« AnteriorContinuar »
tempered and impulsive, struck his stranger-glad to be shown to his brother an awful blow with the stock | room and hide himself away. He of his gun, which felled him to the wanted no supper, he only wanted to
think. So, after all, the stain of " I stood over him," he said, in a blood-guiltiness was not upon his hoarse, husky whisper, “and I saw hands; but could any waters ever bin lying there, his face white and wash his heart clean? He had thought arful in the moonlight. I put my that his confession once made he should hand on his heart and felt no throb. | be at rest; but still the Presence Thad no thought but that he was dead, haunted him, and still a voice seemed I sent home and took all the money I | to urge him, against his will, to go to wall find in the house and fied. I his brother. etter meant to come back again, but At last he could bear it no longer. of solitude grew too terrible. For He got up, and went downstairs, and aüthis time I have believed myself out into the still evening. No moon to be a murderer, nor can I see now shone, only the stars looked down fiat my guilt is any less."
from the deep blue sky of the summer "Strange, strange," Squire Gran night. The air was heavy with odorper murmured. “No one ever knew ous dew, and no breeze stirred it; no of this, I remember, now, that your sound but his own steps broke tho brother was ill and confined to his stillness. On he went, over the famitumn for awhile after you went away; liar ways. He had not said to himself bat he gave out that it was owing to that he would go in, only that he must a heart fall he got in going through see the old place once more. Ho the woods. He has kept your secret pushed open the gate softly, and went Tell. I will be equally faithful to it, up the well-known walk. The curFere it only for the sake of your dead tains had not been put down, and he father. I think you've learned a les saw his brother sitting there at the Non you won't have to learn over again; table, reading, and all alone. She was You may be a better man for it all not there, kindling the place with her Four life through. I advise you to dark eyes, her beguiling smile, her bake your peace with your brother, fatal beauty. He had not dared to and settle down here among your ask Squire Granger whether they were nd friends and kindred.”
married ; but, at least, here was James, John Grierson bowed his head upon and alone. his hands, and his voice shook as he He opened, with trembling fingers,
the old, hospitable, never-fastened "I could not make my peace with | door. He went in, and his brother James. He has been noble enough to heard his footsteps, and rose to his feet keep my secret, for the sake of the old as he entered. Tanie we both bear; but it never John Grierson looked into the face would be possible for him to forgive he had seen last so white, so awfully te, or forget that I had tried to mur- | still in the moonlight--the face from ter him. This old town where the the sight of which he had never been Tricrsons have lived so many years, able to get away—and dared not speak. krol men and true, is no place for me. When he entered the door he had I will stay to-night in the inn yonder, meant to utter a prayer for pardon so And go away in the morning, out of full of passionate pleading that not sght and out of mind. You have even the man he had tried to murder heen kind, Squire Granger, and I could refuse to hear it; and instead, he hank you for it, in my father's name stood there dumb. Perhaps no words and my own."
could have been more prevailing than John Grierson was glad that the boy just the sight of his silent shame. James sho met him at the inn door was a Grierson understood all that the sealed
lips could not utter. He only said | “Because Christ's love shall mak three words ; but those three were you free indeed-because the Fathe enough:
pities us, and is ready to save ere “ Brother, welcome home."
unto the uttermost; more ready to John fell upon his knees before him forgive than we to ask-patient wit and lifted up piteous hands.
our infirmities-waiting always to give "Until to-day I thought I had us his blessing.” killed you, and I came back to die for | And once more the Presence seemiga it. I was ready to give up my life in to John Grierson to fill all the room expiation. You are alive, but my but no longer a Presence of accusin guilt is just the same. What can I and upbraiding. He felt himse do to expiate it now? By what sacri drawing near to a great heart of lor fice can I win your forgiveness ?”.
and was content with all his sin, “ You had it, John, from the very his sorrow, just as he was, to lay hi first. I knew what you had done was burden down and rest on that love fbut the act of a momentary madness; evermore, for which your suffering would be incomparably deeper than mine. I might have done the same, had I not been by nature cooler-headed than you. I have kept your secret; and all the time I have held you as my
WAITING FOR JESUS. brother, nearer to me than any one else in the world. I have felt always that From heavy sleep little Paul Chi you would come home some day, ford suddenly awoke, and staring wit and we should live together again in great wondering eyes upon unfamilias
walls, started impetuously up in bel, “And Olive?”
but sank back with a quick, sharp ay A power beyond John Grierson's of pain. A gentle face bent over hins resistance seemed to force that name What is it, dear?” from his lips.
" Where am I?” said Paul, faintly “She never was worth a sharp
“and what is the matter?" word or a hard thought from either of
“Ah, you can't remember, us to the other, John. She is married little child! You have had a terribi now; and she was pledged to the man fall, and it hurt you very much, bi before ever she came here, and used all | we hope to make you all right in her artful wiles to beguile us of our
| little while. Don't think any na hearts. Let the old past with which | about it now, but try to go to slee she had to do rest in its grave, and
again." remember only that you and I are Paul shuddered. “Oh, I rememb brothers.”
now-those cruel, cruel doctors-101 But still John Grierson could not they screwed my leg, and put fire a answer his brother's smile. A tortur my back. Father wouldn't have is ing, suffocating sense of unworthiness
them do it if he had been here, * A choked him.
the child's breast heaved painfully, “How dare I ask your forgiveness!” i “They tried to be kind," said th he cried ; " or be happy in your love ? | nurse, with a tear in her eye; " bat My crime was just as real as if God's know it was very hard to bear. B mercy had not turned its consequences now see, darling, the worst is ore away. Before Heaven I am con they have set your leg, and tried to demned-what right have I to go something for your poor little bad forth a free man among my fellows?” | and now you have only to lie vo
His brother answered with solemn still, and get well as fast as you tenderness:
| Come,” said she, as his face gre
calmer, "we will have a very nice boy,” said a sweet voice; and turning, time together, Shall I read till you he found it came from his next neighgu to sleep?"
bour, whose cot was only a few feet "I can't sleep any more now, from his own. phrase," said little Paul, wearily.
The speaker was a little girl, with ** Then I will shake up your pillows very fair hair, and a skin so transs that you can look around and see parent that he could trace the delicate the pleasant little children.”
blue veins on her temples; and as he Pery tenderly she raised his head, looked at her innocent face he wonTnot so carefully but that he felt dered to find himself thinking of the
strange sensation of fire on his fair white lilies he had once seen when ht, and groaned, although he bit he peered through the fence of some
a proud, young lips, and tried to rare city garden. seda his thanks to the sweet-faced Paul felt himself greatly comforted wit. Very languidly at first did he (he scarcely knew why) by the look Le his heavy lids; but he soon and words of sympathy, and a quick razine mpore interested, for this was impulsive friendship sprang up bestat he saw. A long, cheerful room, tween the little fellow-sufferers. It teed on two sides with little cots with was not long before Paul was telling
y coverlids, and soft white pil her all his story-how “mother died, 1683; and in a pretty sacque of pink and father and he went to live with or blue, like a bird in each fair little Aunt Margaret, who was poor, and fest, was sitting or lying a patient had ever so many children, and was ttle child. They were all very young. sometimes very cross. Then fatherne Fis not more than two years old, dear father-went off to be a soldier, nd the greatest veteran in the com and told him that as soon as he was any had not counted more than eight old enough he should be a soldier too. : nine birthdays. But every one al Ever since father had sailed he had Lady knew what it was to suffer pain, been longing for him; and whenever ad around some of the small mouths any soldiers went that way, he always
were sweet patient lines, very wanted to see them, and so one day veling to see in such baby faces. when he climbed a tree to see a regiPaal looked earnestly from one face ment go past, poor Ben Butler, who the other. He noticed the little girl was half foolish, would creep on to insite, singing softly and content the same limb. It began to crack, Uy to her wooden doll, pressed close | and he thought poor Benny wouldn't
her white, thin cheek; he saw the know enough to save himself, so he ar-eyed little boy next to her, peer tried to jump to another branch, but & eagerly into the mechanism of a toy missed, and fell down-down on the
-engine, entirely unmindfulof the hard pavement, and didn't know any pless arm tied up in a sling; and an more till the doctors- " his voice der child, a little further on, turning quivered.
a picture-book, and almost for “Never mind,” said Susy, “don't ting his poor paralyzed feet, upon tell any more," and they mingled ich he would never walk again. their tears. - Yes,” sighed Paul to himself, Then Susy, in her turn, told him they seem happy enough; but they "she had already been there two
t have been here a great while, years, and never expected to be well, :) forgotten how splendid everything but knew that she should live in that
out in the sunshine; but I-only | little cot till she died.” Esterday I could run faster than any “But you don't seem to care at all," er in the street, and now the said Paul, looking wonderingly at her Ers gathered in his eyes.
smiling face. "I am very sorry for you, little “No,” said Susy, "I am very happy.
Very few sick children have such nice ! hero, my dear little fellow?” said one, clean beds, and such pleasant nurses kindly. to take care of them. Do you know “I'll try, sir,” said Paul, steadily, this is S-- Hospital, and the nurses “ for you know I'm to be a soldier one are ladies--some of them very rich of these days." who come here just because they love “To be sure," said the doctor, God, and want to do something to kindly. “To-morrow, then," and please Him."
they passed on. “I should think God would love Susy, with her violet eyes full of them very much," said Paul, looking tears, said again and again, “ Dear affectionately after the nurse flitting Paul, poor dear Paul;"but he wanted to noiselessly, in her soft, dark dress, be brave, and was afraid he should cry from one little cot to another. “But, if he looked at her. So he lay very Susy,” he began, after a long pause, still, with closed eyes, while the sweet “I suppose girls can keep still easier, Sabbath music stole in from the chapel, but I'in sure I could never smile again where some of the poor sick men and if I thought I must stay here all my | women were worshipping God. With life. O Susy, have you forgotten how all his bravery he could not help shudsplendid it is to run and jump? It dering to think of the cruel suffering would just break my heart if I didn't on the morrow, and thinking how think I should get well very soon, and sweet it would be for Jesus to come, as go to be a soldier with father. How Susy had said. - With a piteous little can you smile so, Susy?”
prayer trembling on his lips, he fell " Î'm waiting for Jesus," said Susy, into a half slumber, and dreamed that softly.
he did indeed see the beautiful Saviour “What can you mean?”
coming down between the long lines of “Why," said Susy, the nurse reads little cots, straight towards his own to us every day from the Bible, and bed. Paul hid his face from the brightonce she told us about Jesus passing ness, but he knew when Jesus touched amidst all the sick people, and making him, for the pain slipped away softly, them well, and I said 10 nurse, if Ho and with a glad cry he opened his eyes. only would pass by here, and touch Alas! the old pain came leaping back every little cot;' and then she told me -ran over his poor back, and shivered that Jesus would come to every little down his tired little limbs. With a child that asked for Him, and if it was heavy sigh he looked around the rool best He would make us well, and leave It was flooded with glad sunshine, 2.) us on earth, or perhaps, if He loved
one bright beam rested on the swet! us very much, He would take us with picture of Jesus blessing little children, Him to heaven. So,” said Susy, with and saying, “Suffer them to COLL! a strange, sweet smile, “I'm waiting unto me." Paul grew calmer while for Him every day.”
he looked at it. He wanted to tell “ And you really think He'll come?”
Susy that he was almost sure Jesus “I know it,” said Susy, simply. would come some time, but he was so
Paul looked doubtful, and sinking very tired, his eyes again closed back upon his pillow wearily closed
| wearily, nor did they open till in the his great sad eyes.
twilight he heard the children sing The days passed on, and little Paul grew no better, although he had learned from Susy to be patient for
"I know I'm weak and sinful, Christ's sake. One bright May morn
But Jesus can forgive." ing he woke, hearing the doctors talking around his bed. They had decided “Oh, yes,” said Paul, starting anx:that perhaps one more operation might | ously as he caught the name, "14sure his life. “Will you bear it like a | most forgot Jesus is coming," and
wa little Paul | ing,
tried to bolster up his little thin hand he might be able to dispose of that in so that it would stay up in the air. the large house where the people went.
“What are you doing?” said Susy. So he said to his little sister, “ You "You see,” said Paul, in a drowsy, stay here while I go with the sand to wandering voice, “I am afraid Jesus that house." might pass by in the night, when I was He went up the large marble steps izleep, and I want to keep my hand and saw a man standing at the door, up so He can find me, and know I'm who had a good many slips of paper in be boy who has been waiting
his hand. They were tickets of admisHis voice died away.
sion to the meeting that afternoon. "Dear Paul, he is gone to sleep," Snell was a frank boy, and said to the w Susy.
man: “I don't belong to the meeting, Paul slept late the next morning. but I have some beautiful white sand * I cannot bear to wake him," said I would like to sell you. There is no na kind nurse to another. “Poor better sand to be found than mine." ttle fellow! he must suffer so much The man replied: “It is no time for to-day, and it will break his heart selling sand. The gentlemen who live when he finds he can never be a sol here have a missionary meeting this dier, for they say he will always be afternoon, which is to be addressed by
missionaries just arrived from their But Susy, looking eagerly to the distant fields of labour. Please leave bed, and seeing the hand lying quietly very soon ; we don't want any sand.” by his side, said, with a glad, hopeful “Then if you will not buy my sand,
will you not allow me to stand a few "I shouldn't wonder if Jesus put it minutes in here, and hear the misthere."
sionaries talk?" And Susy was right, for Jesus had “Yes, stay; but you will have to indeed passed by, and finding little behave yourself while in." Paul waiting for Him, and loving Him Then Snell mustered up a little very much, had lifted the tired lamb more courage, and said : “My sister to his bosom.
is out of doors near by, and I know she would like very much to hear the
missionaries too. Please let me go and THE LITTLE SAND VENDOR.
call her. We will sit anywhere in the
room, and nobody shall see our rags FOR THE YOUNG.
The man had a kind heart, and conIn a certain street in Berlin there sented to his request. In a little while, sat a boy who counted his twenty-six | Snell and his sister were seated on a pence. He dropped them from one | low stool behind the parlour door. hand to the other, and they appeared The little bag of sand was brought to to him as so much shining gold. Near the front gate and put down just inby his little sister stood; her head was side of it. The meeting was opened bowed down, and her hair unkempt. with singing and prayer, after which Not far from where they were there | a missionary arose and spoke thus: was a large house with high windows. “I have seen with my own eyes that Many people entered the house, and it wicked mothers bury their living chilseemed as if there were to be a public dren in the earth, or burn them in the meeting there. The ladies and gentle fire, or drown them in the water, or tuen who entered were observed atten give them to crocodiles. In the large tively by little Snell and his sister. cities I have seen little babies lying in He had made that day twenty-six the streets, left there by their parents. pence by selling sand, and as he had a The case is not much better with the little still left in his bag, he thought | old people, for when they get weak