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"
"My grandmother," said Quincy.
James Sawyer continued: "I took to drink. I abused the woman whose only
fault had been that she had loved me. I neglected to provide for my
family. My wife fell sick, my two little children died, and my wife soon
followed them. I returned from a debauch which had lasted me for about a
month to find that I was alone in the world. I fled from the town where
we had lived, came here and tried to reform. I could not. I fell sick
and they sent me here to the Poorhouse. I have had no ambition to leave.
I knew if I did it would mean the same old life. I am glad you came. I
cannot tell you how glad. I do not wish for any assistance; the town
will care for me as long as I live, which will not be very long; but
your coming enables me to perform an act of justice which otherwise I
could not have done."
"Tell me in what way I can serve you," said Quincy, "and it shall be
done."
"Look outside of the door," said the man, "and see if anybody is
listening."
Quincy opened the door suddenly and the broad face of Mr. Asa Waters
stood revealed.


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