The Savannah morning news., 1901-04-14

rient bears !ncipient consumption as bue
one of the many terrors lightly passed
over by its landlord.
AS the child grew weaker the doctor
grew desperate. The hopelessness of the
failing life and the daily feeble resistance
to the inexorable, creeping advance of the
disease proved too formidable an enemy
to his mirth. In her behalf he turned to
one charity after another, only to find
that New York swarmed with unempoy-
ed and that hundreds of applications stood
before him.
But now, sitting the thought of his fu-
ture, he impatiently stripped his fiat bare
of every book, stick of furniture and rug.
Better ten more years Of struggling and
saving to regain what he had lost than
to lose what he had so desperately
fought for. One fight more or less made
little difference. He had fought once for
his career and he had won; the second
fight would be easier for the recollection
of having saved a life. Undaunted, he
made another pilgrimage to Third ave
nue.. Only his surgical instruments re-
mained-dearer to him than all with
which he had parted.
The conviction that the little girl would
soon be beyond recovery unless something
should be done almost at once, burned
itself indelibly into his consciousness. The
little girl he had sworn to save, was dy-
ing.
There was a way out. There was one
remaining hope, but it was hard to think
of. So far he had been able to keep his
eyes religiously turned away from his
glistening instruments standing in their
case in the corner. Without them the last
link would be broken. The fiat would be
merely fat-nothing more.
Precisely a week later Doctor Work
man sat in his fiat holding an unopened
letter in his hand. John Boyer had just
left him. He, too, had a letter, but his
had been opened and he had come from
the tenement TO read it and to reiterate,
huskily, his thanks. He had added that
he had found work-and that now he
would be able to put a little aside each
month for the payment of the Doctors
bill. His wifes uncle with
whom he had quarrelled upon
his marriage. owned a carriage
factory and with their reconciliation ef-
fected by Boyer's apology and letter
from his wife, position had been offered
him. Workman started when he heard
the name, for it was synonymous with
thousands of dollars.
His worn shoes scuffied on the baroness
of the floor. His bookcase stared emptfly
and drearily from the farther side of the
room. In the inner Office the corner
where the operating chair had proudly
stood, marking his calling with a grave,
well-loved Importance, was rugless and
desolately vacant In the other corner
the polished glass of his instrument case
mourned silently the loss of its bright
steel reflections. The walls, except in one
place where his college diploma hung
were bare, for pictures and hangings and
all had gone the road of the rest-for
the sake of one small child.
The doctor looked around at 1t ALL As
he did so he noticed another letter caught
under the door through which John Boy
er had just passed. He picked it up
wonderingly; it was the second letter he
had received in months. Then he gave
a gasp half of amazement, half of relief.
and wholly of delight 1t was written
upon the paper of the Foreign Seamens
hospital and it read:
"Dr. William Workman, No. Q Foun-
tain Place, City: Dear Strive have the
honor to inform you that the board of
trustees of the Foreign Seamens Hospital
have unanimously voted to offer you the
position of first assistant resident physi-
clan, made vacant by the recent death OF
DR.. Robert F. Clark. The salary at
tached to the Office is small-$2,500 per
annum-but the trustees hope for the sake
of the hospital that you can see your way
clear to its acceptance.
Trusting that we may hear favorably
from you on the matter, we are, very
truly, Foreign Seamens Hospital,
IN. L. jackson, Sec'y."
May 10, 1900"
For three minutes he stared stupidity at
the letter trying to understand. 1t was
not until he turned it over and saw the
scrawl on the back in John Boyers hand
writing that he believed:
Dear Doctor-I couldn't say this, so l
wrote ii. Mr.. Foster. the carriage man.
is president of the board of trustees.
John Boyer.
And then Workman ceased, for the hrst
time in all his struggles, to laugh. ln-
stead his eyes grew suspiciously moist
But it was not for sorrow.