The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1879-11-13

noise that was necessary. It's convul-
sive throes moved the shawl she had
thrown over her shoulders.
Don't chatter" said the doctor,
thinking Mr.. Shadrach was addressing
him. ''Just do what I bid you, and
the more quietly, the better.''
Half an hour later, Miss Turpin was
alone again, save for the body of the
doctor that lay upon the bed. He was
helpless there, perhaps dying; his face
was strange and distorted, his eyes half
closed. A confused, unintelligent muir
mur flowed from his lips, his hands
clenched and unclenched; at times a
groan seemed wrung from his vitals.
Miss Turpin's features were pale and
| haggard, her eyes streaming with tears
| Yet, in the midst of an anguish that par
/ took of despair, with throes of pain and
/ terror unspeakable, there was born to
her solemn and almost sinister JOY, the
first ever given to that sterile soul.
When the Doctor came in the evening
he thought he had never seen so patient
and noble face; there was something
| in it that went to his heart.
''Be comforted, - he said, {" let us rely
upon the youth and strong physique of
your husband -
The incoherent muttering of his patient
attracted the Doctors attention. Sharp
and strong sentences fell upon his ear,
that excited his professional curiosity
/ When he heard from Miss Turpin of the
enthusiasm and zeal of the young student,
| as much as she dared tell him of his de-
/ feated aspirations and hopes, the good
Doctors eyes kindled with sympathy.
Let him only get well,'' he said,
- and we will sweep these lions out of
! his path
Miss Turpin smiled through her
| tears.
"He viii get well, thanks to you,'
she said.
"And to you," he added looking
around the room with appreciation. 1t
| had been suddenly metamorphOsed into
/ the model of a chamber for the sick
! The open fire, with its cheerful blaze
and ventilating draught; the subdued
/ light; the white and warm drapery of
the bed; her own little couch near by;
/ pretty, shadOwy pictures upon the walls
| tinted by her own hands-an eloquent
| silence reigning over all.
@ 1t is lucky for yonder lad, - thought
! the Doctor, q that in all this big
wretched barrack the one little snug
! gerry is his own
| And so the days went by, each one
/ freighted with hope and fear. There
came one at last upon which rested the
life or death of the young student.
q Some time this evening"" said the
Doctor to Miss Turpin, g he will regain
consciousness; be sure that you do not
| leave his bedside. | would not for the
world, at that critical moment, that
strange face should meet his own
Miss Turpin turned pale, and stretched
out her hands with gesture of entreaty.
IL IL
! knees, and from thence to the floor
Now had come the supreme moment of
! torture. Now her labor, her joy, her
| life, was done.
A strange face! What face could be
! stranger than her own?
Tut, child!'' said the Doctor; "I
thought you had more courage. There
is every hope for him. Can't you bear
! joy as you have sOrrowP 1 only want
| that he shall first see the face of his
wife, the dearest to him in the wOrld.''
He put down his hands to her, but
still she hid her face from his. Her
whole frame trembled. She wished that
she could die there and then.
''Oh, Doctor" said she, lifting at last
her eyes to his, how can tell youP
how can make you knowP 1 am not
his wife!"
her frank, earnest eyes caught his own,
he could not resist the innocent plead
ing there. She might be a poor Mag
dalen even, but he had never seen so
childlike and yet wOmanly a creature
We must think of nothing now but
our patient" he said gently; ''your
face is at least familiar and dear to
him.
"Alas! no. she said; sit is strange,
almost unknown. 1t is far better l
should 90 away
Then she told the Doctor all. And as
she went on to confess how she had
dared shelter this poor neighbor of hers,
without friends, sick unto death, help
less and alOne-how she had dared at
any risk to shelter him and to nurse him
back to life the good surgeons eyes
blinked under his shaggy brows. He
put his heavy hand in benediction upon
her bowed head.
Thou good little Samaritan!" he
said.
And two big, hollow, handsome eyes
l upon the white bed in the corner also
filed with tears. He was so weak, this
! poor young Blake, that he could scarcely
help sObbing outright at so touching a
: story.
Why-why," he faltered to himself,
- IN little MISS IurpIn S room! u thou
= merciful heaven! in little Miss Turpin S
e bed With the CHEEKY little fire in the
: CRATE to foil yonder biting blast, with all
D the little knick-knacks and furbelows
r about-the little pictures on the wall,
+ her bird-cage at the window, and a
4 neat little medicine stand, with lots
of spoons in various doses, each
4 spoon with little Miss Turpin's name
: and to her, then, under heaven,
1 owe my life! All, may God do so to
t me, and more also, if 1 desert little
n Miss Turpin, or let little Miss Turpin
S desert me! -
i "And nOw," said the sweet, sad voice
n of Miss Turpin, ''take me to his bedside
l am foolishly weak. can scarcely see
1 Let me look upon him just once more
f before 90. You will take care of him
5 now, Doctor, won't you? But let me say
n goodbye
n The Doctor, undecidedly, scarcely
n knowing what to say, half carried her t
: the bed.
a Goodbye, goodbye" she said
), bending over him, her warm tears fall
IS ing on his pale, sunken face, her hot
+ trembling hands clasping themselves to
gether.
e But suddenly two other hot, trem
r, bling hands seized hers in a feeble grasl
" the hollow, sunken eyes of the stu
dent fastened themselves upon Mis-
d Turpin's face with very hungry ten
q derness.
Is ''Oh, no. he said, "you can not %
from here, not for the world; you SCI
d the good Doctor has said it viii not d'
T. TO have a Stranoe face at my bedside