The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1898-08-23

tered the room.
God help us and save us, mavour-
neen, must get one of the neighbors to
go for DR.. McArdle. Won't We take a
sup o. tay, me darlint. or can't | do
somethin' for ye? I'll lay cold cloth
on her forehead. It's burnin'."
As the mother hurried TO the sink to
wet towel she heard the tramping OF
many feet on the stairs below, and then
loud rapping at the doors of the apart
ments of the four families on each floor.
AS she was returning to her daughters
bedside the footsteps came nearer.
There seemed to be at least half dozen
men in the party.
Rat-tat-tati
They were at Mrs. Bertelli's own door
now.
who's there?" she asked, with some
little perturbation.
Board of health inspectors" came
the prompt answer. "Open the doorl"
She turned the key in the lock, the
door was flung open, and a stalwart
member of the sanitary board stepped
into the room, followed by a tall, kindly
faced man, enveloped in an ulster. After
him came others. until the small room
was crowded with men.
Anybody sick here?" asked the man
in the ulster.
ME daughter, sir" faltered Mrs. Ber-
tell.
Let US have look at her. Where is
she?"
Mrs. Bertelli pointed to the little bed
room.
"She's in there, SIR" she said, in a
voice broken With apprehension of evil.
The big policeman picked up the lamp
and led the way into the apartment, the
man in the ulster following A few mo-
ments of silence in the darkness, and
then the black figure of the tall man was
outlined in the doorway against the
lamp light.
'Dr. Raymond" he cried. in authori-
tative tones, there's a well-developed
case here. Send out a call for the
wagon. Officer, let no one except our
party come in or go out of this room I'M
til it has been fumigated. Let me have
some vaccine points"
''In the name of God, man, what is the
matter?" cried Mrs. Bertelli, terror
stricken.
your daughter has malignant small
pox," answered the man in the ulster,
who was the chief inspector. "and we
are about to remove her to the hospital
on North Brother Island"
"Oh, for the love o. God, sir, don't
take her away from me. She's all have
in the world to love-me joy, me pridel
If We take her away from me she'll die
in the pest house. oh, my"
"Stand aside now, my good woman.
Wen take good care of her. You
wouldn't imperil the health Of the 200
people in this house, would you?p
Day after day, regardless of pouring
rain, driving snow or frosty blast, an
Irishwoman, followed by short but
brawny Italian. entered an Office in the
health department building. and stood
aside until the last person had been at
tended to by the clerk, or until the kind
hearted policeman detailed to the place
had approached, and asked the couple
their business. Then with sorrowfiul
voice the woman would say:
Eve had little Fyurl, sir, who was
sick and they took her away from US,
and stint her across the river Mebbe,
sir, we've got some word from her to-
day. Mebbe We could find out for us
how she's gettin' along"
whats the trouble2" ,
Smallpox, sir" ~
"Huml Hospital for contagious dis
eases, North Brother Island. What
name?" -aa,s
MARY Bertelli, sir"
"No. No word to-day
THANK you, sir. No word, Tony.
God pity u.s." and they would walk
away. -sss 80
In the hurry and hustle of a great
city's charitable bureau there is but lit
tie time to answer the simple inquiries
of simple souls, and no doctors bull
letins are received from the great isl
and hospitals recording the condition
of the thousands of humble sufferers;
but there was look of dumb, patient
slitl Ou the races anu dltltuQtS Oh the
Bertellis that touched the hearts of the
clerk and the policeman.
One bleak day the couple entered, and
in answer to the policeman's questions
the clerks finger running down the
page of his register stopped suddenly
and he said. in low tone:
Hum! The little girl is across the
river"
His tone was not low enough to es-
cape an anxious mothers ear. She
,lasped her hands. the tears of JOY ran
Down her cheeks, and she sobbed:
GOD and His Blessed Mother be
praised. Do you hear, Tony? Our
little gyurl is comm home"
"You don't understand, my poor |
woman" said the big policeman in
husky voice toned to a whisper. "Your
little girl has gone home. Gone across
he river, to a home where there's no
more sickness or trouble. Quick. Tom, |
Hand me a glass of water. The poor
souls tainted, God help Peter
'cn's Magazine.
Opinions of N Pessimist.