He lifted Letty and carried her to the bed, amazed to find
how light she was: it was long since he had had her thus in his
arms. Then he laid her dead baby by her side, and ran to rouse
the doctor. He came, and pronounced the child quite dead--from
lack of nutrition, he said. To see Tom, no one could have helped
contrasting his dress and appearance with the look and
surroundings of his wife; but no one would have been ready to lay
blame on him; and, as for himself, he was not in the least awake
to the fact of his guilt.
The doctor gave the landlady, who had responded at once to Tom's
call, full directions for the care of the bereaved mother; Tom
handed her the little money he had in his pocket, and she
promised to do her best. And she did it; for she was one of
those, not a few, who, knowing nothing of religion toward God,
are yet full of religion toward their fellows, and with the Son
of Man that goes a long way. As soon as it was light, Tom went to
see about the burying of his baby.
He betook himself first to the editor of "The Firefly," but had
to wait a long time for his arrival at the office. He told him
his baby was dead, and he wanted money. It was forthcoming at
once; for literary men, like all other artists, are in general as
ready to help each other as the very poor themselves. There is
less generosity, I think, among business-men than in any other
class.
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