SICK MOLLY.
————
UESS I'll hurry home," said the rough miner when some of his mates urged him to go to the saloon, "Molly'll miss me."
Nothing seemed so pleasant at night as to see his little Molly standing in the doorway to greet him when he came home. But to-night she was not in her usual place.
"Where's Molly?" he quickly asked, entering the kitchen. Before his wife could speak, he saw Molly in her mother's arms with her eyes closed.
"What is it?" he asked, in a hushed voice.
"I—don't—know," sobbed the poor mother. "She complained—of being tired. And she wanted—me to hold her. I've held her—nearly all day. I'm so glad—you've come, Jake. Do run for the doctor."
"Yes, I will;" and without another word he hurried to the village.
"Will she live?" were his first words after the doctor entered the house.