The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1889-10-07

| AhSS PAL teu'
On Sunday morning. Esley arriving at the
| Hospital, encountered shabby inquire
on the doorstep. and, finding himself al
dressed In husky voice, with strong COCK
ney accent to boot, looked at the features OF
the speaker. 1t was Turtle. with the most
| woe-begone expression on his prematurely
sharpened face. His lips quiyered omlnousiy.
WAS you goin' to see Doo., slE ne
asked, jerking his thumb toword the windows
above them, but avoiding the colonePs eye.
"Yes, my lad, have you seen him?" replied
| Esley kindly. -, m
| before he answered savagely: mo | amt!
| arxd to jis' now, and was told as /
! couldn't see i'm. spose they thort admit
no business to want to see pal,' he added
| looking down at the extremely shabby, much
mended neither. garments which were re-
placed on weekdays by his Newspaper"
uniform. The deficiencies of his private
wardrobe were now painfully apparent.
III take you with me, said Esley smil-
ing. You're Docks great chum. aren't
you? I've seen you together
Turtle nodded suddenly, still smarting
with wounded pride
The door was opened by smart maid,
who instantly admitted the colonel, and
unwlllingly tolerated his disreputabe
appendage with covert looks of scorn, which
Turtle repaid by glazing defiance behind the
colOnePs back
On being shown into the private room
where Dook now lay, Esley spoke aside to
the nurse, who shook her head mournfully
Turtle sprang toward the bed. regardless
OF the strangers present, and said h0arscly:
"Dook, say Little 'unv
The dark brown eyes were suddenly lit up
by struggling light of loving recognition,
they gave no sound.
Don't yer know me, Dock? It's yer old
pal, and catching Docks thin little hand as
IL lay loose on the coverlet in the strong grasp
Oh MS coarse red hand. Turtle hurriedly
added in whisper: "I've got some marbles
shillin'p
Diving into the innermost recesses of his
eapaci0us tronser pockets Turtle with lffi-
Guilty brought to tue surface the above mem
TONED valuables and laid them en- the bed.
The sister came forward as Dock murmered
some inaudible words.
"Wot's he a-sayin'? | can't ear" said
Turtle, looking jealousy at her across the
bed.
HES only rambling: be doesn't know
yOu," said the sister kindly, laying her hand
softly on the little suffers hot head, from
which all the brown curls had been cut
away.
'Dosen't know me?" exclaimed Turtle in
q tone of angry surprise and pain. mot know
me, as-why, II he dosen't know me-Dook,
little pal, it's Turtle. Don't you know me ?"
he added in tone of entreating anguish, that
went to the hearts of both his hearers. He
fought with himself for moment inanfully,
his ugly face convulsed with the effort then
fingiDg himself on his knees beside the bed
with one arm across his friend, he burst into
an agony of tears and sobs.
Esley gently took him by the arm and
would have drawn him away, but suddenly
Dock partly raised himself with a faint
smile. and feebly laid his thin hand on
| Turtles dishevelled head.
| 1t wandered lower till it rested on the
| boys neck ana was joined there by his other
hand.
The two boys faces met in one long kiss
made sacred by the shadow of an eternal
parting. and the glory of a love stronger than
death.
Col. Esley and lady came together out of
squalid block of buildings representing the
homes of a hundred or so OF her majesty's
subjects.
"Will you go to see him now?' said Esley
gently.
Tears rolled do @n the face of the great
| actress, whose name was figuring on ali the
bOardings and walls in London, whose career
| was The object of so much adulatOn and pas
sionate envy TO thousands.
How can ever forgive myselIY she muir
INJURED brokenly. ITO think of his suffering
all these ears, while Ito think-yes let Inc
| go now, ii it is not too late"
They took cab and we're driven rapidly
| away from the noisome slums into which
| they had penetrated for the first time.
Joyce's history was sad enough. She had
| Iul AWAY lTUu EOllE III H6I CARLY XII luUOu
| aud made mad marriage with an actor,
| which broke her parents hearts.
Taking to the life of strolling player her
| self she found the baby soon born to the
| young couple practical difficulty, which
| could only be solved one way; by parting
| from 1t as soon as possible.
The little creature Was accordingly contided
| to the care OF a woman at whose country
lodgings Joyce and her husband had stayed
during one OF their provincial engagements
with touring company Of actors.
The actress, like many others in the same
position, st1ed her mothers love with the
ambition which unfortunately for her, per
hapsl met with remarkable success
She and her husband accepted an Austral-
ian engagement for three years, and left Eng
land.
A year later news arrived from the baby's
foster mother reporting its death. A year
| later still found Joyce Il widow at twenty,
alone in the world.
On her return to England she made a
| marked success, and from that time mounted
| steadily until she reached the summit OF her
| youthful ambition. London went mad over
| the beautiful woman, who could move to
| tears or laughter with such unerring power
and infinite charm.
Her marriage with well known author.
| and her unsullied reputation gave her an
| entrance into the great world that talent
only does not always give. There were few
women in London, perhaps, whose lot
| seemed more brilliantly enviable than hers
| this day when the flaming posters announced
| her "beneft" at the Eleusis Theatre In the
| part which was the browning glory of all her
| repertory.
Yet, as she drove through the noisy streets
| with Esley, the face Of that woman whom
| thousands loved was convulsed with remorse-
| full pain for the sake Of little newspaper
| boy dying in the ward Of a hospital, in The
| savage wilderness men proudly call 1.-The
| great metropolis"
A ragged boy brushed against Esley aud
his companion as they assembled the stone
| staircase of the hospital
rs that you, lad 2"
1t was Turtle, indeed, but he burst away
| from the colonel's hand, with something be-
| tween sob and a curse, and rushed down
| the stairs with heavy uncertain steps.
| Dock was lying with his arms at his side,
aud his brown eyes shut.
What they see, no man can say, for the
ready tongue is silent and revels nothing,
and the sweet mouth Is sealed past all conjur-
| ing into speech CT any answering smile.
| The hands ON the coverlet are so thin that
| If you hold them up to the sunlight, you
| might almost see through them; but for all,
| they are held against woman's breast, they
| remain as cold as ice, and the warmth Of
| passionate love comes to them ali too late
They and the busy little brain have done
| their share of work in this world their cease
| less toll and activity meet rs deep reward of
| resi- do ever bUt CdItNUIu 6IdttlDtu his
| Abbey monument. His joys and fears and
| hopes are over; love has said its last word to
| the child that never knew a mothers kiss,
| till now 1t comes-too late.
His world has been outside the ken Of the
woman, who can only touch what was a
moment ago the labitation of spirit, once
part Of her own, now gone beyond her reach
for ever.
Nothing can touch him further"
1t was the actresses last night upon the
stage-her triumph and her everlasting fare
well to all possible triumphs yet to come.
She never revealed the reason. 1t was
woman's expiation for long years of wrong.
So Dock was after all person of greater
Importance in this worlds history than he