“Father! Father!” he called out involuntarily, “has anything happened—anything more?” He held out both hands. He had never before felt so keenly the need of a brother worker, or rather a father worker. The aged priest came up, took his hands tenderly in his own and said:
“I have just been summoned to the bedside of the Widow Pressneau’s little boy. I fear it is a case of Tetanus beyond hope, it has developed so rapidly. On the Fourth he shot his hand with a toy pistol which was given him to celebrate with.”
“O Father! and yet another! Let me take your arm; I feel faint. The torn face of poor old Dan Solomon and the terrible death of Laurens Cornwallis have been too great a strain.”
They walked on in silence. As they neared the widow’s house, Father Ferrill said:
“If you have never witnessed a case of Tetanus I advise you not to go in, my son.”
“I never have, but I think I ought to know what is going on about me, Father, and perhaps I can help. I feel better now. I will hunt up Doctor Muelenberg if he is not already there. He has had a large experience in such cases.”
“That is very kind, my son; but I hardly think his services will be of any use. When the case develops so rapidly there is little chance of recovery. Besides, I know how to apply the usual remedies. Our people are so poor as a class that it is necessary we should be physicians to the body as well as the soul.”
“Still, I would go with you, Father. I must learn the needed lesson. This terrible thing is closing in upon us more and more. Why is it, Father?”
“War! War! primarily my son. This vile disease used to be the aftermath of battlefields in the old countries. Here it is the Independence Day disease; but the brute-elements are being let loose all over the world. They are growing too strong for us and we cannot hold them in leash,” whispered Father Ferrill as he opened the Widow Pressneau’s door noiselessly, pushed Dr. Normander in before him and shut it quickly. His next movement was to pull down the shades through which the hot July sun was streaming. The dexterity with which he performed the three essentials for the comfort of the patient afflicted with this fell disease was admirable, although it was of no use for the moment as the boy was in the throes of that species of mortal agony, before which the curtain is drawn all too often for the enlightenment of suffering humanity.
“Father! Father! what have I done that my child should be so tormented?” cried the mother as she sank down by the bedside with broken sobs and words of supplication.