Ashtabula weekly telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1880-1886, 1880-11-19


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 weariy
over the scorchng sand, and thus the little
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 camo South 10 do
brave work, and | have no doubt she did II
| brayely, as woman should. She came In
pursuit OF science, and / have no doubt she
found IT, 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 ZerYiah Hope we owe
TO her. She hovers over the tale with a dis
tant and beautiful influence, peryadlnE as
| eye.
I have nothing further TO saw about the
story before tell It, except that II is true.
The weather, soon after the arrival Of the
Mercy, took terrible mood, and prolonged
drought settled upon Calhoun. The days
dawned lurid and long. The nights fell
devices and deadly. Fatal and beautiful
cOlors lurked In the swamps, and in the sft-
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
a score a day-back and white, poor and
rich, clean and foul, saint and sinner.
Leryiah Hope, volunteer nurse, became
quickly enough a marked man in Calhoun.
lie more than verified Doctor Dare prog
nosis. Where the deadliest work was TO be
done, this man, 1t was observed, asked to be
sent. Where no one else would 90, he went.
what no one else would do, he did. He
sought the neglected, and the negroes. He
DraYed the unCean and theunburied. With
the readiness Of all incisiye 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 rakng
lire, 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 MS cures with positive physical dila.
ton, and writhed over his dead as II he had
Killed them. He seemed built of endurance
more than mortal. II was not known when
he slept, scarcely II he ate. His weariness
sat upon him like halo. He grew thin, re-
fined, 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.
1 have been told that, to this day, many
people personally unknown to him, whose
fate II was to be Imprisoned in that be-
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. 1 have often wished that
he knew this.
1t was the custom in Calhoun to pay the
IL.
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.
az had not thought-'J he began, and
stood, coloring violently.
Z" You earn your five dollars dG.-, il any
body in Calhoun does" urged the official,
with kindly brusqueuess.
1t is not right; l 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
trict TO make money; l came to save life
10 SdUe Htep' he added, i'm quick whisper.
He had not slept for four night, and
seemea they noticed, more than usually
nervous in his manner.
'"The money is yours" insisted the Treas
urer.
Every WELL" said Hope, after 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 a 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
haggard look Of men whose days and nights
are too short for their work, and whose hope,
and heart as we'll, 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 aud
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 alphabet-"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.
1--WE all have about as much as we can
bear" thought Zerviah, as he went by. His
own burden was lighteneda little that morn
ing, and he was going home to get a real
rest. lie had Just saved his last patient
the doctor gave him up. 1t was young
man, the father Of five very little children,
and their mother had died the week before
The nurse mad looked at the orphans, and
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 l 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 |
face. He stood uncertain for moment; then |
shut the door and crawled upstairs. At in |
tervals he stopped on the stairs to rest, and |
sat with his head in his hands, thinking. BY |
and by he reached his room, and threw him |
self heavily upon his bed All the radiance |
had departed from his tired face, as il q fog |
had crept over it. He hid it in his long, thin, |
humane hands, and lay there for a little |
while. He was perpleXed-not surprised, |
He was not shOcked-Only disappointed. |
Duly he wished that he could get five min
utes' nap; but he could not sleep. Not |
knowing what else to do, he got upon his |
knees presently, in that place by the window |
he liked to pray in, and said alOud
" Lord, / didn't expect it; l wasn't ready. !
l should like to sleep long enough TO decide |
what to do"
After this, he went back to bed and lay
still again, and in a little while he truly |
slept. Not long; but to those who perish for |
rest, moment Of uneonsciOusness may do |
the work of a cup of water to one perishing |
Of thirst. He started strengthened, with |
lines of decision forming about his mouth |
and chini and, having bathed and cleanly |
dressed, went out. I....
He went out beyond the town to the hut |
where Seip the boatman lived. seip was at |