The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1884-05-21
ooh, why doesn't he come, why doesn't

ooh, why doesn'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 bed
side and gazed compassionately down at
the small face marked with livid spots.
Near him stood a stand upon which his
fragrant offering and several vials of med
icine were placed.
Suddenly the little sufferer opened his
eyes with faint moan. For a moment
they rested upon Raymond and then
wearily closed again.
'Dad !" the parched lips formed.
His mother approached the bed noise
lessly and bent anxiously over him.
eyes, Dot" she said, soothingly, che
will soon be here-soon be here. You
won't have long to wait now, darling :"
and looking up at Raymond, she con-
tinued, in choking voice, che wants to
see his father l have sent for him, but
but l 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
Gomez"
Raymond looked at his watch. The
time lacked few minutes of II.
eyes, 1 am sure he WILL" he said,
pityingly. "He is at the Globe think.
The performance is scarcely over. No
matter how heavy an actors grief may
be, he is obliged to disguise it sometimes
and play his part Yes, he will come,
without doubt"
Slowly the minutes dragged by. Fin
ally faint knock was heard at the door.
She went and softly opened it. A man
entered on tiptoe.
"Thank heaven, you are here at last2'
she said.
CT could not come before" he ut
tered hoarsely. 'How is he-bettern
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 the mother grasped him by the arm,
giving him wild, imploring look.
"Stay," she said. He liked you"
While his father stood there, the
child opened his eyes and recognized
him.
"Dad!" 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.
"Give me drink, dad, d" he whispered,
with difficulty. ooh, dad" with g
pathetic moan, "I'm all burning upm
His father moistened his lips with
water.
"There, Dot" he said, with forced
cheerfulness. "You feel better now,
don't you9 And you're going to get
well soon. Such good times we'll have
together when you dol WE'LL"
The child interrupted him with faint
shake of his head
"No, dad" he said, fixing his big
eyes solemnly upon him, 81 won't ge
well; and want you to promise me
promise me"
"Yes, Dot, =" he said, with a groan.
THAT you won't get-get-tha
way m
He looked steadily up. His fathe
bowed his head, too full of anguish tt
speak.
That's good dad, " said the child
fondly. 81 knew you would. You
couldn't help it, could you, dad2"
Every word was a stab at the mans
heart. He turned to Raymond. "Fol
Gods sake get doctor!" he said, broken
ly. "He's dying"
"No, no, interrupted the child, hastily
'Gt's too late-too late Where's man
MAJ l can't see. want her hand"
His mother came and held out he
trembling hand to him. His father gen
tly endeavored to draw her away
''No, no" said Dot, the words coming
in gasps. 81 want both-both."
He strove with his remaining strength
to join them together. They saw wha
he wished to do, and clasped hands.
A peaceful smile lit up his wan face
He said no more, and yet they under
stood. .-AalcoInl Douglas, in tho Continent