Page:Colas breugnon.djvu/187

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MY OLD WOMAN'S DEATH
173

know, one does not expect perfection, God keeps that for Himself up yonder; but when it came to hard times, you always backed me up. I used to think you really good-looking when I saw how you threw yourself into your work, whatever happened. Now I don't want you to torment yourself about the past, it's bad enough to have lived through it, but since it is all over, we might as well let, the burden slip from our shoulders and cast all our cares on the Master. We have come to the end, and can take breath and look about us for a nice soft hole where we can sleep the sleep of the just which means, I suppose, of the good workers."

While I was talking, she lay with folded arms, and her eyes shut, and when I stopped she held out her hand. "Wake me tomorrow morning," she said. "And now good-night, my dear!"

Then she stretched herself out in the bed, and, neat as ever, she drew the sheet smoothly up to her chin, with the crucifix resting on her breast;—poor little woman, how thin she was! And there she lay, all ready, staring straight in front of her, waiting for the summons. It seemed that after so many years of effort her poor old body deserved some repose, but alas! there was one more trial in store for her. The landlady suddenly rushed into the room calling to me to come quickly, and when