Lewiston evening teller. [volume] (Lewiston, Idaho) 1903-1911, 1907-10-14
CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER I.
S there no hope, doctorT'
Absolutely none-now."
IF she had gone to the-tht
n workhouse inflrmary-would sht
have lived2"
The doctor paused. The guIp before
that hateful word was not lost ON him
He tried professional severity and be
slowed some care on the buttoning OF
a glove.
Il am surprised" he said, that ar
excellent woman Nike your mother
should encourage your feelings of-er--
repugnance toward-er- Confound It
boy, have you no relatives or friendsP
''No, sir. We are alone in the world"
/ And hard up, ehr
The boy dug hand into a pocket
with the stolid indifference Of despair.
he produced 2 shillings and some pen.
niles. He picked out the silver, and the
man Redeemed In protest.
: Don't be stupid, Philip. That "a
your name, Is it not7 When I want my
fee will ask for 1t. Your mother
needs a nurse, wine, chicken broth.
You are old enough to realize that a
doctor pracdcing in nOighborhood
like this might want such things him.
0elf and whistle for them. But In the
--er-infrmary they are provided by
the state"
''Would my mother have lived had
she consented to be taken there a
month agoP'
Again the man wondered at the stony
persistence of the questioner, a fear
less looking, active boy of fifteen, at
tired In worn clothes too small for him
and wearing an old pair of boots sever
al sizes too large. The strong, young
face, pinched with vigils and privations;
the large, earnest eyes, heavy with I'M
shed tears; the lips, quivering in their
resolute compression over q chin that
indicated great strength of character,
appealed far more to the doctor than
the whimpering terror with which the
children Of the poor usually meet the
grim vision of death.
The wrestle with the glove ceased,
and a kindly hand rested on Philips
shoulder.
"No," came the quiet answer. May
God help you, she would not have
lived"
God does not help anybody" was
the amazing retort.
The doctor was shocked, visibly so.
THAT is a foolish and wicked state
ment," he said sternly. do not let
your mother hear such awful words.
She has lived and will die a true Chris
dan. l have never met a woman of
greater natural charm and real piety.
She has suffered so much that she
merits the life eternal. 1t is a reward,
not punishment. Cast away these
terrible thoughts. Go, rather, and kneel
by her side in prayer"
For an instant the great brown eyes
blazed fiercely at him.
Gam l to pray that my mother shall
be taken from meT'
'Even that If it be Gods will"
The CLEAN of passion yielded to utter
helplessness. The boy again brought
forth his tiny store of money.
"Sureay," be said, II can buy some
small amount of wine In the shops
they sell things In TIM, that make chick
en- broth, don't they? Nhave fire and
a kettle. Would you mind telling me-
There, there! You go to your moth
er and endeavor TO cheer her UP. I
will see what can do. What! Would
you argue with me2 Go at once in
sist. Listen. She Is calling for YOU"
In thaS poor tenement there were no
secrets. "A rickety staircase, crudeIy
.s1llt against the retaining wall OF the
only living room on the ground floor,
led steeply to an apartment above and
eliminated in an opening that suggest
ed a trapdoor. The walls, roughly
paneled, were well provided with
shelves and pegs. The back door was
fastened vita a latch, a conTivance
rarely seen in the London of today.
The front window looked out into a
badly paved court grit by tumbledown
stables. A smaller window at the back
revealed a dismal yard darkened by
lofty walls. Although little more than
n stones throw removed from the busy
Mile End road, the place was singular
ly quiet 1t was already dead and
only waited the coming of men with