The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1895-06-10
INCURABLE.
By I. zANGWILL.
fcopyrieht, 1895. by the Author. I

Copyright, 1895, by the Author.
Cast of among the dead, Like the slain that
lie in the grave. whom thou rememberest no
more. and they are cut of from thy hand
Thou hast laid me in the lowest pit, in dark
places. in the deeps. Thy wrath heth hard
upon me- and thou hast afflicted me with all
thy waves. Thou hast put mine acquaintance
far from me ;stbQu hast made me an abemina-
tion unto them. I am*shut up. and cannot
come forth. Mine eye wasteth away by reason
of affection. have called daily upon thee, O
Lordi 1 have spread forth my hands unto
thee.-Eighty- eighth Psalm.
There was a restless air about the
refuge. In few minutes the friends of
the patients would be admitted. The in
curables would hear the latest gossip of
the Ghetto, for the world was still very
much with these abortive lives, avid of
sensations, Jewish to the end. 1t was
an unpretentious institution-two cor
ner houses knocked together-near the
east lung Of London. supported mainly
by the poor at a penny q week. anG
scarcely recognized by the rich, SO that
paraplegia and vertigo and rachitis and
dozen other hopeless diseases knocked
hopeiesslyat its narrow portals. But it
was a model institution all the same,
and the patients lacked for nothing ex-
cept freedom from pain. There was even
miniature synagogue for their spirit
ual needs, with the women's oompart-
ment religiously rallied off from the
mems, as i these grotesque ruins of sex
might still distract each others devo-
lions.
Yet the rabbis knew human nature.
The sprightly hydrocephalous paralytic,
Leah, ha6 had the chair she inhabited
carried down into the mems sitting
room to beguile the moments and was
smiling fascinatingly upon the deaf
blind man who had the Braille Bible at
his fingers ends and read on as stolidly
as St. Anthony. Mad Mo had strolled
vacuously into the ladies' ward, and,
indifferent to the pretty. white aproned
Christian nurses. was lettering by tho
side Of weird, Ratchet faced cripple,
with stiletto shaped nose supporting
big speotacles. Like most Of the pa
tents, she was up and dressed. Only a
few Of the white pallets ranged along
the walls were occupied.
.'Leah says she'd be quite happy il
she could walk like you. +" said Mad Mo
in complimentary tones. ''She always
says Milly walks SO beautiful She says
you can walk the whole length Of the
garden Miily, huddled in her chair,
smiled miserably.
''You'r re crying again, Rachel" pro-
tested dark eyed, bright faced dwarf
in excellent English as she touched her
friend s withered hand. "You are in
the blues again. Why, that page is all
blistered. -
"No; I feel so nice," said the sad
eyed Russian in her quaint, musical ac-
cent ''You sail not t'ink cry because
am not happy. When I read sad things
Like my lifo-den only I am happy. :"
The dwarf gave short laugh that
made her pendent earrings osoillate. 81
thought you were brooding over your
love affairs" she said
''Mel'' cried Rachel 81 lost too
young my leg to be in love. No; it is
Psalm lxxxyiii that Ibrood over. L am
afflicted and ready to die from youth
up. Yes; was only girl when I had
to go to Konigsberg to find a doctor to
cut off my leg. Lover and friend hast
thou put far from me, and mine ac-
quaintanoe into darkness. %
Her face shone ecstatic.
"Hush." whispered the dwarf, with
warning nudge and aslight nod in the
direction of a neighboring water bed, on
which a pale, rigid, middle aged wom-
an lay with shut sleepless eyes.
"S'e cannot understand Englis, said
the Russian girl proudly.
Don't be so sure. Look how the
nurses here have picked up Yiddishl'
Rachel shook her head inoredulously.
&'Sarah is Polls woman she said.
"For years dey are in England. and dey
learn noding.''
'Ich bin krankl krank. krank!"
suddenly moaned shriyeled Polish
GRANDMOTHER, as if to corroborate the
girls contention, She was squatting
mopkeylike on her bed, every now and
again murmuring her querulous burden
Of sickness and jabbering at the nurses
to shut ali the windows. Fresh air she
objected to as vehemently, as if it were
butter or some other heterodox dainty.
Hard upon her grooming came blood
ourdling screams from the room above,
sounds that reminded the visitor he was
not in Barnum show; that the mon
strosities were genuine. Pretty Sister
Margaret-not yet ndurated-thrilled
with pity as before her inner vision
rose the ashen. perspiring face of the
palsied sufferer, who sat quivering all
the long day in an easy chair. her swol-
len, jelly1ike hands resting on cotton
wool pads, an air pillow between her
knees. her whole frame raoked at fire.
quent intervals by fierce spasms of pain,
her only diversion faint, blurred refec-
tions Of episodes of the street in the
glass of framed picture, yet morbidly
suspicious Of slow poison in her drink
and cursed with an inourable vitality.
Meantime Sarah lay SILENT bitter
thoughts moving beneath her white, i'm
passive face like salt tides below frozen