The Douglas independent. [volume] (Roseburg, Or.) 187?-1885, 1884-05-10


front of the house.
"That youngster il going to be sick, SAID
the journalist, with conviction, when they
parted. aTIe looked half Ill now. It's too
bad that such a weak, delicate child should
have to be out nights In such bitter weather.
sEh, what was thatf Sick did you sayr
cried the manager with alarm hope not
hope not. It might affect business, you
| know, If be didn't appear. He is the strong
| est card on the bill this week"
Raymond curled his lip slightly at
| the others heartlessness, and walked off.
| Somehow Little Dot interested him
strangely. It might have been that he
| regarded the tiny favorite of the footlights
with pitying tenderness. for the sake of his
| own children.
The next night he returned to the Varie-
ties to find the fears he had enterta:7sd real
| lied The manager met him with note in
his hand.
."Read it," he said, with scowl upon his
face.
| glanced hurried at the contents. 1t was to
the effect that Little Dot was dangerously
| low with the scarlet fever, and, as q conse-
| quence, could not perform the rest of the
| week.
The words he read brought up vivid
recollection of the two babes who had lain
| in the terrible grasp of the scarlet fiend until
| only the great mother-love had won them
back to life A lump took possession of his
| throat.
"Poor Little Dot" he murmured.
II wouldn't have had it happen for $780,"
/ grumbled the manager. 'It places
me in deuce of fix. It's almost impossible
/ to put any one on IN his place at such short
notice"
you're in hard lines" said Raymond,
colily.
/ Something impeled him before he went to
the newspaper office that night to seek the
second-class hotel where the child and
his mother were stopping. Passing
florists ON his way, he purchased
a bunch Of the creamy, full blown
roses that were temptingly displayed
In the widow. These he sent up to the sick
room with his card and request to know
how the little fellow was
Presently the answer came-no letter.
Would he go upi Mrs. Whitley would like
to see him.
Raymond followed the boy upstairs and
softly entered the darkened room The
mother, with the marks Of weariness about
her eyes, came from the window where she
| bQ6
| bed.
He wa taken ill last night on his way
back from the theatre" she whispered, in q
hoarse, strained tone. 81 thought it was
nothing but a cold and-and did not
call in doctor. But he grew SO much worse
| in the night that had to send for one, and
he says it's scarlet fever in its most malig-
nant form. He has been delirious nearly all
the time The doctor did not tell ME so, and
| yet-pm sure he'll never get we'll again
She gave bitter sob but her eyes were dry
her tears had been exhausted long ago sOh,
why doesn't he come, why dosen't he Gomez
She resumed her place by the window,
looking vacantly out at the wild, black night.
Raymond remained by the bedside and gazed
compassionately down upon the small face
marked with livid spots. Near him stood a
stand upon which his fragrant Offering and
several yials of medicine were placed
Suddenly the little sufferer opened his eyes
with faint moan For a moment they rested
upon Raymond aud then wearily closed
again.
"Dadw the parched lips formed
His mother approached the bed noiselessly
and bent anxiously ever him.
"Yes, Dot, /" she said, soothingly, "he will
soon be here-soon be here. You won't have
|
at Raymond, she continued, in a choking
voice, "he wants to see his father. l have
sent for him, but-but don't know whether
he will come. He drank and-and we parted.
God forgive me, have been to blame, too.
Oh, do you think that he will comer
Raymond looked at his watch. The time
lacked few minutes Of II.
"Yes, am sure he will" he said pityingly.
"He Is at the Globe, I think The perform
ance is scarcely over. No matter how eavy
an actors grief may be, he is obliged to dis
guise it sometimes and play bis part Yes
he will come without doubt"
Slowly the minutes dragged by. Finally q
faint knock was heard at the door. She
went and softly opened it man entered
on tiptoe.
"Thank heaven, you are here at lastl" she
said.
J II could not come BEFORE" he uttered
hoarsely. "How is he-bettsra"
She mournfully shook her head. He went
and looked down at his child His haggard
face told OF the violent grief that was raging
in his breast.
Raymond turned to 60 He deemed the
scene too sacred for his presence. But tn.
mother grasped him by the arm, giving hin
wild, imploring look.
, While the father stood there, the chilt
opened his eyes and recognize him
"Dadl" he cried, stretching forth his little
! hot hand, affectionately.
! His father caught it, and held it In his cool
palm.
, Eyes, my boy" he said, his strong voice
trembling.
i "Give me a drink, dad, he whispered, will
, difficulty. "Oh, dad" with a pathetic moan
! am all burning upI"
His father moistened his lips with water.
"There, Dot" he said, with forced cheerful
ness. .Ycu feel better now. don't youa And
| you're going to get we'll soon. Such good
times we'll have together when you do
| WE'LL"
The child interrupted him with q faint
J shake of his head.
) mo, dad" he said, fixing his big eye.
, solennly upon him, II won't get we'll; AMI
, want you to promise me-promise me-"
: @Yes, Dot" be said, with groan.
THAT you won't get-get-that wayn
He looked steadily up. His father bowec
his head, too full of anguish to speak.
"That's good dad. said the child, fondly
II knew you would. You couldn't help it
: could you, dad"
Every word was a stab at the mans heart
He turned to Raymond "For Gods SAX
get doctorr he said. brokenly. "He'
dyingp
"No, nc" interposed the child, hastily. att
too late-too latel Where's mammal can
see. want her hand"
4 His mother came and held out her trem
bling hand to him. His father gently en-
deavored to draw his away.
d 1No, nor said Dot, the words coming IL
{ gasps Il want both-both.n
He stroye with his remaining strength Il
| join them together. They saw what b.
: wished TO do, and clasped, hands
, A peaceful smile lit up his wan face. n
= said no more, and yet they understood