Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1884-03-27
THE sROPGLRL'S SUNDAY REST.

ScENE.A small! attic containing narrow cot
chair; table, and q few articles OF neces-
slty. IIAE-Near midnight Enter a girl
poorly clad. wan and staggering With
AT last I'm home. and Oh! so tired, tired, tired
to very death!
us work, work. work, till ene has ncithe,
strength nor even breath.
n"' '9,s Is saturday, and here's my little peace
where snn can have, all by myself. good long
"a" 3 tSis en- ne week I've counted, counted on
rs.. t hls precious hOur&
mat thou Eht alone has kent me nm. alone pove
n. me che power
10 mi A all the weary work, to live through
30 '1red; 60 nrei. and longing, praying for a
mere is my candle: there's my little bed. 90
Aou're dear to me. you little cot, just now
And once when I'm in bed I'm sleep and s,een
with happy zest
For am tired, SO tired, and want n long, long
Sunday rest.
ought to eat, no doubt, but I'm NOT hungry
in the least,
And couldn'. ca. if 1 were seated at rich
mans feast;
But let me make Up of tea-that may per
haps be best rO'
anu yeI only ca e for rest, for one long Sun
All day IN s'.eep; to-morrow's sun shall never
~, make me rise:
=" peep &c At him between the shades as he as
"u' sre I'll seep and dream as he goes on
r. from east to west,
have wept. and wept, for one long, quiet
Sunday rest.
III light my spirit-lamp and heat the water for
some tea;
Here sugar ana u little milk How very nice
twill be!
1 do declare that after all. I'm very, very
blest
For shall not be happy when have my Sun
Make haste and heat good water. Waiting is
my bed;
sleep almost while you are beating, SO heavy
is my head;
Yes. good is tea. and good are many things;
VI all the world for mes a long. delightful
Sunday rest.
The light is out, and here am / upon my
then futter 50?
weak .an ~, but III be strong on Monday when
For then shall have had my precious, precious
Sunday rest.
far up the SKY.
And oh! it makes my heart so glad that I'm
allowed to lie;
For 1t is Sunday Sunday true. and have uot
Here can stay, and have my long. delicious
Sunday rest.
1dreamed was a child again. and at the dear
old farm.
20 sweet, SO calm. where wickedness came not.
nor any harm;
on, mother! mother! let me lie oucs more
upon your breast,
For there alone my heart can find a perfect
Sunday rest
wonder what they re doing now, dear mother.
father. Jack.
Unjust give up the shop, and. soon as am
strong, go back,
FOR there, though we were poor, in peace and
love we yet were bios,
ana al our days werr like blissful Sunday
rest
can not well make out-;here's such ring.
ing In my ear.
How faint am! Those sounds those pleasant
sounds! Is some one near?
oa no: only dream. In attics no one GENES
rs guest.
I'm quitealone. No friend or foe will break
my Sun lay rest.
hear my little sister Be.sie's voice-but she
is dead
Yes, yes see her now: she smooths nv pil-
low. soothcs NY head.
Lean not breathe. What is it weighs SO heavy
on my breast?
oh, come. dear Betsie. lie with me, and take
your Sunday rest.
How strange it is! How dark and cold! All
me! am so weak
On, where Is mother. where is Betsie? Some
One-some one speak!
Oh yes. will be up--oh, speak--on Monday
up and dr,.s Sed-
can't do not see-who cal's?-I come-my
-Sunday-rcst.
moan. qu'ckened breath, an there, upon
the pillow hJshed
she lay, so wan: and yet SO fair but like
flower crushed;
And on her bosom lay her thin white hands,
together pressed
And marble cold. She'd found an everlasting
Sunday rest.
%. II. Bunce, in Hdrpcr's Bazaar.