The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1895-11-20
The Doctors Recipe.
BY GEORGE MANvILLE FEM.

IuOuKn DIS tNGt otAf wv
ing; and he trotted along beside me,
chstterine away as II he instlnctivelv
knew that all his troubles were passed,
!, while | felt very thoughtful and strange.
"Willie.u said at last, did your
mother tell you to come to me!'
lie shook his head.
ether why did you conner"
"Cause mas very bad; and she's often
told me that when 4 was SO i'll you came
like a good angel and made me well.
"Did-did she say good angel, .wiilie9"
1 said huskily.
He nodded.
My mind was made up and / walked on
80 fast that the little fellow was obliged
to run by my side.
Five minutes later he had led me up to
the bedside, where, pale and CHASTITY
looking, his mother lay-the same bed
beside which / had knelt three years be-
fore. Her eyes were half closed, and l
went up so silently that she had not
heard my coming, 30 that ] had time to
glance round and indorse my precon-
ceived opinion of what was really the
matter. There, upon a chair by the bed
SIDE, was the new dress upon which she
bad been at work for their daily bread,
till utter weakness had compelled her to
desist.
The little fellow crept softly to the
bedside frowning, and holding up his
finger TO me TO keep silence, and then,
with the thoughtless incongruity of a
child, he began softly to stroke the soft
brown hair which lay abundantly upon
the pillow.
She uttered a faint cry. and caught
him TO her breast.
sob, my boyl my boyi" ana then,
with widely staring eyes, she gasped out:
"Doctor?p
Eyes, madam" / said, roughly. evil
lie knew better than you did. 1t was
puita time 1 camel
She uttered n cry nov OF horror and
dread as she stretched out her hand wild
ly 10 me.
Jam / going to die? No, no, not yet
--for his sake"
! took the hand and held it in mine as
j felt the weak pulse.
81 must know; tell mo the whole
truth" she cried
cutter weakness - exhaustion - pro-
duced by overwork and neglect OF self,
even to sending for medical ala when
you felt that you were falling fast. Am
i right, madsm?O j said, and 1 pointed
10 her unfinished work.
She looked at me wildly and as II APP
peGling for mercy, and IL l had not kept
TO my hard, firm way, 1 should have
made myself look stupid for l never felt
SO much moved in my life.
81 have tried so hard, 7" she murmured
at last. 81 must not die; save me-, doe
tor-save me, for my poor boys sake.
nodded. 1 could not trust myself 10
speak, and i sat down, took out my
pocketbook and pencil and wrote slowly
in a large round hand, which a sick per-
~son~ould easily read, my recipe, which
/ honestly believed would relieve the ter
I fible-stEsin-upon-her mind and Work 4
cure.
This briefly done, i tore 1t of an6 held
ii to her, saying:
"You are n%otIbound to take this Mrs.
White; for God knows, whatever you re-
ply, L will do my best to. save your life
for Willie's sake"
,,My voice shook at those last words, and
i saw how keenly her great, wide eyes
were trying TO read me through and
through.
Then she glanced at the recipe, and
held out feeble, trembling hand.
"For Wille's sakel'' she said, family.
And her boy crept closer, looking won
deringly at US both as he placed his
head beside his mothers, softly passing
his arm beneath her neck.
''For Willie's sake" / repeated, sand
the rest will come. Willie, p" 1 said, twill
that other arm go round my neck, too?"
In a moment II was there, the child
linking us together in an honest love, and
for a few moments / could not speak.
Then i found my voice again.
"Willie boy" whispered, "can you
say father TO me now?n
He misconstrued my meaning. His
arms.slipped from round our necks, were
reverently placed. together n he said,
softly:
"Our Father which art in Heaven"
Then he broke down with a sob and cried
out: son, please, please make my W
dear IN well!'
The boys prayer was heard. Our boys
prayer-the strong, manly lad we loo
upon with so much pride, for he Is Is
now. ! have no other child than the
one / saved from death.
THE END.1