The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1896-06-25

! telegram summOning me to the very
place from which [ had received the
| medicine, and dispatching Il note to-
Grace to inform her that / would not
return before evening, caught the aext
outgoing train and departed
| Fortune seemed to have smiled upon
me, for the business was III regard
to a legacy that had une1 pectedly been
left me, and that would be q very time
Ely assistance to me at this juncture;
and after transacting that business sat
isfactorily I set out for home, first,
however, stopping at my friends drug
store to obtain an additional supply Of
the drug he had sent me-
/ thought his greeting was unusually
demonsnative, but his. first question
made my heart stand still.
Did you get my telegram 2" he
asked.
mo. What for?' / asked in turn.
Good Godp' he eiaculated-''then I
have brought ruin upon you. I discoy-
cred five minutes after it was sent that
the clerk had made mistake and put
up poison II your patient has taken
it, nothing can save her.
For a moment was conscious of a.
blind impulse to dash myself down.
somewhere and end my miserable life,
then the next thing / knew l was run
ming at full speed for the train. I
caught one going out, sprung, for the
last car, swung half way back from it,
but dragged myself UP by main force,
in time. 1t was an express train. but
1T seemed to crawl. and when at last
reached our station I was shaking as
If in an ague fit Alighting, I ran,
stumbled, fell, picked myself up again,
and struggled on somehow, until my pa
tents house was reached-then for a
moment paused, not daring to ring the
bell. But [ must know the worst, and
l rung. The door was opened-Grace
stood before me, her expression re-
veallng to me what my own appearance
must be-but one awful thought was
paramount just then.
"Your mother!'' 1 gasped.
is sleeping quietly She answered.
And the medicine-did you give it
to her?'
She must have OWNED something by
this time. for she answered with con
scious emphasis:
mot a drop" and then I sunk, half
fainting, on the chair in the hall.
THANK God!' was all I could utter
then when my breath came back to me
could only stretch out my hand and
falter: ''Tell me-"
1T was this way" she answered
beginning to tremble in her turn, 81
had it all fixed, when mother woke and
called for me, and with the glass in
my hand. was hurrying to her room,
when caught my foot in something.
tripped and fell and the entire con
tents were gone. The other medicine
was used up, Also and mother was call
ing for more-nervous lest too long a
time had elapsed since the last dose.
l remembered you said it was slightly
sweet. [ thought of her singular faith
IN you, and expected you to come soon
agaln-so not knowing what else to do,
l filled the tumbler with water put in
little sugar, and gave it to her She
declared it made her feel better at once
and as you delayed coming 1 had to
give 1T to her again and again-but
do really believe she is very much bet
ter
Thank God!" calculated again, and
then told her
L thought she would have tainted
at first. then she burst into tears and
throwing her arms around nv neck.
Wept away her excitement on my bo-
som.
1t was fortunate no one interrupted
us, and when she was quiet, I drew
forth the medicine my friend had put
up for me with his own hands though
in my excitement at the time I had
not known it.
BY the time had prepared it nv pa
tient was awake again, and sitting be-
side her, administered it myself. It's
effect was all my friend had predicted
for it; Mrs. Willis cure was rapid and
phenomenal, and I woke from that long
struggle with poverty and obscurity to
find myself famous. My practice grew
by the day; Mrs. Willis always spoke
Of me as her benefactor. and when
three months later asked her for her
daughters hand, it was given willingly.
With fame and fortune. a lovely
wife, and the confidence of my patients
I am now happy and prosperous man,
but never cease to look back with
thankfulness to that lucky fall that not
only secured for me a wife, but saved
me from the lifelong remorse, horror
and agony of having taken a human
life.