The Elk County Advocate

One of the most interested spectators of the parade when the Boston Tigers passed through New York, a correspondent writes, was a young man under thirty. He has been an ardent military man for a long time, genial, liberal and popular.

Three months ago he was in robust health, and was of a stout, stocky, rugged build, capable of enduring anything. He never knew a day's sickness in his life until within a short time.

He had been a generous liver, and had ample means to gratify his taste. Six months ago his father died, and he took a large business, the fruit of twenty years' industry, and was of indomitable perseverance. The young man threw off the asceticism of his father, and launched out generously.

He was just the young man to have hosts of friends. He treated them like a prince, and entered on what is known as a "fast life."

First his business failed.

Then a blow struck him that crippled his health.

In three months, from a florid, energetic, robust frame, he became a mere skeleton, and now his own mother would not know him.

He is round everywhere among his old haunts and old friends; for his doctors have told him that there is no help for him; that he has just two months to enjoy himself in, to look on the pleasant things of life and be as happy as he may. Then he will lie down to rise not again 'till the heavens be no more.

He talks cheerfully about the matter; counts the days as they run along; and when his young friends are in the midst of their hilarity he points to his attenuated frame and says:

Remember, boys, it was a fast life that did this to me.