The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-11-27

through the relentless noon. Her merciful
blue eyes filed. but the mans look followed
with dry, exultant light.
There is no porter" he said. abruptly,
glancing at her heavy bag and shawl-strap.
Would you permit me to help you"
"Oh, thank you'll" replied DIR. Dare,
heartily, relinquishing her burden.
Plainly, this poor fellow was not gen.
tleman. The lady could afford to be kiRd to
him.
81 know nothing how we shall find it,"
she chatted, affably, "but I go to work to-
night l presume shall need nurses before
morning. Pll have your address,"
She took from her gray sacque pocket a
PHYSICIANS note book, and stood, pencil in
hand.
my name," he said, sis Hope-Zerviah
Hope.''
She wrote without comment, walking as
she wrote; he made no other attempt to
converse with her. The two physicians fol-
lowed, exchanging now and then a subdued
word. The negro dragged himself YEARLY
over the scorching sand, and thus the little
procession Of pity entered the town Of CAL
houn.
My story does not deal with love and Ia
dies. have to relate no tender passages be-
tween the fever physicians, volunteers from
New York, for the afflicted region of CAL
houn. DR.. Marian Dare came South to do
brave work, and have no doubt she did it
UldNcly, as u WOuluH SAOulus one CdLlc III
pursuit OF science, and have no doubt she
found 1t, as woman will. Our chief inter-
est in her at this time lies in the fact that
certain missing fragments in the history OF
the person known as Zerviah Hope we owe
to her. She hovers over the tale with dis
tant and beautiful influence, pervading as
womanly compassion and alert as woman's
eye.
1 have nothing further to say about the
story before 1 tell it, except that 1t is true.
The weather. soon after the arrival of the
Mercy, took a terrible mood, and prolonged
dawned lurid and long. The nights fell
devices and deadly. Fatal and beautiful
colors lurked in the swamps, and in the sift-
ing dust, fine and hard, blown by siroccos
across the glare of noon, like sands on the
shores of the Lake Of Fire. The pestilence
walked in darkness, and the destruction
wasted at midday. Men died, in that little
town of few thousand souls, at the rate OF
score day-black and white, poor and
rich, clean and foul, saint and sinner.
Zeryiah Hope, volunteer nurse, became
quickly enough marked man in Calhoun.
lie more than verified Doctor Dare's prog
nosis. Where the deadliest work was to be
done, this man, it was observed, asked to be
sent. Where no one else would go, he went.
What no one else would do, he did. He
sought the neglected, and the negroes. He
braved the uncIean, and the unburied. With
the readiness of all incisive character acting
on emergencies, he stamped himself upon
the place and time. He went to his task as
the soldier goes to the front under raking
fire, with cleaning eyes and iron muscles.
The fever of the fight was on him. He seemed
to wrestle with disease for his patients, and
to trample death beneath his feet. He glowed
over his cures with a positive physical dila-
ton, and writhed over his dead as if he had
killed them. He seemed built Of endurance
more than mortal. 1t was not known when
he slept, scarcely if he ate. His WEAKNESS
satupon him like halo. He grew thin, re-
lined, radiant. In short, he presented an
example of that rare spectacle which never
falls to command spectators-a common man
possessed by an uncommon enthusiasm.
L have been told that, to this day, many
people personally unknown to him, whose
fate it was to be imprisoned in that be-
leaguered town at that time, and who were
familiar with the nervous figure and plain,
intense countenance of the Northern nurse,
as he passed, terrible day after terrible day,
to his post. can not hear of him, even now,
without that suffusion of look by which we
hold back tears; and that, when his name
took on, as it did, more than local reputa-
ton, they were unable to speak it because of
choking voices. l have often wished that
he knew this.
1t was the custom in Calhoun to pay the
nurses at short, stated intervals-I think
once week, on Saturday nights. The first
time that Hope was summoned to receive
his wages, he evinced marked emotion, too
genuine not to be one of surprise and repug-
nance.
81 had not Thought" he began, and
stood, coloring violently.
You earn your five dollars day, if any,
body in Calhoun does" urged the official,
with kindly brusqueness.
at is not right; do not wish to take the
money" said the nurse with agitation.
81 do not wish to be paid for-saving-
human life. did not come to the fever dis
trlct to make money; l came to save life
to save life" he added, in quick whisper.
He had not slept for four night, and
seemed, they noticed, more than usually
nervous in his manner.
'The money is yours" insisted the Treas
urer.
"Very WE'LL" said Hope, after a long ST.
lence; and no more was siad about it. He
took his wages and walked away up the
street, absorbed in thought.
One morning, he went to his lodgings to
seek little rest. 1t was about six O'Clock,
and people were already moving in the hot
thirsty streets. The apothecaries' doors
were open, and their clerks were astir. The
physicians drove or walked hastily, with the
are too short for their work, and whose hope,
and heart as well, have grown almost too
small. At the telegraph office, knots Of men
and women gathered, duly inspiring the he
roic young OPERATOR slight girl-who had
not left her post for now many days and
nights. Her chief had the fever last week
was taken at the wires-lived to get home.
She was the only person alive in the town
who knew how to communicate with the
outer world. She had begun to teach little
brother of hers the Morse lphabet-"That
somebody may know, Bobby, if I-can't
come some day. She, too, knew Zerviah
Hope, and looked up; but her pretty face
was clouded with the awful shadow of her
own responsibility.
"We all have about as much as we can
BEAR" thought Zerviah, as he went by. His
own burden was lightened q little that morn
ing, and he was going home to get real
rest. He had just saved his last patient
the doctor gave him up. 1t was a young
man, the father Of five very little children,
and their mother had died the week before.
The nurse had looked at the orphans, and
said: "He's got to live." This man had
blessed him this morning. and called the love
Of heaven on his head and its tender mercy
on his whole long life.
On this morning that 1 speak Of, standing
with his almost happy face and lifted head,
with his foot upon the stairs, he turned, for
no reason that he could have given, and
looked over his shoulder. A man behind
him, stepping softly, stopped, changed color,
and crossed the street.
!" am followed, ~ said the nurse.
He spoke aloud, but there was no one to
hear him. A visible change came over his
10 nA< .A.s.. q.