To those friends he ran gladly at every opportunity. But after years
of suffering from overwork and illness his feeble health failed, and
he told his Scotch friends one day that he was not able to work any
more or do anything that his brother wanted him to do, that he was
tired of life, and that he had come to thank them for their kindness
and to bid them good-bye, for he was going to drown himself in Muir's
lake. "Oh, Charlie! Charlie!" they cried, "you mustn't talk that way.
Cheer up! You will soon be stronger. We all love you. Cheer up! Cheer
up! And always come here whenever you need anything."
"Oh, no! my friends," he pathetically replied, "I know you love me,
but I can't cheer up any more. My heart's gone, and I want to die."
Next day, when Mr. Anderson, a carpenter whose house was on the west
shore of our lake, was going to a spring he saw a man wade out through
the rushes and lily-pads and throw himself forward into deep water.
This was poor Charlie. Fortunately, Mr. Anderson had a skiff close by,
and as the distance was not great he reached the broken-hearted
imbecile in time to save his life, and after trying to cheer him took
him home to his brother.
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