The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1893-09-14

! W you at once.
Ihesitated somewhat; the disenchant-
raent was so great
The woman wiped her face with her
blackened hand.
1t was 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 q 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 girlr'
| decided to 60 with the woman. Al
ter all, one is d 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
| hall shamed even myself.
! Across the street we took our course,
into great courtyard lying behind a
row OF houses Then she led me up
! FIVE flights Of stairs, each one darker
and sleeper than the last, and finally
through badly-itting door into lit
tie room with slanting roof and little
windows. On 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 me! She
does not know me!'' she moaned.
The child coughed- It was a Group
GUS cough of the worst sort. l tore
Leaf from my book and wrote my first
prescription as practising physician.
ITO the nearest apothecary," said.
The woman looked at me, embar-
raised.
"Can ], take it to the one in the
Konig-strasse?" she said.
mo, no." I cried; ut 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: 1.-The apothecary in the
Konigstrasse knows me; carry coal
there, and he will, perhaps-I have no
money"
A heavy tear dropped on the paper in
her hand.
''These people who can pay no ply
sician and no druggist" said 1, 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. I looked around the room for a
seat. A rocking chair. red chest, an
old table, some miserable dishes on
poor, cold oven, which occupied the
place of hearth, comprised all the
furniture. Hanging on the wall in
corner was a threadbare wooden gar
ment, and also child's cloak and a lit
tie hat with q ribbon around it a fin
gers breadth wide; on bracket hang
ing next to the little window was a
withered myrtle tree, a red geranium
and hymn book, with disgusting yell
low edges. That was everything that
the room held.
Lsat down, beside the little girl She
was apparently well cared for. Her
limbs were round and pretty, her golden
hair 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. l 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. l
had been called too late. l 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 and
listened for the footsteps of the mother.
She came finally; my reproachful look
met her downcast one. There were |
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 finally looked up in terrified
tear had fallen on her hand,
but she had not wept
You are weeping, doctor" she said,
softly. ''Ah, don't weep, sir; you will
stand before many a sick bed as you
have stood here, where the Lord win
not help"
She looked fxedly at the little corpse
81 have loved her very dearly. have
lone for her what l could in poverty.
Whenever l came home from my work
found her SO pretty, so charming
For hours she would lie in bed or on
the floor and play with almost nothing,
and she laughed for JOY when | came
home God has taken her from me. He
owes ,her more than l do. but, oh,
shall be so lonesome"
l pressed the woman's hand, but
,ould not speak. / dropped some
money on the table, and silently went
put. At home I laid my instrument
,ase away. and sat down disneartened.
could not eat supper. went to bed
md tried to get To sleep. Bat the
picture of the gloomy attic, Of the dead
,hild, of the submissive and patient
kept me less from sleep than
he tormenting seif-reproach with
SIch I haI <var (