The Norfolk weekly news., 1900-05-03

YOUNG NURSE APPROACHED THE BED.
and again, but it hasn't quieted her. l
am afraid She is going to die, and l
haven't got used to seeing them die yet.
oh, wish the doctor would come!'
''If you are going on like this" said
the old nurse, you'd better give up at
once and take in plain sewing for liv-
ing. You'll never make decent nurse"
The girl interrupted her with an i'm
patient gesture.
Listen" said she. "It's enough to
break your heart to hear her talk"
Nurses have no business with
hearts," asserted the old nurse. "Give
her some more medicine"
"The days have been SO long" moan
ed the woman, turning her head, heavy
with tawny hair, from side to side,
"and the nights have been SO long with
out you! Are you there? Have you
come back? 1t is dark. l can't see.
When l look up, see only spider webs
thick in one corner. They spread and
spread. The whole world seems to be
filled with spider webs" And she shud-
dered.
The girl dropped some medicine in a
spoon and, placing her strong young
arm beneath the woman's shoulders,
raised her up.
'There now," she said soothingly.
"Won't you take this medicine? Take
it for me, please. Won't yOu?"
The woman shook her head.
'No, no!' she murmured. "Let me
lie right still and rest. l am SO tired.
Put my head back on the pillow.
can't do anything with it myself. 1t
doesn't seem to belong to me some
how or other. 1t seems to belong to
somebody else.
1T is all wrong, this head of mine,"
she went on by and by-"all wrong.
DO you know why? 1t was because
wrote stories. So many stories had to
come out of it a week-they had to, or
l couldn't live-and that was what
allied it. The brain was Overworked.
1t couldn't stand the pressure. And l
was doing SO well with my work, too.
Jean"
'Who is jean" asked the old nurse.
81 don't know. She talks of him con-
stantly and to him. He is her husband
or her sweetheart, l can't tell which.
And he is dead-that is, sometimes
think he is dead, and then again /
think he isn't"
The woman smiled family.
''If you were here, you would be
proud of me-" she said; "really you
would, but now that you are gone
there Is no one who cares. Isn't that
very hard-to have to work and work
and work and then to have nobody in
all the wide world who cares for your
success? You might almost as well
not succeed-quite as well, sometimes
think. Don't you, Jean"
81 wish she wouldn't talk to him
like that" said the girl tremblingly.
Il imagine | see the wrath of him
standing here by her side"
'"TO be a successful nurse" remark
ed the elder woman, you must leave
imagination out of the question alto
gether and deal with plain facts"
The plaint of the invalid once more
filled up the silence.
''Think Of stopping at bookstore
and finding your story in magazine"
she said, then coming to the house
and saying at the dinner table, Il have
new story out because you must tell
1t to somebody, you know. | don't sup
pose there ever was a soul in the world
that didn't reach out now and then to
some other soul for sympathy. Was
there? But you are not often surround
ed by sympathetic souls, Jean, partic-
ularly If you write. Those about you
appear to take the fact of your having
stories in print as a personal affront.
That is strange, isn't it? But it is true.
i have found it to be the case. Not only
/, but others. They raise their eye
brows, these people, and say: Indeed,
Is that so? And in what magazineY
Then when you tell them the name of
the magazine, oh they oXclaim, Il