St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1881-03-19
49, 1881

"She lives in the last house on
this street, sir, replied Harry. "You
can see it from here, in the third
block. ON the left hand side"
Have you sent Tor physician p
"No. sir. said the poor boy, sor-
rowfully shaking his head. Il have
no money either to pay fer a phys;-
tion or for medicine"
Here" said the stranger, draw
ing pieces of silver from his pocket
there are three dollars; take that
and run Immediately and get a
physician"
Henry's eyes flashed with graft
tude; he received the money with a
stammering and inaudible voice,
but with look of the warmest
gratitude. and vanished.
The benignant gentleman imme-
diately sought the dwelling of the
sick widow. He entered little
room in which he could see nothing
but a few implements of female
labor, q miserable table, an old
bureau and little bed which stood
in one corner, on which the invalid
lay. She appeared weak and al
most exhausted and in her bed at
her feet. sat little boy, crying as
if his heart would break.
Deeply moved at the sight, the
stran ger drew near to the bedside
of the invalid, and feigning to be a
physician, inquired into the nature
of the disease. The symptoms were
explained in few words, when the
widow, in deep sigh, added: "Oh,
sir, my sickness has deeper cause
and is beyond the art of the physi-
clan to cure. | am most wretched
mother. I see my children sinking
daily deeper and deeper into want,
which have no means of relieving.
My sickness is of the heart, and
death alone can end my sorrows;
but even death is dreadful to me
for it awakens the thought Of
misery into which my children
would be plunged if"
Her emotions choked her utter
ance, and tears flowed unrestrained
down her cheeks. But the pretend
ed physician spoke so consolingly
to her, and manifested SO warm a
sympathy for her condition that the
heart of the woman throbbed with
pleasure that was unwonted.
do not despair, said the benevo-
lent stranger; think of preserving
a lie that is SO precious to your
children. Can 1 write prescrip-
ton here .
The poor widow took a little
prayer book from the hand Of her
child who sat with her in the bed,
and tore out n blank leaf.
q have no other paper" said she,
"but perhaps that will do"
The stranger took pencil from
his pocket and wrote few lines
upon the paper.
"This prescription, said he, "you
will find of great service to you. If
it is necessary. / will write you a
second. l have great hopes of your
recovery"
He laid the paper on the table
and went away.
Scarcely was he gone when the
elder son retur. Led.
"Cheer up, mother" said he,
going to her bedside, affectioDately
kissing her. "See what kind and
benevolent stranger has given US.
1t will make US rich for several
days. 1t has enabled us to have a
physician, and he will be here in a
moment. Compose yourself nov,
dear mother, and take courage"
"Come nearer, my son" said the
mother, looking with pride and af-
lection on her child, "come nearer,
that I may bless you. God never
forsakes the innocent and good. Oh,
may he still watch over you in all
your paths! A physician has just
beeh here. He was a stranger, but
spoke to me with q kindness and
compassion that was balm to my
heart. When he went away he left
that prescription on the table-see
if you can read it"
Henry glanced at the paper and
started back; he took it up, and ms
he read it through again. a cry OF
wouder and astonishment escaped
him.
"What is it. my SON." exclaimed
the poor widow. trembling with an
apprehension of she knew not what.
.Ab, read. dear, dear mother!