ONLY A DREAM.

Waipawa Mail, Volume IX, Issue 881, 16 January 1886, Page 4

ONLY A DREAM.

By Mrs. M. L. Rayne. Tiie doctor had gone away at midnight, saying that he would look in again early in the morning, and the tired watchers had sought a few moments of rest while the sick man slept, but they were within reach of the faintest call. The light burned low and out of the gloom strange shadows evolved themselves into almost human shapes and hovered about the bed whereon the dying man la}'. Suddenly the white head lying on the j pillow moved, the sunken - an old woman with white locks,, and a form bowed by age, cai.io in swiftly at the open door; she 1 sat down beside him and held in hers the ’ helpless bands. There was a sob in the ’ voice that said tremblingly. “ It was only a dream—Reuben.” *• But such a dreadful dream—that my 1 hair was white and I was old—an old man—and that we had graves. Millicent, ! what did it mean ?” Sob—sob—sob. She Lent over him tenderly and stroked the veined wrinkled hands with loving toucl). But she could not speak ; strong 1 hands they had oucc been, and tireless to do her bidding. “And in that dream you were old, too s my bonny Millicent. Your hair was suow- \ white instead of golden, and your young 1 soft hands—dear hands—were liaid and [ withered. And the children, dear, the i little ones, were gone. Are the children s ife, Millicent ?” “Aye, Reuben,” sobbed the shadow, “ the children are—Safe.” “ Thank God, then, it was only a dream, and your hair is not white and I am not old. It was only a dream after all.” “ Only a dream, Reuben.”

With his hands in hers he slept again, and glad smiles crept over his wan face and a look of his youth trembled on his closed eyelids. Tender words escaped from his pale lips as his soul drifted among the argosies of the unknown seas. “ Hark !” he cried, with the fervor of immortal youth. “ They are singing in in the church. I hear my Millicent’s voice.” lie broke forth in a strain of devotional music that rose and fell in waves of rapture. The watchers stole in and looked at him and at each other in troubled surprise lie did not see them. Ilis eyes were fixed, beyond—beyond—as lie sang : “ No chilling winds nor poisonous breath Can reach that healthful shore ; Sickness and sorrow, pain and death, Are felt and feared no more.” “ Millicent—my wife, till death do us part—we are not old. It was only a dream.” As the daylight shone into the room it touched the pillow with the gold of eternal youth. The old man had ceased to dream.