A Sister's Love.
THE INDIAN ADVOCATE
: lister s uove. cmi
Founded on Fact.
By Rev. Richard W. Alexander.
TVJllka HE sunshine came brightly one morning into a great
SJIS? hospital ward in the city of St. Louis. Weary suf-
,tl" idiacu mcir ueaus irom tneir puiows, aim
eyes dim with pain grew bright as they watched it
gild the white beds. It crept over little tables, where here
and there a vase of flowers bloomed, and over the pillows,
where sufferers, too ill to note it, lay silent with closed eyes.
There were beds, too, with screens around them, which
meant the long, last journey was close at hand, but the sun
shine gilded them, too, though the occupants noted it not.
Nurses in pure white uniforms glided noiselessly here and
there, and the doctors went gravely from bed to 'bed, giving
hope and comfort to many hearts. But the sunshine flooded
it all and made the scene less sad, less painful.
There. were nuns there, too, with chastened faces and ten
der touch, with gentle voices and kind eyes, and the weary
faces smiled when they stood at their bedsides. There was
one of them now standing at the pillow of a pale, sweet-faced
invalid wiping the sweat of agony from her foiehead and hold
ing a little crucifix to her willing lips every now and then.
She was not dying, unless you call such agony for fifteen
years a constant death. These were but paroxysms of torture
from her crippled spine, which came and went and left her
"Poor Bessie," said the nun; "it is so hard to see you suf
fer and not to be able to relieve you unless you want the hy
"No, Sister, nol Am I not expiating for poor Charlie? Poor
boy! If he only knew," , said the invalid, whose face was re
suming its normal expression, now that the convulsion was
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