HOMELESS AND HOPELESS.

Oamaru Mail, Volume I, Issue 133, 23 September 1876, Page 2

HOMELESS AND HOPELESS.

As soon as I set foot in London hen to ask for Lambeth and Blackfriars a<jg( but they were a long way off, and \y e z wrong. At last I got to Blackfriars and asked for Colman-street. ™(j shook their heads. None knew it, it in my mind—our doorsteps, auje white tiles hung in the windows, atye large brick-buildings opposite with fo doors.. But there' was nothing .Jifcj At last, when I asked a tradesman \1 the Coburg Theatre and Cohnan : si were, he said, " Oh, niy little won that's all done away with. The streets have been pulled down ; everytJ is new," I turned away, and N{« death had laid a hand on me. ito I " Stop, stop ! young woman; what i you're wanting with Colman-street, e! meaning well, perhaps. Bxit his tonei what I could not bear, and how joijll tell him what I wanted ? I felt tt

and bewildered with a sudde^nfSjaS^ l suddenly felt that I was veijweak aa weary, and yet where could to ? for .'. looked so poor and dusfcjjand hd nothing with me—l looked 1' a stred beggar. And I was afraid jail place where I could enter. I lost [trust. I thought I was forsaken. It sied thatl had been in a fevesjof hopfreliriousall the way from I was j d £ ,$$&&& my mind forward and mothered now-there I *toI? think- ill of me , and I must herd* beggars T stood on the bridge and Id along the nver. People were goa^

» steamboat. Many of them seemed poor, and I felt i«» i'B it wnntd be a refuge to get away from tfli» streets r perhaps the E>r>at < *mM take me where I eon-Ed soon get ; fate solitude. I ha.il stilt some pence left, i and { bought a tout' when I w. i>t on the toab. I wanted to hate a tir.cle ttuu and ! staensfth Co- th ; nk of life and death. How > eonld I live t Ami now again is sremed I that if ever I were to find my . >* ;rr $ again, death w»s the way Co her. I ate, 1 that I might have strength to think:. The I t>Oat set toe down at a place along the Inner— £ don't know where— and it was * fete in the evening. I found some targe ft tree* apart, from the road, and I sat down i tukfcr theni that I might rest through the dnight. Hleep must have anon e-.>me tume, b[and when I awtiku it was moming. The itbbtfewere singing, the dew was whtteabortt idme,, t felt chill ami, oh, so tortyty r lit got up and watke t, and followed the •]rivef ft Va;.( way, and then turned back , jagain. There was no reason why I should ?S<> anywhere. The world abnnt me i berried like a vision that wad hcrrrying by, e frail* f stood stitl with my pain. My W ihoaghts were stronger than I was ; they ; nshed in, and forced nte to see all tny tile 1 torn the beginning ; ever since t was ear:«Jied away froni my mother, I had fetfc myruddl a lost ehild, taken up and nsed by it'] transfers* who did no* care wliat my life •y iad to me, fent only what I eorttd do {or hi letn. It seemed alt a weary wandering aft nd heartdonetiness—ft* i. I had been he (Vtfedl to go to merry-makings without le expectation of joy. And rt»w it was otsu. ,! was lost again, and I dreaded Lt any stranger should notice me, arid 1 leak to me. t bad a terror of the Icl'dL None knew me-; alt would misfailte- me. I had seen so many in my life t lio made themselves glad with scorning, lasl. lathed at another's shame. What wlild t rf©>f This life seemed to he Hofcinjj in npon me with a wall of lireBwywhere there was sc«>rehtng that torMlo me shrink. The Fiigh sunlight made f Rwhrink. And I he-fwt tt» tUtitk that to Mies-pair w;v* the Vt>ico of C*«d. tetling (»■{> liio.. Bat it worttd take nti? long to mgM>£ tonger. Then I thoitgUt *>fmy Soßlb, how they had hoen driven front leclßfco. tand and huert afftioted, and mrttiiettMViS htwl died in misery in their wanderI I tlie tirst And in the wars a (■tlftouftito when t'hrist r an» were ex'netest. «r,,: t fathejs had sometimes stain their p- <fo Iba atid afterwards thvmsjtves t it id tto save themsdves from iieing jfatse wutt Matus- T.uat s.j«!n.:d to make it tight ii I iue to n»t an end to my life : for i(J it unity halt close tme in too, and I saw «» i [utUwaj. bnt to ev*t. r>«S my nvind 'Wnd into- w&r with itself, for there were Towi livny things ix\ it. I knew some had , amo lit wrong to li.wf.on t veir own death, lie 1) ltfh theyvvere in t te midst of rtamss ; ■enw while I had som.j string* a L-ft, it was 'ilging to bear if I ouvglit to bear—aaa..i wueru was t,-.e of alt my -* L- It had not h'vjit since r*jflpi'.H, > VI t it'jd ti» t'.unk, i- I aßßhh; it.." ~ BuS always before t had ■Mhupe '. now it gone. Wtt't these 'ftVßiits I wandered ami wandered, iniVJ»Hy i:ryin» to fiie LVlost High, from r IB f slould nor. it-je inileiith more than : mu M[u-t,iougu I had no stn>ug faitlt that f.'lßai'Bd for me. Tue stivugth sjenv.::d K rjfciiiu : from my soul; djep below all ' ttl ™ a'ius was the feeling that t was alone V xtl ' teakett. The mow I thought the , n > riur I g«>«, titt it seemed that I was not m * liking at all : hut only the sky and the .. it imd the Eternal \iw& were if* my o ** 11. xlnd whal' was it whether I died or *)* all If I lay down to die in th; river, ™ sit more than tying down to steep I We '-tare, too, I eouuuitted my soid—l _ ni ' iciaysetf np. I coutd not hear vnemo- ?" limy more ; I eotcht only feet what was 19 sunt in me—it was one longing to cease- .. in -my weary life, which seemvd only a ' n outside tUe great peace that i might or into. Tiuat was Uowit was.—George ltf totfc.