Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1894-04-07

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her crouched woman in rags; she was
mad, poor creature who harmed no one.
but who nodded her head constantly, and
kept saying: "Ah, yes, misery; you may
well say 80! All, yes, misery And
this melancholy retain, uttered in such
scene, made the poor child feel as II che
should 60 mad herself She closed her
eyes that she might not see this melancho-
ly personifcation of her own despair.
At last daylight appeared. Dora woke
threw off the rug that covered
her, and rose. determined, nothwithstand-
ing her fatigue and burning fever, TO es-
cape from this dreadful place.
"Gentlemen," she said timidly, .let me
60 home 10 my mother"
Hardened as they were by the constant
occurrence 81 such dramas, the good men
understood that they had to deal with
case totally out Of the common way. But
they could not take her home yet. They
must first obtain permission. Out Of pity
for her, cab was ordered; for a crowd
had gathered at the door 10 zee the little
lame girl appear. She was driven TO the
police court, and entered the dingy room
but with cheeks red with shame
and fever. The magistrate hardly looked
up from his newspaper
The policeman began 10 read his report |:
AT 8 quarter before twelve the aforesaid
Dora de Lacy, aged twenty three, a max
er Of artificial flowers. residing with her
parents at No - Waterloo Street, attemp-
ted suicide by throwing herself into the
Thames, from which river she was rescued
Try James Williams, waterman" &c, &c.
The sitting magistrate divided his at
tention between this report and his finger
At the end, he turned sharply to the
aforesaid De Lacy, and admonished her in
well-turned periods.
1T was very shocking" he said, "it was
cowardly TO make such An attempt What
had driven her 10 such madnessf'
Dora could not answer How could she
tell III such presence the sad story Of
her love and OF her sorrowi She mur-
INJURED, with purple lips. still shiveIing
with cold, IL do not know"
Out Of all patience with what he regard
ed as wilful obstinacy. the magistrate
finally gave her permission 10 go home,
first requiring from her promise that
she would not repeat her attempt at sui
eide. She entered the cab, but her mar
tyrdom was not yet over The policeman
who was with her was too kind. and when
he took her hand, the frightened girl re-
treated TO the corner of the vehicle in
tears. When she reached her home, she
saw crowd around the door; the start
ling intelligence had preceded her, and
the neighbors were in a state Of excite
ment. At first they had heard only Of her
disappearance. Had she eloped with
Frank Floreneef De Lacy himself had
rushed into the street at an early hour
without any hat, and his wife was wild
with grief and terror. Vainly had the poor
mother searched for some trace Of her
aughter--something however trifins,
that would give clue to her departure.
She remembered, too late, her child's
silence and depression; the sadness Of the
last month following so quickly upon her
previous gaiety; and that for some days
she had not spoken of Frank.
"Dont cry" said her husband. IL will
find her."
Mrs. De Lacy wandered through her
rooms, and out upon the landing to look
from the window; she preferred TO stand
there and watch, for Dora's vacant chair
seemed TO breath silent reproaches.
Suddenly a cab stopped, and voices from
below called to her: "Your daughter is
here, safe and sound!'
Ii was indeed Dora whom she met as
cending the stairs, pale and half fsint.ng.
assisted by an unknown man. Seeing her
mother the girl smiled vacantly.
do not be frightened she said; lit is
nothing"
Her mother ran towards her. lifted her
in her arms as If she had been baby.
covered her with kisses, and overwhelmed
her with loving reproaches.
"My darlingw cried her mother, "tell
me that il is not true that you tried to kill
yourself. What is your secret sorrow
Trust your mother. my child"
Looking at her, Dora saw that Mrs. De
Lacy had aged ten years. The anxiety
and sorrow Of the last few hours had told
grievously upon her enfeebled frame
And Dora had thought herself unloved!
And that she could Slip out Of the world
unnoticed and unmissed.
When / saw your bed undisturbed this
morning. said her mother between her
not in the work-room, l tainted away.
Are you warm nowf Do you feel betterr'
and she rubbed the slender ice-cold feet
to warm them.
In the long days OF delirium that fol-
lowed Dora lived over and over again each
event Of that horrible night: If she fell
asleep, she woke with start, and cried
aloud to her mother: Hide me, mother,
hide me! am ashamed"
The magistrate, had he been there,
would have been quite certain that Dora
would never make second attempt at
suicide. But q longing for death, rest,
and peace was to be read upon her pale
face, and 'the aforesaid De Lacy" knew
that she would not have long TO wait.
The doctor called the disease of which
she was dying pneumonia; but the girl
knew better; yet it was not broken
heart that killed her. No, since that night
she had thought no more OF Frank, and
considered herself alike unworthy Of low
ing or Of being loved, for her poor life was
stained and soiled.
She was simply dying Of shame. In the
long nights Of feverish delirium, she re-
peated without a moments cessation: II
sm so ashamed! so ashamedw And when
she was somewhat calmer, she would
cover under the coverings, as il to hide
herself from all human eyes.
Near Doras bed, or at the window, sat
Mrs. De Lacy busily at work. for it is one
of the miseries of the poor that they have
not time TO grieve. They must toll on,
even in the shadow of the death that is
hourly drawing nearer to those they love.
The rich can encompass themselves about
with their sorrows, but the poor cannot.
I once knew an old woman who in the same
year lost her daughter and her husband,
two terrible blows one after the other; but
she had a large family to care for and q
farm to manage. From sunrise to sunset
she was busy. "But on Sundays" said
the widow to me, Il am happy" And
what was this woman's idea Of happiness
1t was that in the loneliness OF her room
she could pass the day on her knees, pray.
ing and weeping for her lost husband and
child.
But Mrs. De Lacy had not even Sun.
days. Remember that she was the only
bread-winner for the family, and hel
fingers were not as dexterous as heI
daughters. Medicines were expensive
and she could not deprive her husband ol
one of his comforts. Thus, at whatever
hour the girl opened her eyes she beheld
her mother at work; and when the cur.
tains Of her bed were drawn, she heard
the little metallic clink of the scissors a
theS- were laid on the table.
4 = - A.