A SAD STORY.

Wairarapa Daily Times, Volume XII, Issue 3942, 19 October 1891, Page 2

A SAD STORY.

The following " Hospital Sketch" is contributed by " M.D." to the National Observer:

A bitter east wind was driving sleet along the exposed levels of Lauriston, making the wanned and lighted corridors of thein6rmary all the brighter by contrast, when a couple of tall policemen carried on their stretcher a piteous burden to the casualty waiting room. The porter—a fine old Crimean veteran, who had charged at Balaclava, in the Greys, and whose pet birds and monkey are now twittering and chattering near the bright fire—soon has the burden on a bed, and gives his opinion:—" I fear she is gone, sir, and the poor baby, too." The bundle of lamentable rags and patches has two inmates—a woman and a small baby, thin, blue with cold, though closely huddled to the poor, starved breast. The policeman's story is short; the woman had been found lying in a corner of the medals I —no one near, no mark of injury, could not speak ; so be brought her in at once, as she seemed to be dying, not drunk. Thac wise and charitable guess of the policeman gave her a chance, for the willing hands of the nurse and probationer of the casualty ward were soon at work. Not the poetry of nursing, this, by any means, but the very sordid and loathsome prose. To strip off those | leprous and crawling rags, fit only to be burned ; to wash the poor worn body ; to try and revive the almost hopelessly chilled baby ; such tasks need a constant self-forgetfulness and a tenderness which are heroism. The doctor gives his easy directions as to warmth, food and stimulants, and wonders if either or botL of the new cases will need his care at the evening visit.

Poverty and misery of the deepest j bat the poor creature wears a bmss wedding ring; and the only possession i found in the foul rags are her mar j riage lines—as the Scots call that precious document of respectability.! Her age might be anything'under 50, and nothing youthful remained of her except an enormous mob of rusty hair coiled up under a lamentable old hat or bonnet. At evening visit both were still aliv6, but littlo more ; poor baby warmer, and able to take a drop or two of milk. In the end both recovered, and a strange thing happened. This wretched bundle of rags turned out, when cleaned and fed, to be a lovely woman, barely out of her teens, the wealth of rusty hair when washed and combed was a golden brown, the sunk cheek filled up, the dim eyes brightened, she and baby both were happy, and were the pride and pets of the ward. The Samaritan Society fitted them out with clean good clothes, the nurses amused themselves by making for the wife that cheapest and modt becoming ot dresses, a nurse's uniform, with cap and apron. She had heard nothing of her husband, who had starved, beaten, and deserted her, and in he: warmth and comfort with her saved baby she did not seem to care. The lady visitors were trying to get her work and a home, when one day her husband, who had probably been kept from want inside a prison door, came to ask after her. They met, and he did not know her, and sheepishly touched his hat to the gracious lady—who knew bim, and followed him to the door, and beyond it to the misery and want of her former life.