Waterbury evening Democrat., 1903-05-04

formed very wonderful operation in such cases, and had cured many, who almost never failed. But, and the good man hesitated to go on, as if he did not want to say what he thought next.
 But what, what is it," cried half dozen voices, and the mothers pale face and anxious eyes besought him. with more eloquence than words, to speak.
 ''It costs" he said slowly, "a~ great deal of money"
 The cruel force of the words he had hesitated to speak came home to them all. Money, great deal of money, and they, if they had but their daily bread were, perforce, satisfied, if not content.
 The gall and wormwood in the thought were not new to their taste.
 It was no new thought to think that if little Maso was rich mans boy he could get well. but now, he must take his chances of life as fate might deal them out.
 Gradually the people who had filled to overfowing the little room dis
 
 poor mother became quieter, and the numbness that succeeds mental agony was respite to her.
 And then the instinct which nature planted deeper than all others in human hearts, came to her help-the mother instinct to do something, to fight on still, for her child, for his life.
 And as she turned her thoughts now in this direction, now in that, of sud- den the thought of rescue sure and cer- tain came to her.
 The beautiful lady-she had said to remember her if the boy needed a friend, and now, and she glanced at the little still form on the bed, he needed one, he needed what her two hands could not get for him.
 The lady loved him and had asked his mother to give him to her and she had refused to do it then. But now yes, she would go and tell her about him, and if he could be made we'll again she, would give him up, shewould give him to the other woman for her own, always.
 She went quickly to prepare for her journey across the big city, and, as she always did when trouble came to her, she knelt for a moment in the little room at her shrine, a rosary and a plaster image of the mother who had given her son to save all mankind from suffering. No words moved her lips. her prayer, like her grief, was too deep for words. Only in her heart were the words, Mother of God, help me, help me-
 And so she went out into the busy, noisy, jostling strets; going to her su- preme sacrifice.
 And so on the next day little Maso was carried away, lying white and still as he had been since his terrible hurt, in the hospital ambulance, and after month there he was taken into the country to his new home, which would finish the successful work begun by the 1 great doctor, and make the roses to bloom in the pale cheeks and the bright ness to come again into those dark eyes.
 The two little rooms over the store 1 on Desplaines street were quiet now. No noisy boys shoes came tramping up and down the stairs, countless times 8 day. No loud and happy voice calling 1 to mother. No boys caps and toys 1 to make the rooms always disorderly. An, no, only quiet, little mother, cry l ing out her grief to her baby. Waking each morning to try and bear bravely her burden, which seemed too heavy | for her, each night going to her rest with heart yearning for her boy, and a prayer to the Holy Mother to make him we'll and strong and keep him safe | from harm. @.+ And so the weary days dragged into months and the chill fall days came. Almost}a year since the day he had gone away and she had not seen him since, though several letters had told her of his fine recovery.
 She had lost her plumpness and her l cheeks were not rosy now. There was look in her face that told of suffer ing, long and unrelenting suffering, and a palor like that of i'll health, that comes to those who have ceased to smile and to be happy. She sat hold ing her baby to her bosom one day, as she sat every day now. l..
 Oh, how still it was. Always so quiet now. Always to be just this quiet way, for he was gone. But hark! that sound is like his step. How many times she has seemed to hear it, just as now. But 1t is a step. It comes to the door, and yes, she almost holds her breath, the door opens and it is in truth her boy, her little Maso. The sweet smile is in his eyes as ever, but there is a tremor about the lips.
 He walks straight to her arms and for few minutes no sound is heard in that bare little room. Then the boy says: FF> .,a.
 ''Oh, mother, it was so beautiful. The country is more beautiful than you can think of, but-you sec" with a manly attempt to smile, and boyish tugging at the button on his cap, "I T thought would come back like the country, but there wasn't any you there."
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