The Meeker herald., 1892-10-22
horse stumbled and .pIashed along

hands laid lightly on her escorts
shoulders to prevent her falling,
nudsed star-winked her wise eye
and made prophecy, while the stars
biinked ard made note OF it.
The patient was no worse, for
tunatey, and was soon restiiia easily
thanks to the doctors skill. he
fingered longer than he usually did
when paying n professional call, but,
then-wtli he couldn't help it. He
looked tenderly at the shoulders OF
his coat for the print of finger tips,
and, although there were none. he
felt the pressure OF those hands on
his sleeves Tor long, long TIME. He
retired almost Immediately, after
reaching home, but did u great deal
mors thinking than sleeping.
The next mofrtitis Uncle Joe paid
an early visit TO the doctors. lie
asked about their little journey to-
gether, the health OF the patient and
young lady, and finally asked him
how he liked the little girl, and the
doctor frankly declared his admira-
ton and deep friendship for her
which so delighted the old man that
he arose, gave him firm pressure OF
the hand and promised to treat to
cigars next time they met III
town.
"Shes no kin OF mine, doctor,
though | wish she was. I've been
here so long that everybody calls me
uncle, and she does like the rest. I've
known her since she WAS n young
baby. Poor child, her life amt been
all sunflowers an blossoms. 1t has
had many II brier bush in it, i tell
you. Her pa and ma both died be-
fore she was l 4. and all they left her
was their hot!ss and the scrap OF
ground it's settin' on.
"The first thing she did was to rent
out her house, except the two back
rooms, which size used herself, to II
family she knew well, then put up II
seamstress' sign. and in no time she
was overrun with work. You sec,
every one knew her and felt very sorry
for her; then she sewed so neat an
gave 'em such u fit that folks got
| split an didn't want err wear nothing
| lest she made 'em. And when any
| body was sick she always did her
| share of nursing, an she does yet.
| She is young for such work, but she S
| better'n many who's Older.
You'll run across her, doctor,
again soon; she's always dom some
| thin for somebody, an SEWN faster II
ever at night to ketch up with her
work; An you'll conclude before six
months, rs old Joe Bennett did n long
time ago, that if there was more wo-
men like her in this world men
wouldn't nave to die to 90 to heaven.
When my poor wife was on her death
bed Bessie never left her for II mint.
No, there she stayed, night and day,
doing everything she could till-till
there wasn't nothin' more to be
done"
Uncle Joe pulled his hat over his
eyes, nodded without speaking, and
went out OF the door. DIR, Harr-
mixed number OF vials OF mediCi,
and made his usual round OF PROBES
sional visits. lie spent nm hour Il
the company OF Bessie, and that even
ing lie droveup to her gate with TIN
same little woman sitting beside hun
II pnd been II day CT rather dee,
ed pleasantly.
The young physician met his young
friend many times among the sick OF
poorer class OF people, and always
found her doing good in some way,
just as Uncle j oepredicted. And many
II time did he take her home i'll his
buggy, and almost as frequently ht
drove up to her gate and took her
for drive, lust for the pleasure 1t
gave him to be with her.
On the evenings when Bessie felt
most fatigued from her hard day.
work the doctor was sure to Join her
in the little sitting-room, and together
they'd keep up the fire, chat and be
merry. And you lnay be sure tired
feet and needle -pricked fingers were
forgotten. In the summer they sa,
out on the corner piazza, famed each
other, killed mosquitoes and wert
happy. g..
no them the four seasons, illumi
mated with rays OF hope, Joyous
with faith and love, wert
one beautiful summer day and
slipped by almost as speedily. II
was winter again and the sitting-roou
and fire were in demand. 1t had beer
an unhappy week for both OF them
Mr.. Harris had left town suddenly
without word to any one, nor die
he write during his absence. Gossip:
OF the little village wagged then
tongues as over n toothsome bit o
scandal. Bessie walked busily witt
her head high, her eyes bright, her rec
lips smiling, and no one knew thu
sobs deep down in the heart under
her bodice.
When night came she still tried to
work, but she did not accomplish
much. The sewing had been put to
gether wrong, the tension" was too
tight, then too loose, the tfreat
tangled and broke, the needle snapped
on seam, the machine screeched ant
worked hard, the band became un
fastened and the wheel needed oiling
There was something the matter will
everything Her piece OF sewing wal
to be delivered the next day, ant
now it would not he finished.
Her head began to ache and so die
her heart. Everything went wrong
the world and everybody in it. so i
seemed to her as she sat down nea
the hearth with her face in her hands
thinking OF the unpleasant little hap
peninps OF the week. And in this atti
tude the doctor found her n shor
while later. He saw the trace OF tear
on her cheeks, and without askin
permission he drew her within hi
arms, held her there a moment in sill
lence, then, looking fondly in her face
said softly:
Bessie, telegram announcing m,
| G., erlJat, death lnsfappl m