The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1893-09-21

ly-clad woman before me. Out of her
haggard and charcoal-blackene face
looked pair OF great dark eyes be-
seechingly at me.
Doctor" said the woman, in trem-
bling voice, doctor, be merciful, O.,
please. My little Marie is so sick"
The name atoned for the woman's I'M
promising appearance, which conceded
badly with my latest dreams.
who are you? Who sent you to me?"
/ ashed
mo one," the woman answered
quickly and in low voice. 20 doctor.
do come! / have been carrying coal all
day from the wagon into a house near
by. live over there in the courtyard.
My child has been sick since yesterday.
/ found her so much worse that | came
to you at once"
Ihesitated somewhat; the disenchant-
ment was so great.
The woman wiped her face with her
blackened hand
1t was a face which already showed
many burrows caused by sorrow and
trials.
Il should have gone for the charity
physician she said, YEARLY, but
your servant, doctor, is child of the
shoemaker of our courtyard, and he
has told every one that you are such a
good man. Oh, do help my little girl!''
decided to go with the woman. At
ter all, one is man, and most of all is
he man who has learned to do duty.
So went with her, after ! had gath
cred together the necessary instruments
with pomposity which astonished and
half shamed even myself.
Across the street we took our course
into great courtyard lying behind a
row of houses. Then she led re up
five flights of stairs, each one darker
and sleeper than the last, and finally
through badly-fitting door into lit
tie room with slanting roof and little
windows. On a miserable but neatly
arranged bed lay child of perhaps
fourteen months. Her limbs were
fever heated and her eyes were wander
ing and inexpensive.
The woman bent down to the bed
side. ''She does not know met She
does not know mer' she moaned.
The child coughed. 1t was a Group
Gus cough of the worst sort. | tore
Leaf from my book and wrote my first
prescription as a practising physician.
'To the nearest apothecary," / said.
The woman looked at me, embar-
raised.
Can l take it to the one in the
KONG strasse?" she said.
mo, no." | cried; sit requires the
greatest haste. Why will you not 60
to the apothecary in this street,"
The woman Redeemed perceptibly in
spite of the charcoal dust. Finally she
stammered; The apothecary in the
KONG -strasse knows me; / carry coal
there, and he will, perhaps have no
money"
A heavy tear dropped on the paper in
her hand.
''These people who can pay no ply
stefan and no druggist" said l, angrily,
but inaudibly. | took out some money
and said aloud: There, take that and
go quickly"
The woman kissed the hand of her
child, and then, before could stop her,
she kissed mine also, and fastened
away. | looked around the room for a
seat. A rocking chair. red chest, an
old table, some miserable dishes on a
poor, cold oven, which occupied the
place of a hearth, comprised all the
furniture. Hanging on the wall in a
corner was a threadbare wooden gar
ment, and also child's cloak and lit
tie hat with ribbon around it a fin
gers breadth wide; on Il bracket hang
ing next to the little window was a
withered myrtle tree. red geranium
and hymn book, with disgusting vel
low edges That was everything that
the room held.
| sat down beside the little girl. She
was apparently well cared for. Her
limbs were round and pretty, her golden
halr soft and curly. She was uncon-
scious: her blue eyes stared straight
before her. as if she were looking into
the far, unknown distance. The room
was cold | went to the oven and
found only some splinters of wood.
There were so few that did not at
tempt to build fire. | sat down and
waited for the woman and the medi-
cine. Ever and anon my glance would
wander around the miserable room
Here was poor, hard working woman,
who carried charcoal on the street,
while her child lay in want and sick
ness, and yet she loved her baby ten
derby.
Suddenly the thought shot through
me that could not save the child. |
had been called too late. | had not
resolution enough to try any doubtful,
energetic effort to save her, to snatch
her from the arms of death. My heart
was heavy. sprang to the door ana
listened for the footsteps of the mother
She came finally; my reproachful look
met her downcast one. There We're
so many people in the store. A woman
like myself did not dare to press for
ward"
An hour of torment went by. The
medicine availed nothing. Little Marie
could not swallow it. An operation on
the throat was of no use. The child
died, died before my eyes on the bosom
of the mother, bowed down by her
grief.
She Gnally looked up in terrified
manner: a tear had fallen on her hand.