The Mena weekly star., 1909-08-26
CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VII.
 A brazen August sun was ba,t;rc 4. a glow the almost deserted streets of New Orleans. The atmosphere saauoa reeking with the pestilence that threaten ed to dc2opulate the city. Dwellings, and business houses were closed. Grass orou, Tn ths streets. A solemn hush brokor only by the mournful rumble of be,rso wheels, added to tho desolation.
 Those who know anything of tba vol. low fever epidemic, need no descrint;on Of its horrors. Those who do not no pen picture could make understand When the hum of happy voices was heard no more When day after day. dawned and faded again into darkness. the still. ness broken by no familiar sound of miikman s bell, nor fruit vendors mo. no'onous harangue. No enterprisine newsboy's cry of "Daily Picayure.'
 No childish voices rang out on tbe fetid air The greensward, which Iittls feet had ever kept well pressed was Jeff to grow in rank luxuriance Those same little feet, many of them, were still. and cold, victims of the terrible scourge.
 On a low couch, near an open window lay little Blossom, Her yellow hair streamed over the pillow. Her hot breath came slower, and fainter. across the baby lips. By the couch, the moth. CT kneeled Her bloodless features in strange contrast to the flushed face of her child.
 "Father, if it be Thy will, let this cup pass from mo. ."
 Not the first time this cry has been wrung from suffering lips. Not the first time that He, who doeth all things we'll. had thought best to deny. The mother s voice seemed to have power to stop the feeting baby soul. The blue eyes open ed for one brief second. A faint sound. it might have been mother,'' stirred the baby lips, the little breast rose and fell, then was still. Baby Blossom was dead.
 ct is not to be Mrs. Sanders. God has claimed his own, loaned you for a little while. -
 The physician who had been standing by the bed awaiting the inevitable, laid his hand sympashetically on the moth CTS bowed head At sound of his voice she raised her head but no word passed her lips. She rose slowly, and in a strained tone said. 1T would not be per mitted to take her away for burialf,
 Mot now. Later you can do so. I advise you to leave the city at once. I am truly sorry you did not have warn ing in time to save your child. will attend to her grave and see that it is marked beyond possibility of mistake. What name, pleases"
 She looked at him vacantly for a sec ond, then said slowly, "Elba Carlyle Sanders. So, Baby Blossom 6 name went down on the long death list.
 In his far away Northern home, Brent Lawrence read it, and witL bowed head rolled the stone above the grave of his dead hopes, and realized bitterly that the one sweet dream of his life was ended. He took one last long look at the pictured face he loved so well, turned it to the aall, and began new life.
 Despite the urging of the physician aud her friends, Elba did not leave the city. Instead she offered her services at the hospital, counting death on every oc casion.
 "I did not get away in time to save my baby" she said pitifully. will not go now. I've nothing to live for uow. If can do any thing for the suf- terers, will gladly give my life' But, .Death comes not to those who mourn. 1" rhs desolate woman was saved for some purpose.
 As soon as possible, Elba removed the rttle body to the family buryiIg ground, beside her parents and sister. A lovely white stone bore the inscription Baby Blossom"
 Very different from the old place, was tho elegant country home. Money and taste. combined with great labor, had restored it to more than It's pristine beauty and grandeur
 The house had been renovated, and remodeled. The once neglected yard, had changed to miniature fairy land, where flowers bloomcd, and fountains played To travellers on the river the place was