SUNLIGHT AT LAST.

Otago Witness, Issue 1296, 30 September 1876, Page 21

SUNLIGHT AT LAST.

Why did this woman live? Had life one charm for her ] , Perhaps she asked , herself these questions as she sat with her face in her hands, and look out upon the cold, cheerless day. There were no tears ip. her great black eyes— only such a look .of woe and despair that the world should have been there to see it and to have it painted on their hearts. \ "Mother!"A little wasted form on the wretched bed — a bony hand on the ragged quilt — a voice which told of hunger and pain and weary waiting. j She bent over him, and for a moment a mother's love shone in her eyea, and her wrinkled hand rested onhis'pale face with such tenderness as only a mother has. ' " Lift me up, and let me see the sunshine," he whispered, trying to put his arms around her neck. " There is no sunshine," she whispered in reply, a sob in her throat. "Kiss me, mother, and call me when the sunlight comes again," he said. She knew that he had been dying for a week— sinking slow and surely into eternity, but she had no friends to call in— she could only weep over him, and pray God that she might soon follow. With a gasp and a sob, she pressed her lip 3to his forehead, then turned away to struggle with her despair and her great sorrow. The cloudy, cheeriest day faded into dusk. She roused herself for a moment and peered through the gloom to see if her boy still slept, and then she whispered with her thoughts .again. And such thoughts ! When the darkness covered ,tha bare floor as with a mantle, and, when she could no longer see her own poverty, 'the iboy suddenly cried eut :— ' ■ '"' • , "■" I1I 1 "Mother ! mother ! '' ' The sunlight has ' 1 come !"

"Not yet, dear Ned — not yet! It is night now." ' - " But I see the sun— it lights all the room — it blazes into my face !" he called. " There is no sun — it is cold and dark !" she sobbed. " And it grows brighter ! and I hear such sweet music ! and I see little Tommy !" he whispered, while through the darkness she saw his white face grow radiant. " You are dreaming !" she sobbed. "It is Buch a bright sun ! The music is so sweet !" he whispered, clasping her hand. "It is dark — it is night !" she gasped, but he did not hear. The sunlight had truly come, but it was the sunlight — the golden rays reflected, from the gates of heaven — and not the sunlight of earth. The mysterious curtain hiding the valley of death had lifted for his spirit to pass undex*, and woe had been left behind. • i i ■ And of her ? Ask the shadows of night — ask the river. When they found his little dead body, she was not there. They cannot find her. If she is deadj God did not judge her .harshly. — D etroit , TPree Press.