The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1881-11-10


your mother. so not to brighten her?"
"Oh, no, 'twould scare the little
woman out of her wits. Besides, l want
to surprise her. Won't she be glad
enough to burst when she sees me
walking in that side door by the lilac
bushest'
And he began to get so excited just
talking about it that had to scold him
and tell him to go to sleep, or he wouldn't
60 home very soon.
Really, l couldn't help keeping up the
delusion. He was so much better, and
80 hopeful, too; really began to think
the surgeon was mistaken about the
wound. The next day he felt so well he
wanted to sit up; but l said no, and
tried to amuse him every minute l
could be spared from the others. He
said 1 rubbed his head almost
like his mo.he-, and wouldn't she
be glad to see him though! When he
spoke of his mother, asked him if he
hadn't better write home, and if he didn't
want his mother to come and escort him
home, for he wouldn't be real strong for
long time. But he seemed so much to
anticipate surprising her; and then he
argued that twas too far for the little
mother to come alone. and he was getting
we'll so fast. The next day and the next
found my boy full of hope. and impatient
to get we'll and start for home. We had
such pleasant talks. He told me about
his home and little sisters and widowed
mother. I told him about Jamie and my
lonely life. 1 found myself laughing
over his funny speeches good many
times-a very unusual thing for sober
old maid like me. He so firmly believed
and insisted that he was getting well that
he made me believe it. Since then have
wondered how l could have been so de-
ceived.
The sixth morning, when l opened the
door, l missed the raised head and when
l reached his corner 1 saw it lay on the
pillow. The smile was little fainter
than usual. l noticed at once that each
CHI elk was marked with IL flushed spot,
aud that he breathed in short, quick
breaths. In answer as to how he felt he
said:
"All right; only out of wind. Can't
You raise II breeze some way?"
boistered him up and famed him rs
though life depended on it. All the time
my heart was beating so fast that didn't
care to speak. He tried hard to swallow
the breakfast had taken little extra
trouble to prepare, and grew cheerful all
the time. The surgeon didn't DO any.
thing more than have done, anu only
frowned when the boy asked him in
careless way, that was all assumed, II he
wouldn't be up in few days. He whis.
pered in my ear rs he passed:
Inflammation set in. Better send for
| friends if he has any"
l;Irst 1Coo orv Tina an With hands
that trembled and eyes that blurred 1
wrote to that mother-who, somehow,
had grown akin to me-that Willie was
wounded and the doctor thought that he
wouldn't live. At the close wrote, 81 am
doing all can for your boy" thought,
perhaps, it would ease her mind little.
I wasn't going tell him of the
letter until he spoke of writing; but to.
ward night he grew worse again, and
could see he was thinking about it.
Finally l asked what could do for him.
He only turned his head away and kept
very still. He thought I didn't see his
lips culver, and the tears that he tried
to hide in the wooden shawl. After
moment he spoke up just as pleasant as
ever.
perhaps you'd better-let mother
know amt getting well-so fast as
wasp"
1 told him just as quietly as could
that had thought for some time that
his mother had better come and SO, if
she couldn't do bettr than I at nursing,
so had sent word to her that morning.
He seemed really pleased, but didn't
have breath enough to tell me 80 for q
long time. After while he seemed
easier, and almost thought he'd gone
to sleep; but in q minute his eyes
opened. "Auntie"-I was at his side
instantly -"do you think l will get
we'll ?"
What could say? Did you ever have
to answer such q hard question
never did myself. to tell the truth. II
hope SO, Willie. but I'm afraid not"
Another question followed: Twill
mother come-in the morning?"
perhaps SO. Can't you go to sleep?"
| He shook his head, and pretty soon
laid his hand in mine. l gave it warm
"Auntie, I'm 'fraid-I haven't been
good. Didn't ever forget-to pray,
though-just as mother said. Won't
you, now?"
NV first thought Was to send for the
chaplain; but, no; Willie had asked me,
SO 1 prayed the best l could-prayed