The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1885-01-03
brating the Christmas season in their

| great room, with scores OF DeuS
| plain, white walls, with now and again
a scripture text on them. Patients
coughing and patients moaning with
pain. On one cot was the woman
with the portrait. Her eyes were half
open and she breathed but family but
she was conscious. Then she reused
little and talked, and the sweetness
of her voice, though but feeble, at
tracted the attention of the orderlies
and they listened. Presently the doc
tor came and stood by the bedside and
looked at her.
'She cannot live, Jeffry," he said to
the orderly. "She will die of the 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 daugh-
ter. She talked good deal of non
sense, it seemed to me, about horses
and carriages and servants, but from
what can understand she must have
at one time been pretty well of-ac
cording 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 to this
cold climate, and then she said, ooh,
he is dead, he is dead" and began to
cry"
care you talking about me? You
are the doctor, are you not, and l am
in a hospital, am 1 not?" asked low
voice from the bed.
Eyes, madam, you are in the hospi-
tall, replied the physician, with start,
land you must keep very quiet indeed
in order to get we'll"
eyes, doctor but am not going
to get well, and want to tell you
something about myself before I die,
and want you to send for my Julie,
my daughter; she-God in heaven l
don't know where to find her." And
the low tones died away in wall that
almost frightened the Waterman in the
hall into a fit, albeit he is accustomed
to 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 APP
pointment her daughter had made.
She was southern woman, she said,
and before the war her people were all
powerful in their section. At its close
her husband had gathered what little
fortune he could and they went abroad.
Business matters did not prosper, and
after while they came back to Phil
adelphia. Her husband went to gam
bling and from that to drinking. One
day he was brought home dead. An
accident had occurred on the river
and he had been MORALLY wounded,
dying before he 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 i'll her
little daughter 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. Her money was
gone, and she lived on the proceeds
of what she could pawn. Then she
heard that dissipated womenfreQuented
concert saloons of a certain character,
and night after night she watched at
the doors, being too poorly clad to be
allowed admittance. She grew thinner
and paler and weaker, but the hope of
finding her Julie" buoyed her up.
She did not expect to be repulsed, she
said, for her daughter, though a way
ward child, had never been unkind 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 doctors SAW
her.
Midnight!
The woman with the miniature lay
silent on her cot. A smile was on her
countenance and the thin lips were
parted slightly as if receiving the i'm
press of the baby face in the picture
The cold and hunger were forgotten.
the misery of her life was over. She
was dead.
"Will you keep the appointment.
doctor2" asked the nurse.
"How can l distinguish the cir
from hundreds like herr" he answer
ed.
| Try 1t Yourself.
The proof of the pudding is not in chew
ing the string, but in having an opportunity
| to try the article yourself DR.. h. II Mitch
| ell, the Druggist, has free trial bottle OF
DR.. Bosanko's Cough and Lung Syrup for
zach one who is afflicted with Coughs, Colds