The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1909-12-07

tered the room.
God help us and save US, mavour-
neen, must get one of the neighbors to
go for DR.. McArdle. Won't We take
sup O. tay, me darlint, or cant l do
somethin' for ye? III lay cold cloth
on her forehead. It's burnin'."
As the mother hurried to the sink to
wet towel she heard the tramping OF
many feet on the stairs below, and then
loud rapping at the doors of the apart
ments of the four families on each floor.
AS she was returning to her daughters
bedside the footsteps came nearer.
There seemed to be at least half dozen
men in the party.
Rat-tattat!
They were at Mrs. Bertelli's own door
now.
who's there?" she asked, with some
little perturbation.
Board OF health inspectors" came
the prompt answer "Open the door!'
She turned the key in the lock, the
door was flung open, and a stalwart
member of the sanitary board stepped
into the room, followed by tall, kindly
faced man, enveloped in an ulster. After
him came others. until the small room
was crowded with men.
Anybody sick here?" asked the man
in the ulster.
"Me daughter, sir" faltered Mrs. Ber-
tell.
LET us have look at her. Where is
she?"
Mrs. Bertelli pointed to the little bed
room.
"She's in there, SIR" she said, in
voice broken with apprehension of evil.
The big policeman picked up the lamp
and led the way into the apartment, the
man in the ulster following. A few mo-
ments OF silence in the darkness, and
then the black figure Of the tall man was
outlined in the doorway against the
lamp light
"Dr. Raymond" he cried, in authori-
tative tones, there's a wcll-developed
case here. Send out call for the
wagon. Officer, let no one except our
party come in or go out OF this room I'M
til it has been fumigated. Let me have
some vaccine points,"
I'm the name Of God, man, what's the
matter?" cried Mrs. Bertelli, terror
stricken.
"Your daughter has malignant small
pox," answered the man in the ulster
who was the chief inspector, "and we
are about to remove her to the hospital
on North Brother Island"
for 1o - 81 -
take her away from me. She's all l have
in the world to love-me joy, me pride!
If We take her away from me she'll die
in the pest house. Oh, my"
Stand aside now, my good woman.
Well take good care of her. You
wouldn't imperil the health of the 200
people in this house, would you?"
Day after day, regardless of pouring
rain. driving snow or frosty blast, an
Irishwoman, followed by short but
brawny italian, entered an office in the
health department. building. and stood
aside until the last person had been at
tended to by the clerk, or until the kind
hearted policeman detailed to the place
had approached, and asked the couple
their business. Then with sorrowfiul
voice the woman would say:
I'VE had little gyurl, sir, who was
sick and they took her away from us,
and stint her across the river. Mebbe, |
sir, we've got some word from her to-
day. Mebbe We could find out for us
how she's gettin' along"
whats the trouble?"
Smallpox, SIR"
Hum! Hospital for contagious dis
eases, North Brother Island. What
MARY Bertelli. SIR
mo. No word to-day"
THANK you, sir. No word, Tony.
God pity u.s." and they would walk
away.
In the hurry and hustle Of great
city's charitable bureau there is but lit
tie time to answer the simple inquiries
II simple souls. and no doctors bull
etins are received from the great ISL
Ind hospitals recording the condition
IT the thousands of humble sufferers;
)ut there was look of dumb, patient
srief on the faces and attitudes of the
'ertellis that touched the hearts of the
'lerk and the policeman.
One bleak day the couple entered. and
n answer to the policeman's questions
he clerks finger running down the
'age OF his register stopped suddenly
midway. and he said. in low tone:
Hum! The little girl is across the
liver"
His tone was not low enough to es-
ape an anxious mothers ear. She
iasped her hands, the tears of joy ran
own her cheeks, and she sobbed
GOD and His Blessed Mother he
raised. DO you hear, Tony? Our
title gyurl is comm home"
You don't understand, nv poor
oman" said the big policeman in a
usky voice toned to whisper. 'Your
tile girl has gone home. Gone across
lie river, to home where there's no
lore sickness or trouble. Quick. Tom,
and me glass of water. The poor
'uls tainted, God help her."-Peter-
ms Magazine.
opinions OF = Pessimist.
when man who has reputation for
1<aLy II j.