SCHOOL DREAMS. 55
pity in her soft hazel eyes. And afterward, as your pain passes away, she will bring you her prettiest books, and fresh flowers, and whatever she knows you will love.
But it is dreadful, when you wake at night, from your feverish slumber, and see nothing but the spectral shadows that the sick-lamp upon the hearth throws aslant the walls ; and hear nothing but the heavy breathing of the old nurse in the easy chair, and the ticking of the clock upon the mantel ! Then, silence and the night crowd upon your soul drearily. But your thought is active. It shapes at your bed-side the loved figure of your mother, or it calls up the whole company of Dr. Bidlow's boys; and weeks of study or of play, group like magic on your quickened vision : then, a twinge of pain will call again the dreariness, and your head tosses upon the pillow, and your eye searches the gloom vainly for pleasant faces ; and your fears brood on that drearier, coming night of Death far longer, and far more cheerless than this.
But even here, the memory of some little prayer you have been taught, which promises a Morning after the Night, comes to your throbbing brain ; and its murmur on your fevered lips, as you breathe it, soothes like a caress of angels, and wooes you to smiles and sleep.
As the days pass, you grow stronger;
