The Sisseton weekly standard. (Sisseton, Roberts County, S.D.) 1892-1929, 1906-12-21

-! 60 ioD ApNllt -
Il 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 ready to be lighted-and upstairs
Baby Beth was dying. All week long,
with the ferceness of /, 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, mann
ma, it hurts me here when I toff," she
had lost no time. All that doctors,
nurses. servants, fricnds-mother love
could do had been done, md 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, he painting breath
came more quietly.
Didn't she seem casicr?' she had ask
ed, and the doctor had answered briefly,
Yes Then, after an interval of wait
ing, Wasn't her breathing less labored?"
YIhc doctor made no reply.
Doctor" piteously, don't you think
she is better?"
DIR. Lemoyne turned away. He had
,practiced many years. and witnessed
many n 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 cutlery, shed
no tear-she would have tomorrow and
oil 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-
iti0n of the knees, familiar to mothers,
tpatting her little one softly the while as
II she were putting her to sleep.
1t was heart-breaking. The women to
whom the child was only n dear little
baby who would be better off in heaven"
Is the phrase goes, crept about the room
weeping softly with aching hearts. At
ter a time Margaret looked up.
Doctor" she asked, "how long?"
II can hardly tell" he answered, "but
only a few hours Mt best, l think"
She turned to the women.
Send for her father she said briefly.
There was a slight stir of surprise. Sig
niicant 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 ia
,miliar 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 ST.
yArkvv ., he 1o-J 49,
up with q slight movement of the head,
but did not offer him her hand.
margaret" he said, sit was very good
Of you to send for me-
ut was only right" she said. her voice
hardening in her efforts to steady it 'she
10 your child, too"
BE made no effort at conversation. and
30 they sat, the silence Of death upon
them. 1t grew oppressive. The women,
one by one, stole out of the room, and
che doctor finally muttered something
about going into the library to lie down,
telling them to call him if there should
be any change. The two were left alone
hEith the dying child.
It was a strange scene. Each held a
baby hand each with Il burden of grief
tNnutterable bent over the little form and
watched the Pickering life go out: and
each shut up and double-locked and bolt
I'd the heart that the other should not
lnnow what was therein. They were but
. hands breadth apart, but between them
'Mas a great gulf fixed.
John Thorne had not seen his child
since that never-to-be-forgotten day when
he gave her and his home into Margaret's
lkaSSHc and want fNrfH o1cpa ITo,r l.. III
ilonJed for a sight of the baby face, for
= touch of the baby hands, none but him
'esif would ever know. But he had been
600 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 passionately to her