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diff --git a/21217-h/21217-h.htm b/21217-h/21217-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f1ab0b8 --- /dev/null +++ b/21217-h/21217-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1441 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The One Moss-Rose, by P. B. Power + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The One Moss-Rose, by P. B. Power + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The One Moss-Rose + +Author: P. B. Power + +Release Date: April 26, 2007 [EBook #21217] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ONE MOSS-ROSE *** + + + + +Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Emmy and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was made using scans of public domain works in the +International Children's Digital Library.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Front Matter"> +<tr><td align='left'><img src="images/cover.jpg" width="256" height="400" alt="Cover" title="Cover" /> +</td><td align='center'><br /><img src="images/illus_004.jpg" width="270" height="400" alt=""STOP, STOP,—DON'T CUT IT!"" title=""STOP, STOP,—DON'T CUT IT!"" /> +<br /><span class="caption">"STOP, STOP,—DON'T CUT IT!"</span> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 188px;"> +<img src="images/dividertop.png" width="188" height="20" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> +<h1>THE ONE MOSS-ROSE.</h1> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 188px;"> +<img src="images/dividerbottom.png" width="188" height="20" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class='bbox'> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/titletop.jpg" width="400" height="79" alt="Decoration" title="Decoration" /> +</div> + + + + + +<h1>THE ONE MOSS-ROSE.</h1> + + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>REV. P. B. POWER, M.A.<br /><br /><br /></h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/titlemiddle.png" width="200" height="68" alt="Decoration" title="Decoration" /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'><br /><br /><br /> +<big>LONDON:</big><br /> +T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW;<br /> +<small>EDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK.</small><br /></div> +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<div class='center'>1872.<br /> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> +<img src="images/illus_007a.png" width="350" height="71" alt="Duck Decoration" title="Duck Decoration" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE ONE MOSS-ROSE.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 96px;"> +<img src="images/l.png" width="96" height="200" alt="L" title="L" /> +</div> + +<div class="unindent"><br />EONARD DOBBIN had a humble cottage upon Squire +Courtenay's estate; but although the cottage was humble, it was always +kept neat and clean, and was a pattern of everything that a poor man's +dwelling should be. The white-washed walls, the smoothly raked gravel +walk, and the sanded floor, were so many evidences that Leonard was a +careful and a thrifty man; and while some of his poorer neighbours +laughed, and asked where was the use of being so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> precise, they could +not help respecting Dobbin, nevertheless.</div> + +<p>The great, and, indeed, almost the <i>only</i> pleasure upon which the +labourer allowed himself to spend any time, was the little flower garden +in front of the house. The garden was Dobbin's pride; and the pride of +the garden was a moss-rose tree, which was the peculiar treasure of the +labourer's little crippled son, who watched it from the window, and +whenever he was well enough, crept out to water it, and pick off any +stray snail which had ventured to climb up its rich brown leaves. No +mother ever watched her little infant with more eager eyes than Jacob +Dobbin did his favourite rose; and no doubt he thought all the more of +it because he had so few pleasures in life. Jacob Dobbin had no fine +toys, he could not take any long walks, nor could he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> play at cricket, +or any such games, therefore his rose tree was all the more precious; in +fact, in his estimation there was nothing to compare with it in the +world.</p> + +<p>There was a great difference between poor Jacob's lot and that of Squire +Courtenay's son. James Courtenay had plenty of toys; he had also a pony, +and a servant to attend him whenever he rode out; when the summer came, +he used often to go out sailing with the squire in his yacht; and there +was scarce anything on which he set his heart which he was not able to +get.</p> + +<p>With all these pleasures, James Courtenay was not, however, so happy a +youth as poor Jacob Dobbin. Jacob, though crippled, was contented—his +few pleasures were thoroughly enjoyed, and "a contented mind is a +continual feast;" whereas James was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> spoiled by the abundance of good +things at his command; he was like the full man that loatheth the +honeycomb; and he often caused no little trouble to his friends, and, +indeed, to himself also, by the evil tempers he displayed.</p> + +<p>Many a time did James Courtenay's old nurse, who was a God-fearing +woman, point out to him that the world was not made for him alone; that +there were many others to be considered as well as himself; and that +although God had given him many things, still he was not of a bit more +importance in His sight than others who had not so much. All this the +young squire would never have listened to from any one else; but old +Aggie had reared him, and whenever he was laid by with any illness, or +was in any particular trouble, she was the one to whom he always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> fled. +"God sometimes teaches people very bitter lessons," said old Aggie one +day, when James Courtenay had been speaking contemptuously to one of the +servants; "and take care, Master James, lest you soon have to learn +one."</p> + +<p>Jacob Dobbin had been for some time worse than usual, his cough was more +severe, and his poor leg more painful, when his father and he held a +long conversation by the side of their scanty fire.</p> + +<p>Leonard had made the tea in the old black pot with the broken spout, and +Jacob lay on his little settle, close up to the table.</p> + +<p>"Father," said Jacob, "I saw the young squire ride by on his gray pony +to-day, and just then my leg gave me a sore pinch, and I thought, How +strange it is that there should be such a difference between folk;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> he's +almost always galloping about, and I'm almost always in bed."</p> + +<p>"Poor folk," answered Jacob's father, "are not always so badly off as +they suppose; little things make them happy, and little things often +make great folk <i>un</i>happy; and let us remember, Jacob, that whatever may +be our lot in life, we all have an opportunity of pleasing God, and so +obtaining the great reward, which of his mercy, and for Christ's sake, +he will give to all those who please him by patient continuance in +well-doing. The squire cannot please God any more than you."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Jacob, "the squire can spend more money than I can; he can +give to the poor, and do no end of things that I cannot: all I can do is +to lie still on my bed, and at times keep myself from almost cursing and +swearing when the pain is very bad."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Exactly so, my son," answered Leonard Dobbin; "but remember that +patience is of great price in the sight of God; and he is very often +glorified in the sufferings of his people."</p> + +<p>"The way I should like to glorify God," said Jacob, "would be by going +about doing good, and letting people see me do it, so that I could +glorify him before them, and not in my dull little corner here."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Jacob, my son," replied old Leonard Dobbin, "you may glorify God +more than you suppose up in your little dull corner—what should you +think of glorifying him before angels and evil spirits?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, that would be glorious!" cried Jacob.</p> + +<p>"Spirits, good and bad, are ever around us," said old Leonard, "and they +are watching us; and how much<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> must God be glorified before them, when +they see his grace able to make a sufferer patient and gentle, and when +they know that he is bearing everything for Christ's sake. When a +Christian is injured, and avenges not himself; when he is evil spoken +of, and answers not again; when he is provoked, yet continues +long-suffering: then the spirits, good and bad, witness these things, +and they must glorify the grace of God."</p> + +<p>That night Jacob Dobbin seemed to have quite a new light thrown upon his +life. "Perhaps," said he to himself, as he lay upon the little settle, +"I'm afflicted in order that I may glorify God. I suppose he is +glorified by his people bearing different kinds of pain; perhaps some +other boy is glorifying him with a crippled hand, while I am with my +poor crippled leg: but I should like to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> able even to bear +persecution from man for Christ's sake, like the martyrs in father's old +book; as I have strength to bear such dreadful pain in my poor leg, I +daresay I might bear a great deal of suffering of other kinds."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The spring with its showers passed away, and the beautiful summer came, +and Jacob Dobbin was able to sit at his cottage door, breathing in the +pure country air, and admiring what was to him the loveliest object in +nature—namely, one rich, swelling bud upon his moss-rose tree. There +was but one bud this year upon the tree,—the frosts and keen spring +winds had nipped all the rest; and this one was now bursting into +beauty; and it was doubly dear to Jacob, because it was left alone. +Jacob passed much of his time at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> the cottage door, dividing his +admiration between the one moss-rose and the beautiful white fleecy +clouds, which used to sail in majestic grandeur over his head; and often +he used to be day-dreaming for hours, about the white robes of all who +suffered for their Lord.</p> + +<p>While thus engaged one day, the young squire came running along, and his +eye fell upon Jacob's rose. "Hallo," cried he with delight—"a +moss-rose! Ha, ha!—the gardener said we had not even one blown in our +garden; but here's a rare beauty!" and in a moment James Courtenay had +bounded over the little garden gate, and stood beside the rose bush. In +another instant his knife was out of his pocket, and his hand was +approaching the tree.</p> + +<p>"Stop, stop!" cried Jacob Dobbin;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> "pray don't cut it,—'tis our only +rose; I've watched it I don't know how long; and 'tisn't quite come out +yet,"—and Jacob made an effort to get from his seat to the tree; but +before the poor little cripple could well rise from his seat, the young +squire's knife was through the stem, and with a loud laugh he jumped +over the little garden fence, and was soon lost to sight.</p> + +<p>The excitement of this scene had a lamentable effect upon poor Jacob +Dobbin. When he found his one moss-rose gone, he burst into a violent +fit of sobbing, and soon a quantity of blood began to pour from his +mouth—he had broken a blood-vessel; and a neighbour, passing that way a +little time after, found him lying senseless upon the ground. The +neighbouring doctor was sent for, and he gave it as his opinion that +Jacob could never get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> over this attack. "Had it been an ordinary case," +said the doctor, "I should not have apprehended a fatal result; but +under present circumstances I fear the very <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'worst? poor'">worst; poor</ins> Jacob has not +strength to bear up against this loss of blood."</p> + +<p>For many days Jacob Dobbin lay in a darkened room, and many were the +thoughts of the other world which came into his mind; amongst them were +some connected with the holy martyrs. "Father," said he to his aged +parent as he sat by his side, "I have been learning a lesson about the +martyrs. I see now how unfit I was to be tried as they were; if I could +not bear the loss of one moss-rose patiently for Christ's sake, how +could I have borne fire and prison, and such like things?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Jacob," said the old man, "'tis in little common trials such as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> we +meet with every day, that, by God's grace, such a spirit is reared +within us as was in the hearts of the great martyrs of olden time;—tell +me, can you forgive the young squire?"</p> + +<p>"The blessed Jesus forgave his persecutors," whispered Jacob faintly, +"and the martyrs prayed for those who tormented them—in this at least I +may be like them. Father, I do forgive the young squire; and, father," +said Jacob, as he opened his eyes after an interval of a few minutes' +rest, "get your spade, and dig up the tree, and take it with my duty to +the young squire. Don't wait till I'm dead, father; I should not feel +parting with it then; but I love the tree, and I wish to give it to him +now. And if you dig up a very large ball of earth with it, he can have +it planted in his garden at once; and—;" but poor Jacob could say no +more; he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> sank back quite exhausted, and he never returned to the +subject again, for in a day or two afterwards he died.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When old Leonard Dobbin appeared at the great house with his +wheel-barrow containing the rose tree and its ball of earth, there was +no small stir amongst the servants. Some said that it was fine impudence +in him to come troubling the family about his trumpery rose, bringing +the tree, as if he wanted to lay Jacob Dobbin's blood at their young +master's door; others shook their heads, and said it was a bad business, +and that that tree was an ugly present, and one that they should not +care to have; and as to old Aggie, she held her tongue, but prayed that +the child she had reared so anxiously might yet become changed, and grow +up an altered man.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> + +<p>Old Leonard could not get audience of the squire or his son; but the +gardener, who was in the servants' hall when he arrived with his rose, +told him to wheel it along, and he would plant it in Master James's +garden, and look after it until it bloomed again; and there the rose +finally took up its abode.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the young squire grew worse and worse; he respected no one's +property, if he fancied it himself; and all the tenants and domestics +were afraid of imposing any check upon his evil ways. He was not, +however, without some stings of conscience; he knew that Jacob Dobbin +was dead—he had even seen his newly-made grave in the churchyard on +Sunday; and he could not blot out from his memory the distress of poor +Jacob when last he saw him alive; moreover, some of the whisperings of +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> neighbourhood reached his ears; and all these things made him feel +far from comfortable.</p> + +<p>As day after day passed by, James Courtenay felt more and more +miserable: a settled sadness took possession of his mind, varied by fits +of restlessness and passion, and he felt that there was something +hanging over him, although he could not exactly tell what. It was +evident, from the whispers which had reached his ears, that there had +been some dreadful circumstances connected with poor Jacob Dobbin's +death, but he feared to inquire; and so day after day passed in +wretchedness, and there seemed little chance of matters getting any +better.</p> + +<p>At length a change came in a very unexpected way. As James Courtenay was +riding along one day, he saw a pair of bantam fowls picking up the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> corn +about a stack in one of the tenants' yards. The bantams were very +handsome, and he felt a great desire to possess them; so he dismounted, +and seeing the farmer's son hard by, he asked him for how much he would +sell the fowls.</p> + +<p>"They're not for sale, master," said the boy; "they belong to my young +sister, and she wouldn't sell those bantams for any money,—there isn't +a cock to match that one in all the country round."</p> + +<p>"I'll give a sovereign for them," said James Courtenay.</p> + +<p>"No, not ten," answered Jim Meyers.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll take them, and no thanks," said the young squire; and so +saying, he flung Jim Meyers the sovereign, and began to hunt the bantams +into a corner of the yard.</p> + +<p>"I say," cried Jim, "leave off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> hunting those bantams, master, or I must +call my father."</p> + +<p>"Your father!" cried the young squire; "and pray, who's your father? +You're a pretty fellow to talk about a father; take care I don't bring +my father to you;" and having said this, he made a dart at the cock +bantam, that he had by this time driven into a corner.</p> + +<p>"Look here," said Jim, doubling his fists. "You did a bad job, young +master, by Jacob Dobbin; you were the death of him, and I won't have you +the death of my little sister, by, maybe, her fretting herself to death +about these birds, so you look out, and if you touch one of these birds, +come what will of it, I'll touch you."</p> + +<p>"Who ever said I did Jacob Dobbin any harm?" asked James Courtenay, his +face as pale as ashes; "I never laid a hand upon the brat."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Brat or no brat," answered Jim Meyers, "you were the death of him; you +made him burst a blood-vessel, and I say you murdered him." This was too +much for James Courtenay to bear, so without more ado, he flew upon Jim +Meyers, intending to pommel him well; but Jim was not to be so easily +pommelled; he stood upon his guard, and soon dealt the young squire such +a blow between the eyes that he had no more power to fight.</p> + +<p>"Vengeance! vengeance!" cried the angry youth. "I'll make you pay dearly +for this;" and slinking away, he got upon his pony and rode rapidly +home.</p> + +<p>It may be easily imagined that on the young squire's arrival at the +Hall, in so melancholy a plight, the whole place was in terrible +confusion. Servants ran hither and thither, old Aggie went off for some +ice, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> footman ran to the stable to send the groom for the +doctor, and the whole house was turned upside down.</p> + +<p>In the midst of all this, James Courtenay's father came home, and great +indeed was his rage when he heard that his son had received this beating +on his own property, and from the hands of a son of one of his own +tenantry; and his rage became greater and greater as the beaten boy gave +a very untrue account of what had occurred. "I was admiring a bantam of +Meyers," said he to his father, "and his son flew upon me like a tiger, +and hit me between the eyes."</p> + +<p>Squire Courtenay determined to move in the matter at once, so he sent a +groom to summon the Meyers—both father and son. "I'll make Meyers pay +dearly for this," said the squire; "his lease is out next Michael<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>mas, +and I shall not renew it; and, besides, I'll prosecute his son."</p> + +<p>All this delighted the young squire, and every minute seemed to him to +be an hour, until the arrival of the two Meyers, upon whom ample +vengeance was to be wreaked; and the pain of his eyes seemed as nothing, +so sweet was the prospect of revenge.</p> + +<p>In the course of an hour the two Meyers arrived, and with much fear and +trembling were shown into their landlord's presence.</p> + +<p>"Meyers," cried the squire, in great wrath, "you leave your farm at +Michaelmas; and as to that young scoundrel, your son, I'll have him +before the bench next bench-day, and I'll see whether I can't make him +pay for such tricks as these."</p> + +<p>"What have I done," asked old Meyers, "to deserve being turned adrift? +If your honour will hear the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> whole of the story about this business, I +don't believe you'll turn me out on the cold world, after being on that +land nigh-hand forty years."</p> + +<p>"'Hear!' I have heard enough about it; your son dared to lift a hand to +mine, and—and I'll have no tenant on my estate that will ever venture +upon such an outrage as that;—it was a great compliment to you for my +son to admire your bantams, or anything on your farm, without his being +subjected to such an assault."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to excuse my boy," said old Meyers, "for touching the +young squire; and right sorry I am that he ever lifted a hand to him; +but begging your honour's pardon, the young squire provoked him to it, +and he did a great deal more than just admire my little girl's +bantams.—Come, Jim, speak up, and tell the squire all about it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ay, speak up and excuse yourself, you young rascal, if you can," said +the angry squire; "and if you can't, you'll soon find your way into the +inside of a prison for this. Talk of poaching! what is it to an assault +upon the person?"</p> + +<p>"I will speak up, then, your honour, since you wish it," said Jim +Meyers, "and I'll tell the whole truth of how this came about." And then +he told the whole story of the young squire having wanted to buy the +bantams, and on his not being permitted to do so, of his endeavouring to +take them by force. "And when I wouldn't let him carry away my sister's +birds, he flew on me like a game cock, and in self-defence I struck him +as I did."</p> + +<p>"You said I murdered Jacob Dobbin," interrupted James Courtenay.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did," answered Jim Meyers, "and all the country says the same,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +and I only say what every one else says; ask anybody within five miles +of this, and if they're not afraid to speak up, they'll tell just the +same tale that I do."</p> + +<p>"Murdered Jacob Dobbin!" ejaculated the squire in astonishment; "I don't +believe my son ever lifted a hand to him,—you mean the crippled boy +that died some time ago?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he means him," said Jim Meyers' father; "and 'tis true what the +lad says, that folk for five miles round lay his death at the young +squire's door, and say that a day will come when his blood will be +required of him."</p> + +<p>"Why, what happened?" asked the squire, beginning almost to tremble in +his chair; for he knew that his son was given to very violent tempers, +and was of a very arbitrary disposition; and he felt, moreover, within<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +the depths of his own heart, that he had not checked him as he should. +"What is the whole truth about this matter?"</p> + +<p>"Come, speak up, Jim," said old Meyers; "you were poor Jacob's friend, +and you know most about it;" the squire also added a word, encouraging +the lad, who, thus emboldened, took courage and gave the squire the +whole history of poor Jacob Dobbin's one moss-rose. He told him of the +cripple's love for the plant, and how its one and only blossom had been +rudely snatched away by the young squire, and how poor Jacob burst a +blood vessel and finally died.</p> + +<p>"And if your honour wants to know what became of the tree, you'll find +it planted in the young squire's garden," added Jim, "and the gardener +will tell you how it came there."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + +<p>The reader will easily guess what must have been the young squire's +feelings as he heard the whole of this tale. Several times did he +endeavour to make his escape, under the plea that he was in great pain +from his face, and once or twice he pretended to faint away; but his +father, who, though proud and irreligious, was just, determined that he +should remain until the whole matter was searched out.</p> + +<p>When Jim Meyers' story was ended, the squire bade him go into the +servants' hall, and his father also, while old Dobbin was sent for; and +as to James, his son, he told him to go up to his bed-room, and not come +down until he was called.</p> + +<p>Poor old Leonard Dobbin was just as much frightened as Jim Meyers and +his father had been, at the summons to attend the squire. He had a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +clear conscience, however; he felt that he had not wronged the squire in +anything; and so, washing himself and putting on his best Sunday +clothes, he made his way to the Hall as quickly as he could.</p> + +<p>"Leonard Dobbin," said the squire, "I charge you, upon pain of my worst +displeasure, to tell me all you know about this story of your late son's +moss-rose tree. You need not be afraid to tell me all; your only cause +for fear will be the holding back from me anything connected with the +matter."</p> + +<p>Leonard went through the whole story just as Jim Meyers had done; only +he added many little matters which made the young squire's conduct +appear even in a still worse light than it had already done. He was able +to add all about his poor crippled boy's forgiveness of the one who had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +wronged him, and how he had himself wheeled the rose tree up to the +squire's door, and how it was now to be found in the young squire's +garden. "And if I may make so bold as to speak," continued old Leonard, +"nothing but true religion, and the love of Christ, and the power of +God's Spirit in the heart, will ever make us heartily forgive our +enemies, and not only forgive them, but render to them good for evil."</p> + +<p>When Leonard Dobbin arrived James Courtenay had been sent for, and had +been obliged with crimsoned cheeks to listen to this story of the poor +crippled boy's feelings; and now he would have given all the roses in +the world, if they were his, to restore poor Jacob to life, or never to +have meddled with his flower; but what had been done could not be +undone, and no one could awake the poor boy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> from his long cold sleep in +the silent grave.</p> + +<p>"Leonard Dobbin," said the squire, after he had sat for some time +moodily, with his face buried in his hands, "this is the worst blow I +have ever had in life. I would give £10,000 hard money, down on that +table, this very moment, that my boy had never touched your boy's rose. +But what is done cannot be undone; go home, and when I've thought upon +this matter I'll see you again."</p> + +<p>"Meyers," said the squire, turning to the other tenant, "I was hasty in +saying a little while ago that I'd turn you out of your farm next +Michaelmas; you need have no fear about the matter; instead of turning +you out, I'll give you a lease of it. I hope you won't talk more than +can be helped about this terrible business. Now go."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> + +<p>The two men stood talking together for a while at the lodge before they +left the grounds of the great house; and old Leonard could not help +wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his rough coat, as he said to Meyers, +"Ah, neighbour, 'tis sore work having a child without the fear of God +before his eyes. I'd rather be the father of poor Jacob in his grave, +than of the young squire up yonder at the Hall."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Bitter indeed were Squire Courtenay's feelings and reflections when the +two old men had left, and, his son having been ordered off to his +chamber, he found himself once more alone. The dusk of the evening came +on, but the squire did not seem to care for food, and, in truth, his +melancholy thoughts had taken all appetite away. At last he went to the +window, which looked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> out over a fine park and a long reach of valuable +property, and he began to think: What good will all these farms do this +boy, if the tenants upon them only hate him, and curse him? Perhaps, +with all this property, he may come to some bad end, and bring disgrace +upon his family and himself. And then the squire's own heart began to +smite him, and he thought: Am not I to blame for not having looked more +closely after him, and for not having corrected him whenever he went +wrong? I must do something at once. I must send him away from this +place, where almost every one lets him do as he likes, until he learns +how to control himself, at least so far as not to do injustice to +others.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the young squire's punishment had begun. When left to the +solitude of his room, after having heard the whole of Leonard Dobbin's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +account of Jacob's death, a great horror took possession of his mind. +Many were the efforts the young lad made to shake off the gloomy +thoughts which came trooping into his mind; but every thought seemed to +have a hundred hooks by which it clung to the memory, so that once in +the mind, it could not be got rid of again. At length the young squire +lay down upon his bed, trembling as if he had the ague, and realizing +how true are the words, that "our sin will find us out," and that "the +way of transgressors is hard."</p> + +<p>At last, to his great relief, the handle of his door was turned, and old +Aggie made her appearance.</p> + +<p>"O Aggie, Aggie," cried James Courtenay, "come here. I'm fit to die, +with the horrid thoughts I have, and with the dreadful things I see. Jim +Meyers said I murdered Jacob<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> Dobbin; and I believe I have, though I +didn't intend to do it. I wish I had never gone that way; I wish I had +never seen that rose; I wish there had never been a rose in the +world.—O dear, my poor head, my poor head! I think 'twill burst;" and +James Courtenay put his two hands upon the two sides of his head, as +though he wanted to keep them from splitting asunder.</p> + +<p>Aggie saw that there was no use in speaking while James Courtenay's head +was in such a state as this. All she could do was to help him into bed, +and give him something to drink,—food he put from him, but drink he +asked for again and again. Water was all he craved, but Aggie was at +last obliged to give over, and say she was afraid to give him any more.</p> + +<p>James Courtenay's state was speedily made known to his father, and in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +few minutes, from old Aggie's conversation with him, the groom was on +his way to a neighbouring town to hasten the family physician. The +latter soon arrived, and, after a few minutes with James Courtenay, +pronounced him to be in brain fever—the end of which, of course, no man +could foresee.</p> + +<p>And a fearful fever indeed it was. Day after day passed in wild +delirium. The burden of all the poor sufferer's cries and thoughts was, +that he was a murderer. He used to call himself Cain, and to try to tear +the murderer's mark out of his forehead. Sometimes he rolled himself in +the sheet, and thought that he was dressed in a funeral cloak attending +Jacob Dobbin's funeral, and all the while knowing that he had caused his +death. At times the poor patient would attempt to spring from his bed; +and now he fancied that he was being whipped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> with the thorny branches +of rose trees; and now that he was being put in prison for stealing from +a poor man's garden. At one time he thought all the tenants on the +estate were hunting him off it with hounds, while he was fleeing from +them on his gray pony as fast as her legs could carry her; and the next +moment his pony was entangled hopelessly in the branches of little +Dobbin's rose tree, and the dogs were on him, and the huntsmen were +halloing, and he was about to be devoured. All these were the terrible +ravings of fever; and very awful it was to see the young squire with his +hair all shaved off, and vinegar rags over his head, tossing his arms +about, and endeavouring at times to burst from his nurses, and leap out +upon the floor. The one prevailing thought in all the sick boy's ravings +was Jacob Dobbin's rose bush. Jacob, or his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> rose bush in some form or +other, occupied a prominent part in every vision.</p> + +<p>Ah, how terrible are the lashings of conscience! how terrible the +effects of sin! For what a small gratification did this unhappy youth +bring so much misery upon himself! And is it not often thus? The apostle +says, "What fruit had ye then in those things whereof ye are now +ashamed?" And what fruit of pleasure had James Courtenay from his +plunder of Jacob Dobbin's rose? Where was that rose? It had long since +faded; its leaves were mingled with the dust upon which it had been +thrown; yet for the sake of the transient enjoyment of possessing that +flower a few days before abundance would have made their appearance in +his own garden, he had brought upon himself all this woe. Poor, very +poor indeed, are the pleasures of sin;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> and when they have been enjoyed, +they are like the ashes of a fire that has burned out. Compare James +Courtenay's present troubles,—his torture of mind, his pain of body, +his risk of losing his life, and the almost momentary enjoyment which he +had in plundering his poor neighbour of his moss-rose,—and see how +Satan cheats in his promises of enjoyment from sin.</p> + +<p>Dear young reader! let not Satan persuade you that there is any profit +in sin—momentary pleasure there may indeed be, but it is soon gone, and +then come sorrow and distress. Sin is a sweet cup with bitter dregs, and +he who drinks the little sweet that there is, must drink the dregs also. +Moments of sin may cause years of sorrow.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>For many days James Courtenay hung between life and death; night<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> and +day he was watched by skilful physicians, but they could do very little +more than let the disease run its course. At length a change for the +better appeared; the unhappy boy fell into a long sleep, and when he +opened his eyes his disease was gone. But it had left him in a truly +pitiable state. It was a sad sight to see the once robust boy now very +little better than a skeleton; to hear the once loud voice now no +stronger than a mere whisper; and instead of the mass of brown curly +hair, to behold nothing but linen rags which swathed the shaven head.</p> + +<p>But all this Squire Courtenay did not so much mind; his son's life was +spared, and he made no doubt but that care and attention would soon +fatten him up again, and the curly locks would grow as luxuriantly as +they did before. Old Aggie, too, was full<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> of joy; the boy that she had +nursed so tenderly, and for whom she had had such long anxiety, was not +cut off in the midst of his sins, and he might perhaps have his heart +changed and grow up to be a good man. And what an opportunity was this +for trying to impress his mind! Old Aggie was determined that it should +not be lost, and she hoped that the young squire might yet prove a +blessing, and not a curse, to those amongst whom he lived.</p> + +<p>There were not wanting many upon Squire Courtenay's estate who would +have been very glad if the young squire had never recovered. They had +tasted a little of his bad character, and they feared that if he grew up +to inherit the property, he would prove a tyrannical landlord to them. +But amongst these was not to be reckoned old Leonard Dobbin. True, he +had suffered terri<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>bly—indeed more than any one else—from James +Courtenay's evil ways; but he did not on that account wish him dead—far +from it. It was old Leonard's great fear lest the young squire should +die in his sins, and no one asked more earnestly about the invalid than +this good old man.</p> + +<p>As it was necessary that the sick boy should be kept as quiet as +possible, no one went near his room except old Aggie and those whose +services could not be dispensed with. Old Aggie alone was allowed to +talk to the invalid, and a long time would have elapsed before she could +venture to speak of the circumstances which had brought about this +dreadful illness, had not the young squire himself entered on the +subject.</p> + +<p>"Aggie," said he one morning, after he had lain a long time quite still, +"I have been dreaming a beautiful dream."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p>This was quite delightful to the old nurse, who for many long days had +heard of nothing but visions of the most frightful kind.</p> + +<p>"I saw a rose bush—"</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush, Master James," said Aggie, terrified lest the dreadful +subject should come uppermost again, and once more bring on the delirium +and a relapse of the fever.</p> + +<p>"No, no, Aggie, I cannot hush; it was a beautiful dream, and it has done +me more good than all the doctor's medicine. I saw a rose bush—a +moss-rose—and it had one bud upon it, and sitting under the bud was +little Jacob Dobbin. O Aggie, it was the same Jacob that used to be down +at the cottage, for I knew his face; but he was beautiful, instead of +sickly-looking; and instead of being all ragged, he was dressed in +something like silver. I wanted to run away from him, but he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> looked so +kindly at me that I could not stir; and at last he beckoned to me, and I +stood quite close to him; and only he looked so softly at me, I must +have been dazzled by the light on his face and his silvery clothes.</p> + +<p>"I did not feel as though I dared to speak to him; but at last he spoke +to me, and his voice was as soft as a flute, and he said, 'All the roses +on earth fade and wither, but nothing fades or withers in the happy +place where I now live; and oh, do not be anxious to possess the +withering, fading flowers, but walk on the road that leads to my happy +home, where everything is bright for ever and ever.'</p> + +<p>"Aggie, Aggie," said James Courtenay, who saw his nurse's anxious face, +and that she was about to stop his speaking any more, "it is no use to +try to stop my telling you all about it. My head has been so strange of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +late, that I forget everything, and I am afraid of forgetting this +dream; so I must tell it now, and you are to write it down, that I may +have it to read, if it should slip out of my mind. Jacob Dobbin +said,—'You are not now in the right road; but ask Jesus to pardon your +sins, and then go and love everybody just as Jesus loved you; and try to +make every one happy, and do good morning, noon, and night, and try to +scatter some flowers of happiness in every place to which you go; and +then you shall be with me in the land where all is bright.' And I +thought Jacob pulled the one moss-rose, and gave it to me, and said, +'This is an earthly rose; keep it as long and as carefully as you will, +it will fade at last; but our flowers never fade: try, O try, to come to +them.' I heard music, Aggie, or something like music, or perhaps like a +stream<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> flowing along, and I felt something like the summer breeze upon +my cheeks, and Jacob was gone, and there I stood with the rose in my +hand.</p> + +<p>"Write it down, Aggie," said the invalid, "exactly as I have told you;" +and having said this, James Courtenay dropped off into a doze again.</p> + +<p>Some days intervened between this reference to what had passed and the +next conversation upon the subject, in which James Courtenay told +Aggie—who had to listen much against her will—what he thought about +this wonderful dream.</p> + +<p>"I know the meaning of that dream," said James Courtenay to his nurse. +"I do not want any one to explain it to me; I can tell all about it. The +meaning is, that I must become a changed boy, or I shall never go to +heaven when I die; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> all the good things which I have here are not to +be compared with those which are to be had there. What Jacob said was, +that all these things are fading, and I must seek for what is better +than anything here.</p> + +<p>"Aggie," said James Courtenay, "you often think I am asleep when I am +not; and you think I scarcely have my mind about me yet, when I lie so +long quite still, looking away into the blue sky: but I am thinking; I +am always thinking, and very often I am praying—asking forgiveness for +the past, and hoping that I shall be changed for the future."</p> + +<p>"But we can't do much by hoping," said Aggie, "and we can't do anything +by ourselves."</p> + +<p>"I mean to do more than <i>hope</i>," said James Courtenay; "I mean to +<i>try</i>."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And you mean, I trust, to ask God's Spirit to help you?" said Aggie.</p> + +<p>"Yes, every day," said James. "He helped Jacob, and he'll help me; and I +hope to be yet where Jacob is now."</p> + +<p>"Ay, he helps the poor," said Aggie, "and he'll help the rich. Jacob had +his trials, and you'll have yours; and perhaps yours are the hardest, so +far as going to heaven is concerned; for the rich have a temptation in +every acre of land and in every guinea they have. Our Lord says that +''tis hard for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven.'"</p> + +<p>For many days James Courtenay thus pondered and prayed, with Aggie as +his chief companion and instructor, and at length he was able to leave +his room. But he was a different James Courtenay from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> one who had +entered that room some months before. The young squire was still pale +and thin; but this was not the chief change observable in him,—he was +silent and thoughtful in his manner, and gentle and kind to every one +around. The loud voice which once rang so imperiously and impatiently +through the corridors was now heard no more; the hand was not lifted to +strike, and often gratitude was expressed for any attention that was +shown. The servants looked at each other and wondered; they could +scarcely hope that such a change would last; and when their young master +returned to full health and strength, they quite expected the old state +of things to return again. But they were mistaken. The change in James +Courtenay was a real one; it was founded on something more substantial +than the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> transient feelings of illness,—he was changed <i>in his heart</i>.</p> + +<p>And very soon he learnt by experience the happiness which true religion +brings with it. Instead of being served unwillingly by the servants +around, every one was anxious to please him; and he almost wondered at +times whether these could be the servants with whom he had lived all his +life. They now, indeed, gave a service of love; and a service of love is +as different from a service of mere duty as day is from night.</p> + +<p>Wherever the young squire had most displayed his passionate temper, +there he made a point of going, for the sake of speaking kindly, and +undoing so far as he could the evil he had already done. He kept ever in +mind what he had heard from Jacob Dobbin in his dream,—that there was +not only a Saviour by whom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> alone he could be saved from his sins, but +also that there was a road on which it was necessary to walk; a road +which ran through daily life; a road on which loving deeds were to be +done, and loving words spoken;—the road of obedience to the mind of +Christ. James Courtenay well knew that obedience could not save him; but +he well knew also that obedience was required from such as were saved by +pure grace.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Altered as James Courtenay undoubtedly was, and earnest as he felt to +become different to what he had been in olden time, he could not shake +off from his mind the sad memory of the past. His mind was continually +brooding upon poor little Dobbin's death, and upon the share which he +had in it. For now he knew all the truth. He had seen old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> Leonard, and +sat with him for many hours; and at his earnest request the old man had +told him all the truth. "Keep nothing back from me," said the young +squire, as he sat by old Leonard's humble fire-place, with his face +covered with his hands; and over and over again had the old man to +repeat the same story, and to call to mind every word that his departed +son had said.</p> + +<p>"What shall I do, Leonard, to show my sorrow?" asked James Courtenay one +day. "Will you go and live in a new house, if I get papa to build one +for you?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, young squire," said Leonard; "it was here that Jacob was +born and died, and this will do for me well enough as long as I'm here. +And it don't distress me much, Master James, about its being a poor kind +of a place, for I'm only here for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> while, and I've a better house up +yonder."</p> + +<p>"Ay," said James Courtenay, "and Jacob is up yonder; but I fear, with +all my striving, I shall never get there; and what good will all my fine +property do me for ever so many years, if at the end of all I am shut +out of the happy land?"</p> + +<p>"Master James, you need not be shut out," said old Dobbin; and he pulled +down the worn Bible from the shelf; "no, no; you need not be shut out. +Here is the verse that secured poor Jacob's inheritance, and here is the +verse that by God's grace secures mine, and it may secure yours too;" +and the old man read out the passage in 1 John i. 7, "The blood of Jesus +Christ his Son cleanseth us from <i>all</i> sin." "All, all!" cried old +Dobbin, his voice rising as he proceeded, for his heart was on fire; +"from murder,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> theft, lying, stealing,—everything, everything! Oh, what +sinners are now in glory!—sinners no longer, but saints, washed in the +precious blood! Oh, how many are there now on earth waiting to be taken +away and be for ever with the Lord! I am bad, Master James; my heart is +full of sin in itself; but the blood of Jesus cleanseth from all +sin;—and whatever you have done may be all washed out; only cast +yourself, body and soul, on Christ."</p> + +<p>"But how could I ever meet Jacob in heaven?" murmured the young squire +from between his hands, in which he had buried his face; "when I saw +him, must not I feel I murdered him? ay, I was the cause of his misery +and death, all for the sake of one fading, worthless flower!"</p> + +<p>"Don't call it worthless, Master James; 'twas God's creature, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> very +beautiful while it lasted; and you can't call a thing worthless that +gave a human being as much pleasure as that rose gave poor Jacob. But +whatever it was, it will make no hindrance to Jacob meeting you in +heaven,—ay, and welcoming you there, too. If you reach that happy +place, I'll be bound Jacob will meet you with a smile, and will welcome +you with a song into the happy land."</p> + +<p>"Well, 'tis hard to understand," said James Courtenay.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, Master James, hard to our poor natures, but easy to those who +are quite like their Saviour, as Jacob is now. When He was upon earth he +taught his followers to forgive, and to love their enemies, and to do +good to such as used them despitefully; and we may be sure that, now +they are with him, and are made like him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> they carry out all he would +have them do, and they are all he would have them be. I don't believe +that there is one in heaven that would be more glad to see you, Master +James, than my poor boy,—if I may call him my poor boy, seeing he's now +in glory."</p> + +<p>Many were the conversations of this kind which passed between old +Leonard and the young squire, and gradually the latter obtained more +peace in his mind. True, he could never divest himself of the awful +thought that he had been the immediate cause of his humble neighbour's +death; but he dwelt very much upon that word "all," and Aggie repeated +old Leonard's lessons, and by degrees he was able to lay even his great +trouble upon his Saviour.</p> + +<p>But all that James Courtenay had gone through had told fearfully upon +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>his health. His long and severe illness, followed by so much mental +anxiety and trouble, laid in him the seeds of consumption. His friends, +who watched him anxiously, saw that as weeks rolled on he gained no +strength, and at length it was solemnly announced by the physician that +he was in consumption. There were symptoms which made it likely that the +disease would assume a very rapid form. And so it did. The young squire +began to waste almost visibly before the eyes of those around, and it +soon became evident, not only that his days were numbered, but that they +must be very few. And so they were. Three weeks saw the little invalid +laid upon his bed, with no prospect of rising from it again. At his own +earnest request he was told what his condition really was; and when he +heard it, not a tear started in his eye, not a murmur escaped his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> lips. +One request, and one only, did the dying boy prefer; and that was, that +Leonard Dobbin should be admitted to his room as often as he wished to +see him. And this was very often; as James had only intervals of +wakefulness, it became necessary that the old man should be always at +hand, so as to be ready at any hour of the day or night, and at length +he slept in a closet off the sick boy's room. And with Leonard came the +old worn Bible. The good old labourer was afraid, with his rough hands, +to touch the richly bound and gilt volume that was brought up from the +library; he knew every page in his own well-thumbed old book, and in +that he read, and from that he discoursed. The minister of the parish +came now and again; but when he heard of what use old Leonard had been +to the young squire, he said that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> God could use the uneducated man as +well as the one that was well-learned, and he rejoiced that by any +instrumentality, however humble, God had in grace and mercy wrought upon +the soul of this wayward boy.</p> + +<p>At length the period of the young squire's life came to be numbered, not +by days, but hours, and his father sat by his dying bed.</p> + +<p>"Papa," said the dying boy, "I shall soon be gone, and when I am dying I +shall want to think of Christ and of holy things alone;—you will do, I +know, what I want when I am gone."</p> + +<p>Squire Courtenay pressed his son's hand, and told him he would do +anything, everything he wished.</p> + +<p>"You remember that grandmamma left me some money when she died; give +Leonard Dobbin as much every year as will support him; and give him my +gray pony that he may be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> carried about, for he is getting too old to +work; and"—and it seemed as though the dying boy had to summon up all +his strength to say it—"bury me, not in our own grand vault, but by +Jacob Dobbin's grave; and put up a monument in our church to Jacob, and +cut upon it a broken rose; and let the rose bush be planted close to +where poor Jacob lies—"</p> + +<p>The young squire could say no more, and it was a long time before he +spoke again; when he did, it was evident that he was fast departing to +another world. With the little strength at his command, the dying boy +muttered old Leonard's name; and in a moment the aged Christian, with +his Bible in his hand, stood by the bedside.</p> + +<p>"Read, read," whispered Aggie the nurse; "he is pointing to your +Bible,—he wants you to read; and read<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> quickly, Leonard, for he soon +won't be able to hear."</p> + +<p>And Leonard, opening his Bible at the well-known place, read aloud, "The +blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin."</p> + +<p>"<i>All, all</i>," whispered the dying boy.</p> + +<p>"<i>All, all</i>," responded the old man.</p> + +<p>"<i>All, all</i>," faintly echoed the dying boy, and in a few moments no +sound was heard in the sick-room—James Courtenay had departed to +realize the truth of the words, that "the blood of Jesus Christ +cleanseth from <i>all</i> sin."</p> + +<p>Next to the chief mourners at the funeral walked old Leonard Dobbin; and +close by the poor crippled Jacob's grave they buried James Courtenay—so +close that the two graves seemed almost one. And when a little time had +elapsed, the squire had a handsome tomb placed over his son, which +covered in the remains of poor Jacob<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> too, and at the head of it was +planted the moss-rose tree. And he put up a tablet to poor Jacob's +memory in the church, and a broken rose was sculptured in a little round +ornament at the bottom of it.</p> + +<p>And now the old Hall is without an heir, and the squire without a son. +But there is good hope that the squire thinks of a better world, and +that he would rather have his boy safe in heaven than here amid the +temptations of riches again.</p> + +<p>Oh, what a wonder that there is mercy for the greatest sinners! but oh, +what misery comes of sin! "The wages of sin is death; but the gift of +God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 196px;"> +<img src="images/decorationend.png" width="196" height="79" alt="Decoration" title="Decoration" /> +</div> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes</h3> +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> + +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. +Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The One Moss-Rose, by P. B. 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