The central Presbyterian. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1856-1908, 1906-08-08

'hSoS thihSS, take none OF these responsible
ties. y. II l could get back there, and leave
others to themselves. Then, at least, l should
get rest from this gnawing anxiety, for a child,
whom L never saw till yesterday-and of whom
once could say, He is nothing to me-
There is stir in the bed. 1t makes me drop
my pencil and queer feeling rushes through me,
as L see that Willies large brown eyes are open
and evidently fixed on How closely he seems
to be watching Surely he could not have
known my thoughts? No. 1t is the loneliness of
the night that makes foolishly credulous
But suppose he had read them-and l calling nv
self missionary.
Thank God, he only asked for another drop of
cold water-and for pillow to be moved because
already he is so tired of lying"
Why all this restlessness? Can there be some
thing going wrong with the wound? Alas, it is
the imperfect work of my own hand Alas, alas!
What poor instrument to represent the Master
Surely he might have sent better surgeon than
meat least some one with patience and love
a little more akin to his own.
What would | not give for a consultation now
such as one got so readily in the old hospital at
home. What price would l not pay for advice of
some great physician. Alas, even this wish is
born first of all, from desire for relief for my
self rather than to the boys lfe-born of a
desire to get rid of responsibility, and put it on
the shoulders OF any one willing to bear it.
Thoughts of the past fly hurrying through
my brain. Surely might have been better
htted How many hours l lost when just the
knowledge now needed much might have been
gained. How many.
A dog has started bowling outside. He is joined
in loud chorus by all my four-footed friends, over
twenty in number. Hundreds of miles they have
carried me already across hill and dale,
and land, mid snow and ice. Now, out the
snow in this bitter cold with only the stars over
head they contentedly making their beds this
night. Few pleasures we know them, ever fall
to their lot. Meat, in great frozen blocks, is the
best food they know of, and that is often far too
scarce. Yet, with every sign of affectionate joy,
they will come leaping up to greet in the
morning: In spite of everything they will
be ready-yes and than ready eager
to work for again, and plod on at it till
l have them drop dead accomplishing in
their very traces.
They have brought back to the reality of
things. They seem an inspiration to back
to the hard facts again. Here am l. with but poor
talents-God help me-and here is this little lad,
his life must be saved. l must it. 1t must
be done now, and 1 must do it. The time and
place offer to else this Opportunity" to
be the instrument. True, it is greater, perhaps,
than other opportunties-bu then, in reality all
opportunities great. Yes, and each is vast in
Importance for it only Never again
Never. Am not even now excepting to hear the
football of the childs mother the crisp snow
outside? Though scarcely daring to risk
swer she is coming to ask me "the news" Yes,
the news-no news in the world is important
to her
What can l do? Thank God, the boy is quiet
again now. For myself, | can almost feel the
silence. Only the clock, ticking outside, reminds
me that the hand of time alone is never still. 1t
suggests that opportunities are passing. Is there
anything l do? Anything? My wor-
ried brain gives me no help. I seem to have done
all that can My whirlng thoughts have gone
again. AS spark from the electric button they
are flashing back to familiar words, "She hath
done what she could,' and they fly to Him
who spoke them while the clock outside seems to
keep ticking at me- "Have YOU" "Have your"
"Have your"
All she could. How true they are Yes our