The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1883-12-19

t these sights down the side street
the poor soul wandered, Her step,
> were more and more unsteady as sh'
/ progressed. From time to time sh,
would look at the picture and smile
; for she thought her darlings wer,
with her. 1t is true one was deao
and the other had turned from her
but she would see them soon she
: thought. Away down the silent
streets toward the North River she
went, growing weaker as she walked
| The light of pleasant homes beamed
: on her, and she saw through the un
; curtained windows the figures ol
men and women and children clad
in warm apparel and not hungry,
, On the great docks there was moth
ing to stop her advance, but po-
liceman saw her and followed. AWAY
to the end she went, where the dark
waters of the river gurgled against
the bulk heads. There she sat down
and, being over weary and weak, fell
into the water. There was loud hal
looing and the rush of men with
lights followed, for ship was hard
by and the men were celebrating the
Christmas season in their own way.
This is terrible night, woman,
to take man into the water, SAID
the policeman az, all dripping, he
laid his senseless burden on the
boards.
A ward in the hospitall
A great room. with scores of beds,
plain, white walls, with now and
then Scripture text on them. Pa
tients coughing, and patients moan
ing with pain. On one cot was the
woman with the portrait. Her eyes
were half open and she breathed
but family; but che was conscious.
Then she reused a little and talked,
and the sweetness of her voice,
though but feeble, attracted the at
tention of the orderlies and they
listened. Presently the doctor came
and stood by the bedside and looked
at her.
She cannot live, Jeffry,' he said
to the orderly. She will die of
shock and starvation
But, sir. she had forty cents in
her pocket when she came in and
could have bought something to
eat
That may be, but she has been
slowly starving for days and improp-
erly clad, and the want of food and
exposure to the weather has brought
her down. The forty cents would
have done her but little good. though
if taken in hand forty-eight hours
ago she might have been saved
She has talked very queer, sir,
since she came in, not at all like
most of our patients.
Did she?'
That she did, indeed. She has
something on her mind about a
daughter. She talked good deal Of
nonsense. it seemed TO me, about
horses and carriages and servants,
but from what | can understand
she must have at one time been
pretty well off-according to her
own story. She called Julie"
number OF times and told somebody
to tuck the robes carefully about
her, as she was not used 20 this cold
climate. and then said, ''Oh, he is
dead. he is dead"
"Are YOU talking about me ? You
are the doctor, are you not ? and |
am in a hospital, am l not ?" asked
low, sweet voice from the bed.
Yes, madam, you ale in hospit-
al, replied the physician, with a
start, 'and you must keep yery qui-
ct, indeed. in order to get well
Yes, doctor, but | am not going
to get well, and l want to tell you
something about myself before | die
and | want you to send for my Ju-
lie, nv daughter she-God in heav-
en- don't know where to find her.,
And the low tones died away in a
wall that almost frightened the
watchman in the hall into a fit, al
belt he is accustomed 10 such things.
Then they gave her a soothing
draught and she became easier and
told the doctor her story, asking him
the while to keep the appointment
her daughter had made She was a
Southern woman, she said, and be-
fore the war her people were all
powerful in their section. AT its
close her husband had gathered to-
gether what little fortune he could
and they went abroad Business
matters did not prosper, and after a
while they came back to Philadel /
phia. Her husband went to gam
bling and from that to drinking.
One day he was brought home dead.
An accident had occurred on the riv-
er, and he had been mortally wound
ed, dying before be reached home.
Brain fever seized her and she was
i'll for many months she thought
(the doctor and the nurse looked at
each other significantly. While
she was IL her little girl disappeared.
She was seventeen years of age, and
that was two years ago. She hunted
for the girl without success, though
she was told that she had plunged
headlong into a life of dissipation.
The mother came to New York.
Then she heard that dissipated wo-
men frequent concert saloons Of a
certain character, and night after
night she watched at the doors, be-
ing too poorly clad to be allowed ad-
mittance She grew thinner and pal
er and weaker, but the hope of find
ing her Julie" buoyed her up. She
did not expect to be repulsed, she
said, for her daughter, though a
wayward child, had never been un-
kind to her, and she had faith now
that there was some good reason for
it. She did not believe that her
child had gone all wrong. All that
could be explained the next day
when the doctor saw her.
Midnight!
The woman with the miniature
lay silent on her cot. A smile was
on her countenance and the thin
lips we're parted slightly as if re-
ceiving the impress of the baby face