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

child, Of the submissive and patient
woman, kept me less from sleep than
the tormenting self-reproach with
which l had thought over everything
that had done. My first patient! !
| simply groaned, and then the words OF
the poor woman came to me again:
Don't weep, doctor; you will stand be-
fore many sick bed as you have stood
here, where the Lord will not help"
had been summoned too late; | had
not been able to save the child. "YoA
will stand before many sick bed as
you have stood here hid my face in
the pillow. 1t was terrible night; the
torturing thoughts which made me SO
restless were very different from the
pleasant dreams which had encouraged
me in both my waking and sleeping
| hours.
Early on the following day an old
college friend came who had sought
me on his way through the city. He
dragged me over the crowded streets.
into the museums, into all sorts OF
restaurants. He complained of my
taciturnity. feigned a headache and
escaped the necessity of having to see
a sensational play at the Court theater.
Tired and worn out, | went at last
alone to my own room. On my way
there passedea window OF brighnf
| lighted flower shop. ! walked in and
bought a costly white camellia and
some understanding violets | went up
the five flights to the room of the poor
" omaH. / found the door unlocked
II was family lighted and little coffin
s.c.ad il. the middle Of the room. In it
lay t5,, !hild dressed IN white gown.
T'.a RI ot.)n on the hat on the wall had
be,L n.st,e into two little bows, tho
my.t,e wreath lay on the blonde hair,
ana the Geranium was laid upon her
breaht. VI the table stood a lamp and
the o;e1 ADl,g book lay near by it.
lai;! .hG beautiful white flower in
the lit',e n:otionless hand, and put the
bouque. Of !o vers on the quiet breast;
then l"o3ei. st the open book. The
page wa. tIrrel at an old song which l
had learned 81; school, and had soon
forgotten.
laid thu book away signing. The
words which, lad read the awful still
ness, the peacefully resting child, op-
pressed my heart; ] went home, aftec
asking in the house Ter the hour of in
terment
went to bed early was very tired,
and all disquiet left NE. And, as il
called forth by strange power, the
words of an ardent prayer flowed over
my lips; the prayer that God might
bless me in my difficult position, and
might change my concaited assurance
in my own skill into a submissive trust
in His protection, whenever my little
knowledge and my earnest wishes
would not avail; that | might hope for
Gods comfort at all sick-beds where l
must, as on yesterday, stand helpless
Early in the morning awaited the
little coffin in the courtyard. man
bore it, the mother in her poor black
clothing followed. She pressed my
hand and gave me a thankful look
when she saw that mad Joined the lit
tie procession. The way was not long.
This streets We're almost empty; the air
was very mild for November AS the
iron gate of the burial ground opened,
the weeping woman dropped her head
upon her breast Reside the open grave
stood a clergyman.
II have made it my duty as long as
my strength lasts to give last blessing
to all the dead of my parish" said he,
softly, as my astonished look met his.
Dear, kind priest you did not suspect
how the plain, homely words of bless
ing which you spoke over the little cof-
fin gave comfort to the poor woman,
and to myself as well!
In Gods hama everlasting rest is
found"
Il know it, | know it, sobbed the
woman, and she bent her pale face over
the hand of the young priest
On the evening of the same day l
went to my relatives. All the older
members of the family were absent.
Only Cousin Marie was at home to re-
ceive me. We sat at the window and
let the moonlight shine upon US, and
then | told her how | had visited my
first patient and what | had learned
thereby of value to my calling. Marie
said nothing during my confession,
but suddenly felt myself EN- braced
by her arms. She looked at me with
moist eyes.
Look, Max! She said. Now you
know well in what respect you failed
in your profession. Thank God that
You have gained this knowledge through
your first patient Now think that
you will become an able physician, who
will always do good, even when his
own skill shall not avail"
l kissed my cousin.
And now, what do yol, mean?' l
said. Have you the courage to be-
come the wife of such a doctor?"
She smiled in the midst of her tears,
and we were betrothed at last
Fortune willed it that on the next
day | should again be called to attend
a child, who was very sick with the
Group. was also fortunate to be able
to save il. Much grace has God since
then allowed to be bestowed through
my hands to the sick and the poverty
stricken. My profession became dearer
and dearer to me. The mother of the
child who had been my first patient
soon moved into my house to attend to
the management of the household until