Little Pearl, the Sunshine Does Not Love You

The day was chill and sombre. Overhead was a gray expanse of cloud slightly stirred by a breeze, so that a gleam of flickering sunshine might now and then be seen at its solitary play along the path. This flitting cheer ness was always at the farther extremity of some long vista through the forest. And scene withdrew itself as they came nigh and left the spots where it had danced the drearier, because they had hoped to find them bright. Mother said, little pearl, the sunshine does not love you. It runs and hides itself because it is afraid of something on your bosom. Stand you here and let me run and catch it