The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1890-05-25
ONLY A MESSENGER-BOY
A Touching Story of a Meeting
Between Mother and Son.
Written for The SUNDAY CALL.

NSEAo, madam; 1 am sorry to say that
f&k have given up all hope of his re-
kSXIS covery. All we can do now is to
alleviate his sutferings as much as possible
until the end comes"
These were the hospital physicians
words in answer to the anxious inquiry of
a sweet-faced, little old woman, as she sat
by one of the little cots, caressing poor,
curly head which was tossing feverishly on
the pillow; w A.. ,..,.
woman murmured. He saved my life,
and this is his reward-death! But God
knows best, and the gift of home in
Heaven is more precious than thousand
worlds"
She gently kissed the parched lips of the
little sufferer and m0istened his brow with
cool water, after which he seemed to rest
easier.
1t was a sweet face that lay upon the pill
low, face upon which no more than four
teen summers had left their traces. Wan
and pale it was, but upon the even features
were written only innocence and truth, and
the broad, high forehead, shaded by black
curls indicated intelligence far above that
of the common district messenger : boy.
Three days before, while he was walking
toward the office, he heard the rapid CHATTER
of horses hoOfs, and. turning hastily
around, saw a horse rushing madly down
nal was few yards from him he
noticed an old lady trying to reach
the opposite side Of the street,
but she was aged and could not
hurry sufficiently to cross before the horse
would be upon her. Quick as flash the lit
tie hero darted into the middle of the street
just in time to grasp the reins and turn the
horse aside with quick JERK OF the DIT.
The maddeDed animal reared and plunged,
and in an instant was free again, ana the
eel ofl va1 In a fay m
ments a large crowd had assembled in the
street where the horse had received It's mo-
mentary check, and the center OF attraction
and sympathy was the little messenger-boy.
He lay upon the ground, unconscious, and
from his forehead slowly trickled drops of
blood. When the horse plunged it had
struck the boys head with its sharply shod
hoof, breaking the skull and inJurlng the
brain beyond all hope of repair. He was
carried to the hospital, and the old lady,
whose life he had saved, unhesltatlngly
volunteered TO 90 with him and stay by his
bedside until he should recover or be called
away from earth.
We'll, doctor, have little boy in this
great city somewhere, and l have been
hunting for him near unto three months
now, but cannot find trace of him. When
the child was about three years old his
father died. We were very poor, and as
was too i'll to work the neighbors thought it
would be best for me to give my little boy
W stulC Uuc WIN CUllQ tdhC 6VOu NhiN VI
him aud educate him. At that time there
was an aged lady of this city stopping Ia
our neigEborhood during the summer. She
was much taken up with my little boy
Frankie was his name-and said she would
gladly take him to her home in the city and
take care Of him. For many days and nights
thought Of her kind offer, and tried TO
bring myself to think that although 1t
would almost break my heart to part from
my boy, it would be much better for him. At
- I'd a E.1, tn hi
have not seen my darling. Soon after
coming to the city the kind old lady went
to Europe for her health. Before going
she wrote me saying that my little one
would he well taken care OF until her re-
turn by some friends. That was the last
letter or word of any kind which | re-
ceived concerning my child and l think the
old lady must have died abroad, for she GER
tainly would not have caused me to suffer
SO many years Of anxiety had she ever re-
turned. The poor boy may be an outcast
now, for strangers seldom concern them
selves much about children born in poverty,
and so concluded to come to the city and
try 10 find some clew to his whereabouts,
but so far ! have not heard anything to
give me hope"
The doctor drew his hand across his
eyes, and his fingers trembled as he began
to remove the bandage from the little SUI
ferer's head preparatory to replacing 1t
with fresh one.
ont you allow me Tn attend 10 the
| bandages, doctor? / have watched you
carefully, and think / can do it now. Per-
| haps the dear little fellow will feel my hand
| on his poor head and think it is his
| mothers. Wouldn't it be better il we were
to cut off another curl from the bruised
place, so that the bandage would fit more
| closely ?"
| The gentle motherly hands carefully
| turned the curly head to one side, and more
| gently still severed with pair of scissors
| one large curl from near the spot where the
| fatal hoof had struck. The old lady bent
| her head nearer to the boys, galed for an
instant upon the spot from which the curly
| lock had been taken, and then she shrieked
| My boy! My own darling child! Look,
| doctor; there's the mark-a birth-mark-
| surely my eyes do not deceive me-. Oh, my
| God | have found him, have found him
| He gave his life to save his old mother
| frankie, my darling! Open your eyes
| Speak to mel Tell HE where you've been
| Oh, my God. will he never speak againp'
| She kissed the forehead, the eyes, the
| cheeks and lips, and then the tears flowed
| copiously from her eyes.
The physician saw that the boy was
| dying and caused the room to be vacated by
| withdrew. When he returned to the room
again he found the old woman still bending
| over the body Of her son, and when he
touched her face which was pressed closely
to the dead boys, she did not move, for
| God had united mother and son forever.
| j. Z. ToTHERoH.