Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1874-06-11

Tor him? was the question IN his MIND.
"And now what?" asked the doctor.
when he was alone with Mary.
@ We shall see," was her answer.
Fred Seward went to his room at the
hotel and asked himself the same cues
ton the doctor had spoken, "And now
what?''
He had been told that his life was of
no use to any one, and that he amounted
| to no more than a straw carried on a
breeze. Was il so? He began to think
out the question. Was his life worth
farthing to any living person up to this
time? No, it was not. What had he TO
show for these twenty-five years? A lit.
tie smattering of knowledge; nothing
else. Was any one better because he had
| lived? No. He could not recall an in
stance where he had ever been of helm TO
anv one. Surprising he should lose his
fortune to-day, what could he do? Moth
ing.
He did not spare himself in his cross
examination, nor did he hesitate about
calling things by their right names. No
wonder DR.. Burgess had declined him
for husband for his neiGe. But what
should he do? All! that was difficult
question to answer A lawyer? No. he
had no taste for the law. The church,
No, no; he was unworthy so high a call
ing. A doctor? Why not? Yes, why
not doctor?
There was quite sensation among the
lOungers in Swampscott when it was
found that Fred Seward had left them for
that season. And the sensation was still
farther increased when they heard he was
studying medicine with Dr. Sweet, of
Boston. If DR.. Burgess heard the story
he never mentioned the matter to his
niece, nor was Fred's name ever spoken
between them.
Three wears rolled round without
change to Mary Ellison, except that she
grew more beautiful with each new year.
Her uncle had moved to Boston, and she
was among the most admired of the bellies
of society. Yet admiration and flattery
seemed to have no power over her, and
she was as often to be met with at the
bedside of the sick and in the houses of
the poor as in the brighter halls Of luxury
and extravaganza.
And there was enough that one could
do, if she was but willing. Thousands Of
poor people had seen their little all swal-
lowed up in the great flames, and needed
all the encouragement and help they could
obtain. But Mary Ellison was a rare
missionary. She was among the poor and
the helpless because her heart was tender
with pity for them, and not that she might
hear men sound her praises.
"Anything | can do for you to-day,
uncle9" she asked, as she started on one
Of her morning rounds.
Nothing, my dear; but don't be gone
long"
81 wish l knew what was best to do"
IL l.
She had gone. Had [ better tell her, or
let things take their own course? The
fellow is in earnest, and is as proud as
Lucifer What shall I do?" And again
ne drew letter from his pocket, as if all
his trouble was in that. 1t was the first
communication he had ever had from
Fred Seward. Here it is:
DIR. BURGEss-Dear Sir: When left Swamp
scott, three years ago. it with the determine
ton of making myself of some practical use In
the world, and of removing the charges that l
felt you so justly made against me. | was anx-
iOus 10 do this not only for myself, after had
been made to see how frivolous my life was, but
also that might gain the respect of your niece,
and with the intention of again asking her to be-
come my wife. l have been studying in the office
of old school-mate of yours, Dr. Sweet, and
have enjoyed my life much more than had ever
thought it possible. My purpose in now writing
to youis to say that when last saw Miss Ellison
said to her l should renew my proposal. Since
that time circumstances have arisen which compel
me to say to you that | cannot renew those pro-
posals nor can | aspire to Miss Elson's hand. OF
course you will do with this as you may think
best, but should be glad if you could keep the
matter in your own hands.
With great respect,
FRED K. SEWARD.
The doctor studied and worried over
| the matter the rest of the day, and
then had not decided upon what he
ought TO do. But things ofte happen in
this world that are not planned out be-
forehand by us. While he was worrying
over the letter Mary was carrying happi-
ness into a score of homes and spread
ing her own sunshine among hearts that
had little else than Clouds
Among her people was a widow who
had but one child, a boy old enough to
| earn few pennies selling papers. She
stopped at her door, and was met by the
mother in tears. Her boy had been run
over by the street-cars, and his life was
IN great danger Had they a doctor?
ION, yes, ma'am; the lame doctor"
Mary had frequently, of late, heard OF
the lame doctor, but had never seen him.
When was he here?" she asked.
lie is here now, ma'am."
AT first she thought she would not go
IN until after the doctor had gone, but she
wanted to ask him what could be done;
so she followed the woman into the
room.
90 Doctor!" cried the mother, here
is our best friend"
Mary turned to the man standing by the
bedside, and found the lame doctor to be
Fred Seward
He reached out his hand and greeted
her with his pleasantest smile, saying:
We need no introduction, Miss Eli
SON."
She gave him her hand, but could
hardly speak with surprise.
And are You the lame doctor?" she
asked, after the first greeting.
" am, he answered, at the same time
pointing to his crutch lying beside him.
We l'ver heard of it." she said. " How
did it happen?"
Building fell at the fire, and rolled a
heavy stone on my foot"
Yes, miss" broke in the widow; but
he doesn't tell how it was -"
"Oh, never mind that" said he, Impa
tentiy; " it will have no interest for Miss
Ellison"
You cannot mean that" she said.
8 He was trying to save my sisters
baby" continued the widow, land help
the poor folks, when the stone fell on
him"
And you live heres" she asked.
In the city; yes"
My uncle has also removed here"
| heard of it." he replied.
What have we done that you should
not call on us?" she asked, smiling.
Il go nowhere on crutches," he
answered, modify.