The Stark County Democrat. [volume] (Canton, Ohio) 1833-1912, 1877-12-06

teeth are 30 nrmly ClehCneu bnhI Can
not.
Best get her home as quickly as may
be, sir the mistress will know better
what to do for her nor we, If 30 be thu
poor creature is not past help says Johr
turning instinctively, as we al do in sick
ness or trouble, to woman's aid
SO we improVise sort of hammock o
the blankets, and gently and tenderly tht
men prepare to carry their poor, helpless
burden over the snow.
L am afraid your mistress will be II
bed,' l say, as we begin to retrace oul
steps.
Never fear, sir says Donald with
triumphant glance at John; the mistress
will be up and waitin' for us. She kent
Laddie didna bring us out in the snaW
for naething.'
Tll never say naught about believing
a dawg again. says John, gracefully stri,
king his colors. You was right and
was wrong, and that's all about it; but tc
think there should be such sense in an
animal passes mel
AS we reach the avenue gate | dispatch
one of the men for the doctor, who fortu.
nately lives within a stones throw of US
and hurry on myself to prepare my vile
for what is coming, She runs out into
the hall to meet me. 'WellP' she eagerly
asked.
We have found poor old woman
say; but do not know whether she is
dead or alive.
My wife throws her arms around me
and gives me great hug
You will find dry things and jug OF
hot toddy in your dressing room, dear,
she says and this is all the revenge she
takes on me for my skeptcism. The
poor old woman is carried up stairs and
placed in warm bath under my wife's
direction; and before the doctor arrives
she has shown some faint symptoms of
life; so my wife sends me word. Doctor
Bruce shakes his head when he sees her
Poor old soul" he says; how came she
out on the moor such fearful night? |
doubt she has received a shock, which
at her age she will not easily get over
They manage, however, to force few
spoonsful of hot brandy and water down
her throat; and presently faint color
fliCkers on her cheek, and the poor old
eyelids begin to tremble. My wife raises
her head and makes her swallow some
cordial Dr. Bruce brought with him, then
lays her head back among the soft warm
pillows. L think she will rally now,
says DR.. Bruce, as her breathing became
more audible and regular.
'Nourishment and warmth will do the
rest; but she has received shock from
which | fear she will never recover and
so saying he takes his leave.
By and by [ go up 70 the room and
find my wife watching alone by the aged
sufferer. She looks up at me with tears
in her eyes. Poor old SOUL she says,
L am afraid she will not rally from the
cold and EXPOSURE
go round to the other side of the bed
and look down upon her. The aged face
looks wan and pinched, and the scanty
gray locks which lie on the pillow are
still wet from the snow. She is a very
little woman, as far as l can judge of hel
in her reCumbent position, and | think
she must have reached her allotted three
score years and ten. Who can she be?'
l repeat, wonderingly. She does not be-
long to any of the villages hereabouts, or
we should know her face
AS l speak change passes over her
face; the eyes unclose, and she looks in.
quiringly about her. She tries to speak,
but is evidently too weak. My wife rails
es her and gives her s)me nourishment,
while she says soothingly, Don't try to
speak. You are among friends; when
you are better you will give us your his
tory. Lie still now and try to sleep
The graz head drops wearily back on
the pillow; and soon we have the salts.
faction of hearing by the regular respira-
ton that our patient is asleep.
You must come to bed now, Jessie /
say shall ring for Mary, and she can
sit up for the remainder of the night
But my wife, who is tender hearted
soul and born nurse, will not desert
her post; so leave her watching, and re,
ire to my solitary chamber.
When we meet in the morning, l find
hat the little old woman has spoken a
few words and seems stronger. Come
n with me, says my wife, and let us
5ry and find out who she is.' We find
ler propped into reclining posture with
pillows, and Mary beside her feeding
ler,
How are you noW?' asks Jessie, bend
ng over her.
Better, much better, thank you, good
ady,' she says in low voice, which
rembles from age as well as weakness.
And very thankful to you for your good
less.'
hear at once by the accent that she
S English, Are you strong enough to
ell how you got lost on the moor, and
where you came from, and where were
-ou goingp' continues my wife.
'Ah! | was going to my lad, my poor
ad, and now | shall never see him more,
ays the poor soul, with long sigh of
peariness.
Where is your lad, and how far have
ou come?
My lad is soldier at Fort George; and |
have come all the way from Liverpool |
D see him, and give him his old moth
RS Dlesslng before he goes TO the In
ies.' And then, brokenly, with long
auses of weakness and weariness, the
tile old woman tells her pitiful story.
Her lad she tells us, is her only remain
lg child. She had six, and this, the
is the only one who did not die
want during the Lancashire cotton
mine. He grew up a fine, likely boy,
le comfort and pride of his mothers
cart, and the stay finer declining years
ut "strike" threw him out of work.
nd, unable to endure the privation and
Iisery, in fit of desperation he listed"
lis regiment was quartered at Fort
gorge, and he wrote regularly to his
Other, his letters getting more cheerful
nd hopeful every day; until suddenly he
rote to say that his regiment was order.
to India, and begging her to send him
er blessing, as he ad not enough money
carry him to Liverpool to see her. The
red mother, widowed and childless,
We for this one remaining boy, felt that
le must look on his face once more be.
re she died She begged from few la
es, whose kindne's had kept her from
IN work hOuga snffioinnt pnnnav, 10 oarry