The Irish standard., 1903-03-21
Gods Own.


Gods Own. -
1t was at Mentonville that 1 first met
DR.. Erlwood. We had been spending
three months in New York, but when
Jacks leave was over and the May
flower had sailed away out of reach
even of letters for span of eight or
ten weeks, took my little Ralph, who
in the confinement Of the city had be-
come pale and ailing, to that quiet spot
on the coast, where 1 hoped the sea
breezes would bring back his roses
once again. But on the very night of
our arrival he fell ill, and the time that
followed was the most agonizing time
that had ever lived through. 1 knew
no one in all the town; 1 had no near
relative who could come to me; was
alone, young, inexperienced, and my
baby boy was very, very i'll.
There was only one other inmate at
that time in the boarding house, and,
providentially for us, that one was DR..
Erlwood. He was young man who,
like ourselves, had come down to Mer-
tonville to recruit after some illness
caught attending case in the slums of
New York. His practice was still to
make, and he could spare the time that
he now ungrudgingly devoted to this
little patient who had come by chance
into his hands.
For four long weeks this big, rough
voiced, gentle-handed stranger devoted
himself absolutely to the tiny morsel of
suffering humanity whose life, under
God, he held in his grasp. For whole
month, he as well as 1, seemed to live
only for that feeble, Pickering life that
might at any moment be quenched be-
fore our eyes. Day and night, except
for the necessary hours Of rest, we
spent at the side Of my baby's cot, and
only once in all that time did he speak
to me as though were anything but
machine to carry out his orders. 1t
was when the first crisis of the fever
was going on, and there was but little
hope.
els there no one you could send for?"
he asked abruptly.
shook my head. He glanced at the
wee white face on the pillow, then
down to my black gown.
''No one at all?" he repeated, more
gently.
'No," 1 answered sadly, thinking of
Jack so far away and of my father
who had loved the boy so dearly, anu
whose home we had shared until death
had called him short year before.
DR.. Erlwood said no more; and it
was not for days after that | learned
what that "No" had conveyed to him.
At last an evening came when for
the first time for such weary length
my little Ralph fell into peaceful
sleep, and at last began to remember
that there was a world still moving
onward outside the sick room.
''He'll do now," said DIR. Erlwood,
stepping after me onto the terrace that
ran along under the windows, where
had gone for the few minutes fresh
air that even when the child was at it's
worst had not been allowed to fore
go.
turned toward him impulsively, and
stretched out both my hands. The re-
lief after such strain was almost
more than knew how to bear.
"Thanks to your carew 1 cried.
"How can ever thank you-how can
ever do half, quarter of what I
ought to prove my gratitudev'
He held my hands and looked down
at me for a moment without speaking.
"You could" he said, and his voice
took tone new to my ears. "Some
day shall come back and remind you
of this"
could not mistake his meaning.
Like flash it came to me what that
"No" Of mine had meant to him, and
it was characteristic Of the man that
he had never spoken Of me to the land
lady, who would surely have told him
of Jack.
"Nothing that we can ever do-my
husband or I, or little Ralph himself
will ever be enough"-despite myself
my voice was hardly steady.
He dropped my hands-a rustic, the
echo Of moan from within, and he
had left me to return to the little bed
side, but not before I had seen the
depth Of feeling in those deep-set eyes.
1t struck me to the heart. Oh. the
misery Of such mistake! What
return for all that he had done for us.
My only comfort lay in the fact that
no one but Jack need ever know his Sc
cret.
Three days later, rs soon as Ralph
was really convalescent, the doctor left
Mertonville; and when on the return Of
the Mayflower, Jack sought him out to
thank him once again for what he had
done, he was on the eve Of departure
for the western states; and for five
years we did not see him. However.
the anniversary Of Ralph's recovery al
ways brought some token Of remem-
brance from him to the child, and he,
though grown to be school boy now,
never lets q night pass without pray