Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1884-05-24
uOnite we'll u the child faltered

lily uOdu dCHSS. AuEfys tndII
MAJ as the eall-boy appeared a
the door; and, turning TO Raymond
he held out his little hand. "Good
bye" he said. "It's time for me t,
go on"
Little Dot hastened with hi
mother through the dark and gloo
my passage leading to the stage
and stood at wing waiting for hi
cue. His mother stationed hersel
near by to assist him in making hIl
changes.
Raymond and the managel
sought the front OF the house.
"That youngster is going to be
sick,o said the journalist, with con.
yiction, as they parted. "He looks
half i'll now. It's too bad such q
weak, delicate child should be out
nights in such bitter weather.
"Eh, what was that ? Sick, did
you say ?" cried the manager. 81
hope not-I hope not. 1t might
effect business you know, If he
didn't appear. He is the strongest
card ON the bill this week."
Raymond curled his lipsslightly al
the others heartle tlessness, and walk
ed off. Somehow Little Dot inter
ested him strangely. 1t might
have been that he regarded the tiny
favorite of the footlights with pity
ing tenderness. for the sake of his
own children.
The next night he returned to
the Varieties to find the fears he
entertained realized. The mana
ger met him with note in his
hand.
"Read this" he said with scowl
upon his face.
Thus adjured, Raymond took it,
and glanced hurriedly at the con-
tents. 1t was to the effect that
Little Dot was dangerously low
with scarlet fever, and, as conse-
quence, could not perform the rest
of the week.
The words he read brought up a
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 great lump took
possession of his throat.
"Poor Little Dot" he murmured.
81 wouldn't have had it happen
| for hundred dollars" said the
manager. at places me in deuce
of fix. 1t is almost impossible to
place any one in his place at such
short notice."
"Yeu,re in hard lines" said Ray
mond, coldly.
Something impelled him before
he went to the newspaper-office
that night, to seek the second-class
hotel where the child and his moth
er were stopping. Passing a for
lists on his way, he purchased
bunch of the creamy, full-blown
roses that were displayed tempting
ly in the window. These he sent
up to the sick room with his card
and request to know how the lit
tie fellow was.
Presently the answer came-no
better. Would he go up? Mrs.
Whitney would like to see him.
Raymond followed the boy up
stairs and softly entered the sick
room. The mother, with the mark
of WEAKNESS about her eyes, came
from the window where she had
been standing and led the way to
the bed.
"He was taken ill last night on
his way back from the theater,"
she whispered, in hOarse, strained
voice. 'sI thought it was nothing
but a cold and-and did not call in
a 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 malignant form.
He has been delirious nearly all
the time. The doctor did not tell
me so, and yet-pm sure he will
never get well again." She gave
bitter Sob, but her eyes were dry
her tears had been exhausted long
ago. ooh. why dosn't he come,
why doesn't he come ?''
She resumed her place by the
window, looking vacantly out at
the wild. black night. Raymond
remained by the bedside and gazed
compassionately down at the small
face marked with livid spots, Near
him stood stand upon which his
fragrant Offering and several Vials
of medicine were placed.
Suddenly the little sufferer open
ed his eyes with a faint moan. For
moment they rested on Raymond
and then Wearily closed again.
"Dad ~ the parched lips formed.
His mother approached the bed
noiselessly and bent anxiOusly over
him.
"Yes, Dot" she said, soothingly,
"he will soon be here-Soon be here.
you won't have to wait now, darl-
ing :" and looking up at Raymond,
in a choking voice, "he
wants to see his father, ] have sent /
for him, but-but 1 don't know
whether he will come. He drank
and-and we parted, God forgive
me, l have been to blame, too.
Oh, do you think that he will
Gomez"
Raymond looked at his watch.
The time lacked few minutes OF
eleven.
T"Yes, am sure he WILL" he said
"He is at the Globe, l
think. The performance is scarcely
over. No matter how heavy an ac-
tors grief may be, he is obliged to
disguise sometimes and play his
part. Yes, he will come, without
doubt"
Slowly the minutes dragged by.
Finally a faint knock was heard at
the door. She went and softly open
it. A man entered on tiptoe.
"Thank Heaven, you are here at
last ~ she said.
81 could not come BEFORE" he ut
tered, hoarsely. ''How is he bet
ter ?''
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 go. He
deemed the scene too sacred for his
presence. But the mother grasped
his arm, giving him a wild implor-
ing look.
"Stay," she said. "He liked
you"
While his father stood there, the
child opened his eyes and recogniz-
ed him.
"Dad," he cried, stretching forth
his little hot hand affectiOnately.
His father caught itand held it in
his cool palm.
ayes, my boy" he said, his
voice trempling.
"Give me a drink, dad" he
with difficulty. "Oh,
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