Me Tom got worse an' worse, an' I
saw him a-failin', an' one day Dr. Mason stopped an' said if I
brought him to Bellevue Hospital, where he had just been
appointed, he'd fix up his rib so he could breathe easier, and
maybe he'd get well. Well, I hung on an' on, thinkin' he'd get
better,--poor fellow, he didn't want to go,--but one night, about
dark, I took the Big Gray an' put him to the cart, an' bedded it
down wid straw; an' I wrapped me Tom up in two blankits an'
carried him downstairs in me own arms, an' driv slow to the
ferry."
She hesitated for a moment, leaned her bruised head on her hand,
and then went on:--
"When I got to Bellevue, over by the river, it was near ten
o'clock at night. Nobody stopped me or iver looked into me bundle
of straw where me poor boy lay; an' I rung the bell, an' they came
out, an' got him up into the ward, an' laid him on the bed. Dr.
Mason was on night duty, an' come an' looked at him, an' said I
must come over the next day; an' I kissed me poor Tom an' left him
tucked in, promisin' to be back early in the mornin'. I had got
only as far as the gate on the street whin one of the men came
a-runnin' after me. I thought he had fainted, and ran back as
fast as I could, but when I got me arms under him again--he was
dead."
"And all this seven years ago, Tom?" said Babcock in astonishment,
sinking back in his chair.
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