Life was not extinct, and Mrs. Markham's lips moved with a
prayer of thanksgiving when Mrs. Jones pointed to a tiny drop of
moisture beneath the tangled hair. Ethelyn would live, the doctor said,
but down in the parlor on the sofa where Daisy had lain was a little
lifeless form with a troubled look upon its face, showing that it had
fought for its life. Prone upon the floor beside it sat Andy, whispering
to the little one and weeping for "poor old Dick, who would mourn for
his lost boy."
Andy was very sorry, and to one who saw him that day, and, ignorant of
the circumstances, asked what was the matter that he looked so solemn,
he answered sadly, "I have just lost my little uncle that I wanted to
stand sponsor for. He only lived a day," and Andy's tears flowed afresh
as he thought of all he had lost with the child whose life numbered
scarcely twenty-four hours in all. But that was enough to warrant its
being now among the spirits of the Redeemed, and heaven seemed fairer,
more desirable to Andy than it had done before. His father was there
with Daisy and his baby uncle, as he persisted in calling Ethelyn's dead
boy until James told him better, and pointed out the ludicrousness of
the mistake.
Pages:
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255