The new age., 1906-12-22
Little Baby Beth
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By Caroline III. Stanley.


II T was New Years eve. Downstairs
in the parlor was Baby Beth's
u Christmas tree, just as it had been
arranged 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 fierceness of a tigress fighting
for her young, Margaret Thorne had
fought for her child's life. From the mo-
ment that the first hoarse cough smote
upon her ear and Beth had said, Nam
ma, it hurts me here when l tOff," she
had lost no time. All that doctors,
uurses. 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 labored?"
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
40 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-
tion 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 women t.
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?"
81 can hardly tell he answered, "but
only a few hours at best, 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 nc
delay. Margaret Thorne heard the fa
miliar step in the hall, then in the room
below. A moment later he came in. The
women spoke to him in the sympathetic
Kew of the sick room and the doctor 81
lently wrung his hand. Margaret looked
gp with a slight movement of the head
but did not offer him her hand.
Margaret" he said, "it was very goot
of you to send for me-"
"It was only right" she said. her voice
hardening in her efforts to steady it ''sh'
Is your child, too.'
He made no effort at conversation, anC
so they sat, the silence of death upor
them. 1t grew oppressive. The women
one by one. stole out of the room, anC
the doctor finally muttered sOmethin:
about going into the library to lie down
telling them to call him if there SHOULD
be any change. The two were left alon,
with the dying child.
1t was a strange scene. Each held {
baby hand each with burden of grie
nnutterable bent over the little form ant
watched the flickering life go out; anC
each shut up and double-locked and bolt
ed the heart that the other should no
know what was therein. They were bu
a hands breadth apart, but between then
was great gulf fixed.
John Thorne had not seen his chilt
since that never-to-be-forgotten day wheI
he gave her and his home into Margaret
hands and went forth alone. How he ha'
Ionged for sight of the baby face, TO
a touch Of the baby hands, none but him
self would ever know. But he had beer
TOO proud to ask TO see her. and Mar
Faret had said in bitter scorn, TT is tn
way of the sex. woman would neve
have forgotten her own child And sh
bad clasped Beth passionately to he