“He’s killed himself,” she cried. “It’s unfort’nate Stiggs done over again there goes another counterpane – God pity his poor mother! – it will be the ruin of my house. Has the poor lad a sister? Where’s that girl? – there, Betty, go to Snarles the Painter, and tell him to paint me a sign, with – “no suicides permitted here, and no smoking in the parlor;” – might as well kill both birds at once.”
