Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??, 1906-12-21
Little Baby Beth
BY Caroline H. Stanley.
Es5fHT


christmas tree, just as it had been
arranged a week ago-bisque doll,
toys, glittering balls, marvellous sugar
dogs and bears and ~'elphunts," candy
apples and hearts, popcorn, colored tapers
just peady to be lighted-and upstairs
8aby Beth was dying. All week long,
With the ferceness of a tigress fighting
tor her young, Margaret Thorne had
fought for her child's life. From the mo-
ment that the first hoarse cough smote
nbon Her ear and Beth had said, NAM
ma, It hurts me here when I tof," she
had lost no time. All that doctors,
hurses, servants, friends-mother love
could do had been done, and now in her
darkened chamber the mother sat with
her baby on her knees and waited. To
SSard night a change had come. The
harsh cough ceased, the pantin: breath
came more quietly.
Didn't she seem easier?" she had ask
ed, and the doctor had answered briefly,
Yes" Then, after~an interval of wait
Ing, Wasn't her breathing less labored?'
The doctor made no reply.
= Doctor" ~piteously, don't you think
Rhe is betterY
practiced many years, and witnessed
6AdAy q oNGhC n LIS - W AAS nAA
heart each one was new.
"My child" he said, "she will never be
n better-she is dying"
Margaret Thorne made no outcry, shed
DO tear-she would have tomorrow and
lll after life for tears" to-day she had
her baby. She bent over the child and
half stretched out her arms with the i'm
pulse to take her and go somewhere
enywhere-away from everybody. 1t was
the instinct of the wounded animal. Then
she fell into the monotonous swinging mo-
ton of the knees, familiar to mothers,
batting her little one softly the while as
II sshe were putting her to Sleep.
Il was heart-breaking. The women to
whom the child was only a dear little
baby who would be better off in heaven"
Is the phrase goes, crept about the room
weeping softly with aching hearts. AZ
ter q time Margaret looked up.
Doctor" she asked, how long?"
Il can hardly tell" he answered, but
only a few hours at best, I think"
She turned to the women.
Send for her father" she said briefly.
There was a slight stir Of surprise. Sig
nifeant glances passed from one to an
ether behind her bowed head. Then they
went out to do her bidding.
~ lhc uleSSdSe WAS quickly SeuC ana aB
quickly answered. The case brooked no
delay. Margaret Thorne heard the ia
uiliar step in the hall, then in the room
below. A moment later he came in. The
women spoke to him in the sympathetic
Key Of the sick room and the doctor 81
lently wrung his hand. Margaret looked
up with a slight movement of the head,
but did not offer him her hand.
Margaret" he said, sit was very good
uf you to send for me-"
"ft was only right" she said, her voice
hardening in her efforts to steady it "she
= your child, too"
IL He made no effort at conversation, and
10 they sat, the silence Of death upon
chem. It grew oppressive. The women,
One by one, stole out of the room, and
the doctor finally muttered something
about going into the library to lie down,
selling them to call him if there should
lie any change. The two were left alone
with the dying child.
Il was a strange scene. Each held a
baby hand each with a burden of grief
nnutterable bent over the little form and
watched the Pickering life go out; and
each shut up and double-locked and bolt
ID the heart that the other should not
know what was therein. They were but
hands breadth apart, but between them
was a great gulf fixed. IN.
John Thorne had not seen his child
Nnce that never-to-be-forgotten day when
he pave her and his home into Margaret's
handu and went forth lone. How he had
hnsed for a sight of the baby face, for
q touch of the baby hands, none but him
self would ever know. But he had been
too proud to ask to see her. and Mar
earet had said in bitter scorn, 1t is the
way Of the sex. A woman would never
have forgotten her own child" And she
had clasped Beth passienately to her
heart and cried out, II will be father and
mother both TO you, my baby, my poor
torsaken baby"
As he bent over her now, all his heart
In his eyes, a strange feeling of doubt pc
gan tagging at her heart. Had he really
loved the child like this? Uncomfortable
regrets took possession of her. Could SHE
hare misjudged him? She might have sent
Beth to see him occasionally. 1t seemed
to her now, when she had her all the
time. He had been more generous thar
abe.
She glanced furtively at him. He rest
ed his head on his right hand, his lei
clasping Betfis. His eyes we're liked OF
the child as if he would IN these few mo
Ments left feast his furnished heart upoI
chat which had been so hong wlthneio
Something In his s~naition made Margare'