Year: 1876

was OF no aVali IN saving MS own little
baby. Out of score of little sufferers,
that season, he had restored nineteen to
anxious parents. But the twentieth
died in spite of all he could do. And
it was his own little one, whom he loved
better than his life. For the little moth
er at the head of his house, the blessed
wife he would have died to save, he had
been able to do nothing, save to support
her sinking form as the child was buried
from sight.


After the baby went away, the doc
tors house was desolate, in every sense
of the word. You felt it the moment
you crossed the threshold. Not that the
curtains were drawn and the blinds clos
ed, for the sunshine was still allowed to
enter; but heart-broken parents can
scarcely make cheerful home, and they
say that there is no mistake in the state
ment, that the death of little Blossom
did really break the heart of both faith
er and mother.


The doctors office looked like nur-
sery, they said who saw it; but the
hush in that room was oppressive since
the baby went to sleep. During the day
the little ones toys were scattered all
over the floor. On the doctors prescrip-
ton table would sometimes be found a
little sock, or baby's tumbled hat, and
even little flannel Wristbands, that had
pressed his darling's form. Over in one
corner hung the doctors rubber coat,
nevermore on the hat-raek in the hall,
and by the side of the coat stood an
empty baby carriage, with pillow in
it, and sunken hollow where little
form had reposed. On the study desk,
underneath the ponderous volumes and
medical journals and reviews, Blossoms
picture face laughed up into yours-her
dear, dear face that they missed so in
the doctors house.


The doctor and his wife did not sit
down and spend their days in wailing
and crying theirs was mute grief
wordless, unutterable, but as intense and
fixed as suffering depicted in marble
Their hearts were not marble-like or in.
different in single particular o no
They were human hearts broken and the
troubles of others got in all the more
quickly. But consolation they had none
to offer. Was baby sick at midnight
or later, and the doctor summoned from
his bed the most violent storm ever
known would not have prevented hin
from trying to reach the little ones side
Where duty had prompted before, low
and sympathy now led and as the doc
tor looked at the little empty carriage
he would grasp his rubber coat, ane
dash out of the house for some mother
home, whatever the night.


o how they loved and thanked him
the watching parents, as they noticed hi
devotion to the case, his earnestness t
keep the shadow from falling on thei
homes. But, if nothing availed, ant
the darkness came ON apace, he had only
tears to ffer-only wringing grasp o
, the hand, as he turned away. He salt
once there wasn't any comfort for sucl
cases; it was better to leave them alone


People wondered the doctor did no
hasten to place block of marble t.
mark Blossoms grave, as month afte
month passed without recognition o
this custom. But the designers of mon
uments did not wonder. He visitet
them continually, but their drawings di'
not suit him. From them he would g,
to the marble-yard, and look searchingl,
at the many styles displayed, and to tn
rooms where the choicest models wer
carefully placed, and would then slowl,
turn from them all, and, shaking hi
| H6du. NOulu VAIN dNdy.


81 can't tell what | want" be said
one day. al want my Blossom and
can't have her, and SO want-well
can't tell, only l don't want to look a
broken rosebuds and crosses and crown
and shattered columns, when l look a
my baby's grave. And l don't want t
read, Gone Before or Our Angel o
Fallen Asleep, nothing like these
As l don't know what l want, l will
wait even awhile longer. l want m,
Blossom don't want her tombston
to tell me of her death every time
glance at it God knows there is no nee'
of that; and if there were, the moun'
is an eloquent reminder of the fact. {
D want to love the little monument;


want it to be something more than mar
Bile to me Good-day, sir, good-day
I'll call another time"


1t SO happened an old marble cutie
was standing by, with head bent, listen
ing, as the doctor CALCULATED the abov
sentences and as the latter hurriet
away the old man turned to the puzzles