The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1897-05-05

Deeh blck since yesterday, ana found
her so much worse when I hurried
home for minute Just now"
hesitated somewhat, the disap.
pointment was so great. The woman
wiped with her grimy hand face that
already showed the traces of tears.
She sobbed painfully.
II suppose 1 ought to call in the
charity doctor but your servant is 0
son of the cobbler in our court, and
he has told all the neighhors that you
were so kind-hearted. Oh, help my
little grill"
"Well, of course, the woman must
be helped. was human, and surely
knew what was due to humanity. Sc
l went with her, after first taking ont,
with an importance that surprised and
half-shamed me, most of the necessary
instruments of physician.
Across the street to great court
lying behind long row of houses, up
five flights, each darker and sleeper
than the last, through an ill-fitting
door into little chamber with q slop.
ing ceiling and one tiny window, and
there on poor but neat bed, with
feverish limbs, and wandering, uncon-
scious eyes, lay a child about fourteen
months old. The woman knelt down
by the bed.
"She doesn't know me any more, "
she moaned.
The child coughed hoarsely. That
was Group of the worst kind. tore a
leaf from my blank-book and wrote
my first real prescription.
''Go to the nearest apothecary's, "
1 said.
She looked at mo with some embar.
rassment. "Can't 1 take it to King
streetP" she asked.
''No, indeed" cried. "Why do
you not wish to go to the apothecary
in this streetP"
The women redeemed visibly in spite
of the coal dirt. 81 think" she STAN
mered, ''at the Eagle Pharmacy, in
King street, they may know me.
carry coal there, and perhaps the will
I have no money" A large tear fell
onto the paper i'll her hand.
"Ob, these people who can't pay for
doctor or medicine either I" l said,
impatientlY, to myself. | took out
some money and said aloud: "There,
take that and hurry!"
The woman pressed her lips on the
little ones hand, and then, before 1
could stop her, on mine, and hastened
away.
1 looked around the room for q seat.
A poor chair, rough box, an old
table, some cheap kitchen utensils on
the low, cold stove, which took the
place of range; in one corner, hang.
ing on the wall, threadbare wooden
dress, and near it a child's gown and
little hat trimmed with q blue rib
bon; on the narrow shelf near the
tiny window curled myrtle plant, o
scarlet geranium, and a hymn book
with bright gilt edges; that was all
that the room contained.
l brought up the chair and sat
down near the little sick girl. She
was evidently we'll nourished; her
little limbs were plump and shapely,
the golden hair soft and curly. She
breathed painfully, but she was not
conscious; and her blue eyes stared
straight before her, as if she were
looking into distant, unknown coun-
try. 1t was cold in the room. L went
to the stove, but found only a few
chips-too few to build fire. So 1
sat down and waited for the woman
and the medicine.
Again and again my glance wan
dered about the poverty stricken
room. A poor, Woodworking woman
who carried coal on the street, while
her child lay sick and suffering and
yet she certainly loved her little one
tenderly. Suddenly q thought shot
through my mind that I should not
be able to save the child; that per-
haps l had not been decided enough
to take on my own responsibility the
extreme and energetic measures which
would have wrested the little sufferer
from death. Ny heart grew hot as l
hurried to the door and listened for
the mothers footsteps.
There she Was at last. To my re-
lSroachful look she only answered,
'"There were so many people
in the store. Folks like me must
stand back"
An hour of torture passed. The
medicine did no good; little Mary
could not swallow 1t. Neither did it
avail when, with trembling heart, but
a steady hand, used the knife on the
helpless throat. The little
golden-haired girl died-died before
my eyes on the lap of her stricken
mother.
The woman looked up as if startled
when tear fell on to her hand, for
she had not wept. "You are crying,
Doctor2 Oh you must not do that. |
You will Eaye to stand by SO many |
'Ick beds where God sends no relief"
She looked earnestly at the little
body. 81 loved her so. l did every.
hing for her that could, being SO
poor. When l came home from my
iirty work l always found her so
pretty, SO loving. For hours she
would lie on the bed or SIT on the
toor and play with almost nothing,
and then she would laugh for Joy
when l came home. God has taken
ler (; He loved her better than but
oh, how lonely it will be for me I"
l pressed the poor woman's hand
could not speak, but l laid some
money on the table aud went out
ioftly. Once at home, 1 laid my case
't instruments away, and sat down
overwhelmed. could eat no supper;
L