The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1884-04-05
WHAT IT COST.

lOI1 WdIu, duu. Ou iutH lay TWO iHCl' 1
each with a gun-shot wound through
the right arm below the elbow. They
were about the same age, each had
a wife and children at home, and both
hoped 10 save these useful right arms,
for on their strength and skill the sup
port of their families depended.
Clarke was a farmer, a pleasant,
happy tempered fellow, bound to look
on the bright side of things, and to get
well as soon as possible, though his
wound was the worst of the two. Morse
had been blacksmith and was proud OF
his strength, but said little and seemed
to have something on his mind, being
moody as well as taciturn.
The two were soon friendly, for neigh
bors in q hospital can hardly help being
so, but Clarke did most of the talking
and Morse seemed content to listen to
his lively gossip without making any re-
turn. Therefore | knew very little
about him, and when the surgeon one
day asked me if Morse had been drink
ing man, / could not answer.
"Why do you want to know, doc
tor?"
" He is not doing us we'll as Clarke,
though his wound is q safer sort and
ought to be nearly well by this time. 1t
is in a bad way and I'm afraid he will
have to lose that arm Of his" answered
the surgeon shaking his head over
particularly bad smelling dose he was
preparing for some unhappy patient.
II hope not / thought he was doing
well, and that Clarke, who suffers much
more, was the one who might have to
lose an ARM l said, rolling bandage5
for both as | talked
"Not he! his blood is as healthy as
child's; ne will be all right in Il month;
you may tell him So"
I'm very glad, for he is always
talking about the happy time when he
can 90 home to his wife and babies
Morse says nothing, but is as anxious to
get well, l think, though when you
speak of his family it does not seem to
cheer him up"
81 wish you'd find out if he has not
been a drinker. l can't make him talk
and it is important to know, for if it is
so the sooner the arm is off the better"
and the doctor corked his bottle with q
decisive rap.
When / saw the men again my feel
ing toward them was quite changed,
for now anxiety about Clarke was all
gone, and l pitied Morse SO much 1
could not bear to ask that hard cues
ton. l soon learned the fact, however,
without asking, and in this way:
AS l went through my ward with
glass OF wine-whey for another patient,
| stopped to wet Morse's arm, for | saw
& look of pain on his face and knew the
comfort of cold water. He did not
speak and / went to refill the basin
leaving the glass on the table near his
bed. When came back it was empty.
"Why, Morse, that wasn't for you!
Stimulants of all kinds are bad for you
just now" [ said, thinking how impa-
tent poor Martin would be at having to
wait for a second supply.
81 know i'll couldn't help taking it
the smell was too much for me, " NUT
tered Morse, looking red and ashamed,
though the fierce, hungry expression of
his eye betrayed that he longed for
more.
I'm afraid you like shat sort of thing
too much for your own good" ven
tured to say.
at has been the ruin of me; but |
fight against it, indeed | do he said so
earnestly that believed it, and longed
to prepare him for what was to come,
feeling that l could tell him more
gently than the surgeon, who had q
somewhat startling way of saying to u
patient: "Now, then, my man, | shall
want this leg OF yours in about an
| hour"
''Perhaps the pain you have suffered
| here may help you in your fight.
Times like these do much to strengthen
| good resolutions if one is sincere"
said, pleased at having won him to talk
of himself.
81 know it, and I've made many
since I've been lying here. But you
see l couldn't resist even small
temptation like that L wish I'd had
bullet through both arms before
did it!'' he answered, under his breath,
with remorseful look at the empty
glass.
perhaps the loss of one arm will
help you to resist" began, finding it
hard to soften the hard truth after all.
"You don't mean that?' and he
looked up at me with a scared face,
| for the loss of right arm was more
dreaded than the loss of any other
| limb.
81 am afraid | do DR.. Otmon thinks
it may be necessary, for it is not doing
we'll"
''But it is not so bad as Clarke's.
They've saved his arm, why can't they
mine?" he whispered, glancing at the
great, brawny hand below the band
ages, the hand that would never swing
sledge-hammer again.
"Ah, that's the pity of it, Morse
They saved his, though worse wounded
than yours, because he is temperate
man. You must lose yours because
you have poisoned your blood with bad
liquor and must suffer for it.
Haven't l suffered enough yet? I'd
rather die at once, than 90 home to be
a crippled" cried the poor fellow in de-
spair, for he had q strong mans horror
of weakness and dependence.
l didwhat | could to comfort him,
and he needed comfort sorely, both then