back,
and
his
hat
fell
off. And
Williams
see
his
face
looking
something
pitiful,
so
as
he
couldn't keep
from
calling
out
to
him:
'Why,
Mr.
Baxter,
ain't
you
well?'
and he
was
goin'
to
offer
to
fetch
Dr.
Lawrence
to
him,
only
he
heard
the answer:
'
'Tis
best
you
mind
your
own
business.
Put
in
your
head.' But
whether
it
were
Mr.
Baxter
said
it
so
hoarse-like
and
faint,
he never
could
be
sure.
Still
there
weren't
no
one
but
him
in
the
street, and
yet
Williams
was
that
upset
by
the
way
he
spoke
that
he
shrank back
from
the
window
and
went
and
sat
on
the
bed.
And
he
heard Mr.
Baxter's
step
go
on
and
up
the
road,
and
after
a
minute
or
more he
couldn't
help
but
look
out
once
more
and
he
see
him
going
along the
same
curious
way
as
before.
And
one
thing
he
recollected
was
that Mr.
Baxter
never
stopped
to
pick
up
his
'at
when
it
fell
off,
and
yet there
it
was
on
his
head.
Well,
Master
Henry,
that
was
the
last
anybody
see
of
Mr.
Baxter,
leastways
for
a
week