Half Portions | Page 9

that old Soph was
getting queer. "She talks about the children being hers," he said.
"Oh, well, she's awfully fond of them," Flora explained. "And she's
lived her little narrow life, with nothing to bother her but her hats and
her house. She doesn't know what it means to suffer as a mother
suffers--poor Sophy."
"Um," Baldwin grunted.

When the official notification of Eugene's death came from the War
Department Aunt Sophy was so calm that it might have appeared that
Flora had been right. She took to her bed now in earnest, did Flora, and
they thought that her grief would end in madness. Sophy neglected
everything to give comfort to the stricken two.
"How can you sit there like that!" Flora would rail. "How can you sit
there like that! Even if you weren't his mother surely you must feel
something."
"It's the way he died that comforts me," said Aunt Sophy.
"What difference does that make! What difference does that make!"
This is the letter that made a difference to Aunt Sophy. You will have
to read it to understand, though you are likely to skip letters on the
printed page. You must not skip this.
AMERICAN RED CROSS (CROIX ROUGE AMÉRICAINE)
MY DEAR MRS. BALDWIN:
I am sure you must have been officially notified, by now, by the U.S.
War Dept. of the death of your son Lieut. Eugene H. Baldwin. But I
want to write you what I can of his last hours. I was with him much of
that time as his nurse. I'm sure it must mean much to a mother to hear
from a woman who was privileged to be with her boy at the last.
Your son was brought to our hospital one night badly gassed from the
fighting in the Argonne Forest. Ordinarily we do not receive gassed
patients, as they are sent to a special hospital near here. But two nights
before the Germans wrecked this hospital, so many gassed patients
have come to us.
Your son was put in the officers' ward where the doctors who examined
him told me there was absolutely no hope for him, as he had inhaled
the gas so much that it was only a matter of a few hours. I could
scarcely believe that a man so big and strong as he was could not pull

through.
The first bad attack he had, losing his breath and nearly choking, rather
frightened him, although the doctor and I were both with him. He held
my hand tightly in his, begging me not to leave him, and repeating,
over and over, that it was good to have a woman near. He was propped
high in bed and put his head on my shoulder while I fanned him until
he breathed more easily. I stayed with him all that night, though I was
not on duty. You see, his eyes also were badly burned. But before he
died he was able to see very well. I stayed with him every minute of
that night and have never seen a finer character than he showed during
all that dreadful fight for life. He had several bad sinking attacks that
night and came through each one simply because of his great will
power and fighting spirit. After each attack he would grip my hand and
say, "Well, we made it that time, didn't we, nurse? And if you'll only
stay with me we'll win this fight." At intervals during the night I gave
him sips of black coffee which was all he could swallow. Each time I
gave it to him he would ask me if I had had some. That was only one
instance of his thoughtfulness even in his suffering. Toward morning
he asked me if he was going to die. I could not tell him the truth. He
needed all his strength. I told him he had one chance in a thousand. He
seemed to become very strong then, and sitting bolt upright in bed and
shaking his fist, he said: "Then by the Lord I'll fight for it!" We kept
him alive for three days, and actually thought we had won when on the
third day....
But even in your sorrow you must be very proud to have been the
mother of such a son....
I am a Wisconsin girl--Madison. When this is over and I come home
will you let me see you so that I may tell you more than I can possibly
write?
MARIAN KING.
It was in March, six months later, that Marian King came. They had
hoped for it, but never expected it. And she came. Four people were
waiting in the living room of the big Baldwin house overlooking the

river. Flora and her husband, Adele and Aunt Sophy. They