His wife sent a boy this morning to say, his father was in a high fever and could not get out; so I'm here instead."
The next morning the same man came again.
"How is Sam?" enquired the Governor, "He's gone," said the man.
"What? Gone! you don't mean to say he's dead?"
"Just snuffed out," said the other; "he died at four o'clock this morning; all yesterday he was raving—raving about Skinner, and having no Sundays. 'I never had a Sunday's rest,' these were his last words."
No one spoke for awhile, and then the Governor said, "I tell you what, mates, this is a warning for us."