rain, although she knew that she would have nearly a mile to walk after leaving the cars; their report of the case was most unfavorable. On the third day, the Rev. Mr.--, who had. been a most constant and faithful friend to Robinson, in our hospital, went out with me. When we arrived, we found him in a terrible state of excitement; he had been talking, and was now almost shrieking, and dashing himself from side to side. “It's no us6 speaking to him to-day,” said the ward master; “ he don't know anybody.” But once again I tried it, and once again he extended his hand, and repeated my name, and then said, “And Mr., how very kind in him to come!” I sat down by him, and tried to soothe and calm that dreadful restlessness; his mind was too much gone for words, I only gently stroked his brow, and fanned him. “I am out on the water; out on the water!” was his one cry, from a low tone ascending till it amounted almost to a scream. Truly he was “out on the water,” and where was compass or chart for the final voyage? Those words, with the constant repetition of his brother's name, were the last I ever heard him utter. The only moment of calmness I noticed, was when Mr.--knelt at his bedside, and repeated those soul-soothing prayers, from the “Visitation of the sick.” He attempted no conversation, for we well knew Robinson was in no state to bear it. We had felt, from the first, that prayer for him was all that we could offer; not with him, as his intervals of consciousness were merely momentary. His father had not yet arrived, and there appeared little hope that he could now do so in time, as he was very much lower than on m) last visit, and evidently sinking
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