Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1906-12-20

" T was New Years eve. Downstairs
in the parlor was Baby Beth's
Christmas tree, just as it had been
arranged Il week agO-bisque doll,
toys, glittering balls, marvellous sugar
dogs and bears and '~'elphunts," candy
apples and hearts, popcorn, colored tapers
just ready to be lighted-and upstairs
Baby Beth was dying. All week long,
with the ~ierceness of a tigress fighting
for her young, Margaret Thorne had
fought for her child's life. From the mo-
ment tina the first hoarse cough smote
upon her ear and Beth had said, Mann
ma, it hurts me here when l toff," she
had lost no time. All that doctors,
nurses, 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
ward night a change had come. The
harsh cough ceased, the painting 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 iabored?'
The doctor made no reply.
Doctor" piteously, don't you think
she is better?"
DR.. Lemoyne turned away. He had
practiced many years, and witnessed
many a scene like this. but to his kind
heart each one was new.
MY child" he said, ''she will never be
any better-she is dying
Margaret Thorne made no outcry, shed
no tear-she would have tomorrow and
all 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
anywhere-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,
patting her little one softly the while as
if she were putting her to sleep.
1t was heart-breaking. The m to
whom the child was only a dear little
baby who would be better off in heaven
as the phrase goes, crept about the room
weeping softly with aching hearts. At
ter a 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
nificant glances passed from one to an
other behind her bowed head. Then they
went out TO do her bidding.
The message was quickly sent and as
quickly answered. The case brooked no
delay. Margaret Thorne heard the fa-
millar step in the hall, then in the room
below. \ 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. 1T was very good
of you to send for me-"
1t was only right" she said, her voice
hardening in her efforts to steady it she
is your child, too"
He made no effort at conversation, and
so they sat, the silence of death upou
them. 1t grew oppressive. The women
one by one, stole out of the room. and
the doctor finally muttered sometime
about going into the library to lie down,
telling them TO call him if there sbo,ld
be any change. The two were left alone
with the dying child.
1t was a strange scene. Each held .
baby hand; each with a burden of griat
unutterable vent over the little form and
watched the pickering life so out; ana
each shut up and double-locked and holt.
ed the heart that the other should not
know what was therein. They were but
q hands breadth apart. but between then
was a great gulf fixed.
John Thorne had not seen his chile
since that never-to-be-forgotten day wher
he gave her and his home into Margaret.
hands and went forth alone. How he haI
longed for a sight of the baby face, fol
a touch of the baby hands, none but him
self would ever know. But he had beer
too proud to ask 10 see her. and Mar
garet had said in bitter scorn, TT is tn,
way, of the sex. 4 woman would neve,
have forgotten her own child" And sh,
had clasped Beth passionately to he
heart and cried out, Il will be father an,
mother both to you, my baby, my poor
forsaken baby"
As he bent over her now, all his hear
In his eyes, a strange feeling of doubt be
gan Juggling at her heart. Had he reall.
loved the child like this? Uncomfortable
regrets took possession of her. Could sh
have m~iSjudged him? She might nave sen
Beth TO see him occasionally, it scenes
to her now. when she had her all tn
time. He had been more generous thai
she.
She glanced furtively at him. He rest
ed his head on his right hand. his lef
clasping Beth'S. His eyes were fixed OIL
the child as if he would in these few mo
mentS left feast his famished heart upol
that which had been so long withheld
Something in mis- position made Margare
think of one other night when they ha,
sat like this and watched Beth throug'
the Group, and how they had felt that i
God would only spare her they coul
have nothing in life TO trouble them again
How gentle and tender John had bee
that night!
And then there was the tine that Bet
was burned and John mad walked wit
her the whole night long and would no
even let the mother rest him, because Ssh
was weak and he was strong" he ha
said. How the memories came throngin
upon heri Oh. if she could only wax
and find that this year had been a dreal
"a horrible dream-and there had bee
no quarreli
The clock licked OF the fire sputtere