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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/77088-0.txt b/77088-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a8a3ac4 --- /dev/null +++ b/77088-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,897 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77088 *** + +Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed. + + + + PAUL HARLEY'S DREAM + + [AND] + + [JOE'S LETTER] + + _[A New Year's Story]_ + + + BY A.L.O.E. + + _Author of "The Claremont Tales,"_ + _"The White Bear's Den," &c._ + + + [Illustration] + + + MARSHALL BROTHERS, LTD. + + LONDON, EDINBURGH. + + + + CONTENTS. + + —————— + +PAUL HARLEY'S DREAM + + CHAPTER I. PAUL + + CHAPTER II. THE DREAM + +JOE'S LETTER + + CHAPTER I. + + CHAPTER II. + + + + PAUL HARLEY'S DREAM + + BY A.L.O.E. + + + +[Illustration: "It stops all fun!" cried Paul.] + + + + PAUL HARLEY'S DREAM + + A Tale. + + —————— + +CHAPTER I. + +_PAUL._ + +"I DO think it, and I will say it!" cried Paul Harley, with impatience. +"Of all days in the week, a Sunday is the worst for New Year's Eve. +It stops all fun, all larking, all hope of adventure. The New Year +steals in like a thief when one is fast asleep in bed; unless, like +that stupid fellow James Barton, one goes to some midnight service in +church, to pray in the New Year, as he says. As if one had not had +enough of that sort of thing all the Sunday!" + +"My dear boy—" began his grandfather, Silas Harley, an aged man, who +sat with his arm leaning on the table, and his Bible before him. + +What Harley was going to say I cannot tell, for his grandson cut him +short. Paul had been to school, and had learned many things there, of +the knowledge of which he was not a little vain. But one thing, worth +more than mere book-lore, he had not learned, which was to honour his +father and his mother, which includes grandparents also. Paul was +puffed up with pride, as a balloon is puffed out with gas. + +[Illustration] + +He stood erect by the table, grasping the back of a chair, and looking +down on the venerable man before him, whose white hair Paul should have +honoured, with a saucy look, which seemed to say, "I don't want advice +from you!" + +"I wish that I could do this year what I did on last New Year's Eve," +cried Paul. "A lot of us young fellows got on the top of a coach, and +were off to Enfield for a spree at a farm. How the horses plunged +through the snow; we were upset as nearly as could be!" + +"No great fun in that," observed Harley. + +"We had no end of snow-balling each other at Gale's farm, as long as +daylight lasted," continued Paul; "and when night came on, we had +dancing 'under the misletoe bough.' Ah! That night, what a merry one +it was! We were just in the midst of a dance, hands round and down the +middle, when the clock struck twelve, and in came the New Year!" + +"And Sunday too," observed old Mrs. Harley, who was seated by her +husband. "I hope, Paul, that you left off your dancing?" + +Paul only, in reply, gave a saucy laugh, which pained his good +grandparents. They had brought up the orphan boy ever since he had been +a helpless baby, and had now, in return for their loving care, but +disrespect and disobedience. + +On the year of which I am writing, the thirty-first of December fell +on a Sunday, and it was on the evening of this Sunday that Paul stood +talking to his grandparents in the little parlour of their home, in one +of the suburbs of London. + +"We were sorry not to have you with us at church this morning, Paul," +observed Harley. The old man and his feeble wife had with no small +difficulty made their way to the house of prayer, to praise their Maker +for mercies received through the closing year, and to ask for His +blessing on the year so soon to open. The New Year to one or both of +them, as they thought, was likely to be the last, but neither of them +feared to "go home" to the rest prepared for the people of God. + +"I don't care to go to morning service," replied Paul, bluntly; "I take +my ease, and lie late in bed on Sundays, at least in such freezing +weather as this. But I mean to go to-night to seven o'clock service; +for I like to see the church all lit up, with the gas-lights flaring on +the evergreens and the wreaths with which it is decked. I like, too, +the hymn which is to be sung, it has such a pretty tune." And without +the least reverence of manner, Paul rather bawled out than sang the +first lines of a well-known hymn— + + "'A few more years shall roll, + A few more seasons come, + And we shall be with those who sleep + At rest within the tomb.'" + +"Hush, my dear child, hush!" cried Mrs. Harley, with a shocked look. +"You don't seem to think of the meaning of the words which you are +singing." + +Paul took no notice of the gentle reproof. "It's time for me to be off +to church," said he; "it must be just on seven; I think the bells have +stopped their ringing. Don't stay supper for me; I'm going to Uncle +Sam's after I've been at church; he's to have lobster salad for supper +on New Year's Eve, and I like that a deal better than your porridge. I +mean to stop the night at Uncle Sam's, and get some fun with his boys +on New Year's morning." + +"Take your comforter!" cried the grandmother. "You're not the lad to +stand sharp cold; remember that you nearly died of rheumatic fever last +March!" + +"I'm not going to coddle myself like an old woman!" exclaimed the boy. +"Cold only catches those who have to creep like snails!" Paul took down +his cap from its peg as he spoke, and went off to church, certainly not +in a mood either to praise or to pray. + +The church was not full on New Year's Eve, for the weather was so +extremely cold that some persons who would otherwise have come, dared +not brave the piercing night air. Paul took his usual place in a dark +part of the church, where he could see without being much seen. He sat +during the prayers, and stared about him. Paul looked at the wreaths +and the gas-lights, noticed the fashion of the ladies' bonnets, and +amused himself with his own thoughts. There was no reverence either in +the posture or in the spirit of Paul. He behaved himself in the house +set apart for the worship of the Almighty as he would not have dared to +behave in the Queen's palace; nay, as he would not have dared to behave +in any gentleman's private dwelling. + +[Illustration] + +Paul's body was in church, but his heart was not there. Now he thought +of to-morrow's sports, now of his lobster supper. Then the lad's +thoughts took a more evil course. Malice and spite were shown in such +reflections as these:— + +"I wonder how that James Barton can bear to stay up till midnight in a +church! 'Pray in the New Year,' to be sure! That may be well enough for +old folk, who are not likely to live many more years, but young chaps +like James and me have fifty or sixty before us, and I can't see the +use of all that praying. James wants to be thought better than any one +else. He has given up playing skittles on Sundays, and has taken, I +hear, to keeping a missionary-box. Catch me following his example! I've +something better to do with my pennies. + +"I don't like James Barton at all. I have owed him a grudge ever since +our quarrel in a field three years ago, when he got me into a scrape +with a farmer's wife by saying I'd stolen her apples. I've been on the +watch ever since to pay him off for that bit of mischievous meddling. +If I did take the dame's apples, that was no business of his. Fine fun +I had last summer, when I crept up unseen to the neat model of a ship +which James had taken weeks to rig out, and tore her sails, and knocked +a hole in her keel, while he was wandering about in the brushwood +gathering flowers and ferns! I made off as soon as I had done the job, +but I'd have liked to have seen the lad's face, when he came to the +place where he had left his pretty ship, and found her lying broken +and spoiled in the mud! I wonder if he guessed who had played him the +trick? He did not see me, I'm sure of that, for I stole away like a +fox. I suppose that James has now grown so mighty good that, had I +smashed him instead of his ship, he'd have taken it as meek as a lamb. +The next time that we meet, I'll try how he likes a box on the ear." + +But I will put down no more of the worse than idle thoughts which, +even in church, passed through the mind of the boy. I have said quite +enough to show that Paul did not for one moment reflect that he was +in the presence of his Maker; that the eye of God was upon him; that +his secret malice was laid bare unto Him who hath declared in His holy +Word, "The thought of foolishness is sin," Prov. xxiv. 9. + +Paul only gave over making plans for teasing James when the clergyman +gave out the hymn. We have seen that Paul was vain; and of nothing was +he more vain than what he considered to be a very fine voice. A loud +one it was, without doubt, and Paul took care that it should be heard +all over the church. + +A lady, speaking of church music, once said to me, "It makes me tremble +to hear the children sing." My readers may think these very strange +words, but to my mind there was cause for the lady's feeling of fear. +Oh, my young friends, have you ever thought how you may displease the +Lord, even whilst singing a hymn! "Thou shalt not take the name of the +Lord thy God in vain; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who +taketh His name in vain." Is it a light matter to sing of the glory +of the Almighty, or the agonies of His dear Son, as carelessly as if +you were but shouting out some idle ballad? A dark stain of sin was +spreading over the soul of Paul as he boldly sang out, at the top of +his voice, even words so solemn as these:— + + "''Tis but a little time, + And Christ the Lord shall come + To take His ransomed people up + To their eternal home. + Then, oh, my Lord, prepare + My soul for that great day; + Oh, wash me in thy precious blood, + And take my sin away!'" + +Paul's hymn-singing was a mockery; his very prayer was "turned into +sin!" What thought he of the great Day of Judgment? What thought he of +the "precious blood," of which he dared so loudly to sing? + + + +CHAPTER II. + +_THE DREAM._ + +THE hymn was over, and Paul sat down, but not to listen to a word of +the sermon. Good and holy words were spoken, which touched most of the +hearers' hearts, but they never reached the heart of Paul. The boy fell +fast asleep in his dark corner of the church, and there he remained +fast asleep till long after the sermon had been ended, and the blessing +had been given by the preacher. + +Paul not only slept, but he dreamed—a strange and wondrous dream. The +place in which he was seemed to widen, the roof to rise, till instead +of a ceiling above him were clouds of glory, and beneath him a pavement +of gold. There was music, but far sweeter, and more joyful than what +Paul had heard in church. Instead of mortal men and women, shining, +happy beings were around the dreamer, with starry crowns and waving +wings, that glittered like jewels in the glorious light. + +But though all that Paul saw in his dream was beauty and gladness, he +could not delight in the beauty, he could not share in the joy. Paul's +heart felt nothing but dread. He did not belong to the happy band; he +could not join in their song; he feared lest one of the shining ones +should notice that he was there. Paul would fain have hidden himself, +but had no place wherein to hide. Terror seized him when one of the +beautiful angels drew near, and said, "What dost thou here?" + +Paul was dumb, and could not reply. The proud tongue which had so often +repeated holy words without fear had lost all power to utter one now. + +Then Paul seemed to hear the sentence, "Thrust him forth into outer +darkness!" And the start of terror which he gave awakened the boy from +his dream. + +Paul found himself indeed in darkness. The lights in the church had +all been put out; the worshippers had gone to their homes; no one had +noticed the sleeping boy, and he had been locked into the church. + +Paul's first feeling was that of great surprise at finding the church +so still and so dark; his next was that of alarm. He groped his way to +the outer door. How still and dark the place seemed as he moved down +the aisle! And, oh, how terribly cold! The clock struck nine just as +Paul reached the great door. It was locked. Paul shook it, and shook +it again, but had no power to force it open. He called as loudly as he +could, but the church stood in the middle of a large churchyard, no +house was near, and no one heard the boy's voice. + +"Some one will search for me, oh, surely some one will search!" cried +Paul. + +He thought of his loving grandparents, who, old and feeble as they +were, would be sure to brave the piercing cold if they know that their +boy was in danger. But then another thought startled Paul. "Grandfather +will think that I am at my uncle's; he will fancy me seated at his +table beside a blazing fire." + +The contrast between his uncle's pleasant home, with its supper and +cheerful blaze, made his present dreary position seem worse than ever +to the hungry lad. But Paul tried to keep up his courage and warm his +chilled frame by walking up and down the part of the church which was +nearest to the door, stamping his feet and swinging his arms to keep +out the cold. + +Ten o'clock struck. Paul counted each stroke on the bell. How loud and +solemn was the sound! + +"Only ten!" muttered Paul. "I shall have to wait twelve whole hours +before this church is opened to prepare for New Year's service! The New +Year!" he repeated. "Oh! In how wretched a way I shall begin the New +Year! I'll go to sleep in one of the pews, and so try to get over the +time. The night grows colder and colder." + +Paul did snatch a short sleep, but awoke quite cramped and chilled, and +with shoots of rheumatic pain, which frightened him more than anything +else. It was one of the bitterest nights that had ever been known in +England. The boy dared not sleep again lest he should bring back his +dreadful rheumatic fever. + +When eleven o'clock struck, Paul's courage quite gave way. His limbs +were trembling, his teeth were chattering, his blood seemed turning to +ice. He remembered that his grandfather had read in the papers the day +before that four persons had been found frozen to death. + +"What if I should die before morning!" thought Paul, and it was a +terrible thought. "I am not fit to die, I am not fit to go to the +beautiful place of which I was dreaming. Hark! What is that tinkling +sound which I faintly hear? The bells of St. John's Church are ringing +for the midnight service; James Barton will be hastening now to that +church to pray in the New Year. Oh, that I could pray too!" It was the +first time that such a wish had come into the mind of Paul. He had +attended church service hundreds of times, but he had never really +prayed in his life. + +"I can't pray, I can think of no words," groaned the poor boy, as he +swayed his body to and fro; for he was afraid to remain quite still, +and yet was almost too stiff and cold to move about freely. "Perhaps +that hymn may serve as a prayer; I'll try a verse; it may help me to +forget for a few minutes the misery that I am in." + +In a very different way from that in which he had sung a few hours +before, Paul, with trembling voice, attempted to sing— + + "'Then, oh! my Lord, prepare + My soul for that great day.'" + +Paul felt that for him the great day might be near. He no longer felt +sure of "fifty or sixty years" of life. He knew now that he had need of +comfort, of help, of forgiveness. Paul clasped his numbed hands, and +tears came into his eyes as he sang the words of entreaty— + + "'Oh! wash me in Thy precious blood, + And take my sins away.'" + +But how much better was Paul's feeble prayer for mercy, than his late +bold, careless singing of words so solemn and holy! + +Twelve o'clock struck. The New Year had come! Some in London were +praying, many were sleeping, not a few, alas! were drinking in the +Now Year. Again Paul tried to get warmth by walking about, but the +frost was becoming more intense as the night advanced. The moon had +now risen, and dimly shone through the frosted windows. Paul could +distinguish some objects near him, such as the reading-desk, on which +lay the large Bible, that Bible which had been read so often in his +hearing, but to which he had never cared to listen. + +"If I live through this dreadful night, I will try to be a very +different boy to what I have been," thought Paul Harley. "I will try to +be more dutiful to my old grandparents; they have had little comfort in +me. What would not I give now to be more like James, whom I despised +for being so pious! There is no danger of his being driven into outer +darkness. The angels will welcome him, for he loves the Lord whom they +love." + +The weary, weary minutes stole on. It was now nearly one o'clock. +Drowsiness was creeping over Paul, but he knew the danger of sleeping +when the cold is intense; if he slept now, he might never waken again, +or waken in torture. + +"I can only keep myself awake by singing," thought Paul. "I will sing +that hymn over again, and try to think of the words, and to make them +indeed a New Year's prayer." + +Paul sang, and this time loudly, for he was calling on God from the +heart, and so threw his whole soul into the hymn. + +"Who is singing there—at this hour?" cried a voice from outside. + +Paul sprang to his feet with almost a cry of delight. + +"I'm Paul Harley—I'm locked in—I'm almost frozen!" he shouted with the +utmost strength of his voice. + +"Paul Harley!" echoed the speaker without. + +"Oh! Run, run—quick as light—and get the key of the church!" cried Paul. + +"Trust James Barton for that!" cried the voice, and off rushed the +speaker at full speed. + +Yes, it was James, who, returning from the church where he had prayed +in the New Year, had taken his homeward way through the churchyard of +that in which poor Paul was looked up. It was not James' shortest way +home, but he had chosen it because St. Mary's church and churchyard +would look, he thought, so beautiful in the moonlight, robed in their +winter mantle of snow. James had been not a little surprised to hear +the sound of Paul's hymn in a spot so lonely and quiet. But for that +sound, James would have passed the church without suspecting that any +one was shivering and starving within it. + +I have not space to describe how James ran, as if for his life, to the +house of the clerk of St. Mary's, and rang so furiously at the bell, +that the poor man, his wife, and all his family, thought that the place +was on fire. It is enough to say that James was trusted with the church +key, for his character was known to the clerk, and back he hastened to +the church. The big key was turned in the lock, the heavy door swung +back on its hinges, the imprisoned Paul was set free; and with what a +hearty grasp of the hand did he thank his kind deliverer! + +"Come to our home for the rest of the night," said James; "mother will +bid you heartily welcome, I'm sure of that. She is sitting up to give +me my hot supper on my return from church, and I need not say how glad +I shall be for you to share it." + +Very thankfully was the invitation accepted. Paul felt as if new life +were poured into his frozen veins when he sat by a glowing fire, and +drank hot steaming soup. Before he went to rest, he had confessed +to James the wrong he had done him by spoiling his ship, and asked +forgiveness for that and other acts of unkindness. + +"Let bygones be bygones," said James, smiling; "this is New Year's day +you know; let us both resolve, by God's help, to begin it well, and +make a better use of our time than we ever have done before." + +Paul did make the resolve, and earnestly and prayerfully tried to keep +it. He was a better and happier being to the end of his life for his +adventure on New Year's Eve. + + + + + + JOE'S LETTER + + _A New Year's Story_ + + + BY A.L.O.E. + + _Author of "The Claremont Tales,"_ + _"The White Bear's Den," &c._ + + + [Illustration] + + + MARSHALL BROTHERS, LTD. + + LONDON, EDINBURGH. + + + + + JOE'S LETTER + + BY A.L.O.E. + + + +[Illustration: "No, Granny, I can't see him."] + + + + JOE'S LETTER + + A New Year's Story. + + —————— + +CHAPTER I. + +"GO again, child, and see if the postman ben't coming down the lane! +It's past nine, sure he ought to be here!" + +This was the third time that old Janet Jones had sent her little Annie +out into the snow, on the last day of the year. It was clear that the +cottager was expecting the postman to bring her some very important +letter indeed. + +"No, Granny, I can't see him," said Annie, as for the third time she +came back from the road, shaking the flakes from her hair, and stamping +the snow from her boots. "Perhaps our old clock is wrong." + +"Everything is wrong, I think," muttered Janet Jones, who was employed +in taking some filberts out of a basket, to put in glasses to sell in +her window. "Half these nuts are bad, and only fit for the fire!" And +into the fire she flung some that were indeed but empty husks. + +"Yes," went on the old woman, knitting her brows into very deep +furrows, "the old year ends badly enough with me. The pig dead, the +potatoes bad, the weather sharp, and the pocket empty. These be very +hard times!" + +"But Joe, dear Joe, is sure to send you money, Granny," said Annie, who +stood leaning against the wall. She did not sit down, for she expected +soon to be sent a fourth time to look for the postman. + +"Joseph ought to," replied Janet, as sharply as if the child had said +that her brother would send not a penny. "He, a great tall fellow, +earning good wages, fifteen pounds a year, and everything found, +feeding on the fat of the land, and dressed as smart as a goldfinch! It +will be hard if he can't spare something for his poor old Granny in her +need." + +"Joe will—I know that he will. He loves you so much," cried Annie. + +"We'll soon see how much," said old Janet, "words without deeds are +like husks without seeds." And angrily she threw another rotten nut +into the fire. + +Annie, to take off her grandmother's mind from her troubles, began to +tell her what she had seen the day before at the Hall, when sent up +with some work done for the ladies. + +"Oh! Granny, I wish you'd been with me yesterday, and seen the +Christmas presents which Mrs. Poler has given her nieces! There was +a doll, dressed just like a lady, and the prettiest little set of +tea-things." + +"What do I care about hearing of such trash," cried old Janet. "Mrs. +Poler had better spend her money on buying tea for them as wants it, +than on giving children tea-cups no bigger than filberts." + +Annie was afraid to remind her Granny how kind Mrs. Poler had been in +filling her own little apron with apples to carry home to old Janet, or +to mention the hundredweight of coals which the lady had sent before +Christmas. Annie only remarked, "I suppose that Mrs. Poler gives toys +to her nieces because she loves them so much." + +"Giving toys when one has lots of money to buy them with is no great +proof of love," cried the old woman. "When these little ladies had +the smallpox, Mrs. Poler never so much as went near them, for fear of +catching it." + +"Perhaps Mrs. Poler knew that she could not nurse them; not every one +can nurse as you do, Granny," said the child. "What care you took of +Joe when he had that bad fall down an area, and broke his poor leg, the +very first month that he went into service in London." + +"Ah! Poor fellow, he slipped on the steps one cold, frosty day; and his +master sent him all the way here to be nursed, for he knew that no one +would look after him like his old Granny. Didn't I sit up three nights +with my boy when the pain made the fever run high; and didn't I tear up +my own handkerchiefs into bandages for his leg, and half starve myself +to scrape up money to pay the doctor?" + +"Joe will never forget all you did," said Annie. + +"I hope that he'll give a proof now that he does not," began Janet, +when she caught a sight through the window of some one coming up to the +door. "Here's the postman at last!" she exclaimed, starting up from her +seat in such a hurry that she knocked over her basket, and sent a good +many of her nuts flying in every direction over her cottage floor. + +Annie flew to the door, the postman had no need to knock. "Here's the +letter—the letter from Joe!" cried the little girl, joyfully, as she +returned with the note. "I was sure, quite sure, that he would write +soon!" + +"I hope that he has done something more than merely write," said Janet, +looking very anxious, with mingled hope and fear in her face as she +broke open her grandson's letter. When she had taken out the written +sheet, instead of reading it, she shook it to see if any money-order +would drop out, then looked into the empty envelope, and muttered in a +tone of great disappointment, "I made sure of one pound at least! Did +I not write to him that the rent must be paid to-morrow, or that we +should both be turned out of doors." + +"Won't you read Joe's letter, dear Granny?" asked Annie; she was very +anxious to hear it. + +"You read it to me, child, my eyes are getting dim with old age," said +the old woman, giving her the note. + +Annie glanced up at her Granny, and saw that the dimness came from +something besides age, for the eyes of Janet were brimful of tears +which were ready to flow over. + +Annie read out as follows:— + + "Dear Granny, I am very sorry indeed that the pig is dead, and you in +such trouble, but I hope that things will be brighter soon. I have +hardly a minute for writing, but will soon let you hear again. I wish +you and Annie a happy New Year, and send lots of love to you both; from +your loving grandson, Joseph." + +"Is that all?" asked Janet almost fiercely. + +"I have not missed a word," replied Annie. She spoke sadly for she was +as much disappointed as her Granny could be, though she was not, like +her, angry besides. + +"Then you may just fling that letter into the fire after the rotten +nuts!" exclaimed Janet, trembling with vexation. "After all I wrote to +him about the potatoes and the rent, to think of his not sending so +much as a sixpence to his Granny, who nursed him when sick, and fed him +and cared for him—ungrateful, selfish fellow that he is!" + +"Oh! Granny," interrupted the poor little sister, who could not bear to +hear such hard words spoken of Joe. + +"He 'is' selfish," repeated old Janet. "Did he not buy himself a silver +watch last summer, I guess that cost him a pretty bit of money, enough +to clear off my debt for rent—and more. Think of his buying himself a +watch, and leaving his Granny and his sister to be turned out of doors +for want of a couple of pounds! 'Lots of love' he sends us, does he! +I'd not give a crooked pin for such love! I like proofs, real proofs of +love. I've given him many many such, though now he forgets them all!" +Poor Janet put her thin hands before her face to hide the big drops +that were now running fast down her wrinkled cheeks. + +"Granny, do let us 'trust' Joe," said Annie softly. "Perhaps he could +not send any money, he may have spent all before he heard of your +trouble." + +"He might have written so then," said Janet, drying her eyes. "No, no, +in the fine big house in London he forgets all about the poor little +cottage which was his home for many a day. While he feasts like a lord +with meat twice a day, what does it matter to him if we have not so +much as a bit of bacon even on Sundays? He might have thought of 'you,' +Annie, my poor child, if my trouble was nothing to him." + +"I am 'sure' that Joe loves me," said Annie firmly, her cheeks flushing +red at the thought that any one should doubt it. + +For Annie remembered the old times before Joe had first gone into +service. He had been the kindest of brothers to his little sister, who +was many years younger than he. Many a ride had Annie had on Joe's +knee, or upon his shoulder. Many a sugar-plum or cake the generous boy +had given to his sister instead of eating it himself. What pains Joe +had taken to make for Annie a beautiful boat as a parting present! +Annie had thought it then the prettiest boat in the world, and after +six years she thought so still. There was the boat now on its shelf, +always kept nicely dusted by Annie, and almost as good as new, +reminding her every day of Joe. + +Oh! Young brothers, if you only knew how much power you have by words +and deeds of kindness to make your little sisters happy, and win their +lifelong love, you would not so often give pain to them when you might +so easily give pleasure! Annie had never had from Joe one rough word, +far less one thoughtless blow. He would far rather have hurt himself +than have hurt his little sister. Annie looked up now at the boat, her +brother's keepsake, and could not and would not doubt his love. She +was quite able to trust him, and her greatest pain was to see that her +grandmother did not. + +Perhaps my reader is inclined to think that Janet was a cross, +ill-tempered old woman, proud of what she had done for others, and +expecting others to do a great deal for her in return. And yet Janet +was an honest and kind-hearted woman, one who loved her Bible, and +never passed a Sunday without going to church. Janet feared God, and +tried to obey His commandments, but she had not yet learned to trust +His love. Janet let the wicked thought lurk in her heart that if the +Lord really cared for her, He would not leave her to be so poor. And if +old Janet thus dared to doubt the love of her heavenly Father, who can +wonder if she doubted the love of earthly friends! This want of trust +made every trial that came to her doubly heavy to Janet; this made her +temper cross, and filled her with bitter thoughts. + +There are many who sin like Janet, without half the excuse which she +had for her discontented spirit. Janet had had very great trials to +bear. Once she had been well-off; she had lived with her good husband +in a pretty thatched cottage, and had been as happy and contented a +woman as any in the village. But in one year, poor Janet had lost both +her husband and her married daughter,—and with an almost broken heart +had received her two grandchildren into her home. Even that home was +not to be left to her long. + +One day as the widow was returning from a distant field in which she +had been helping to reap, she saw thick volumes of smoke rising from +the direction of her cottage above the trees which hid it from view. +With a feeling of fear she rushed forwards, and terrible was the sight +which was soon before her eyes. Her pretty cottage was in flames, the +thatch was burning fiercely, and though an engine had come from the +town, and firemen and neighbours were doing their best to put out the +fire, they could not succeed, and what was once a comfortable home was +soon but a heap of ashes. Janet Jones was then, not only a widow, but a +very poor widow, and hard work she had had to bring up the two orphan +children left to her charge. These were no small troubles, and others, +in Janet's place, might have been sorely tempted to murmur. + +"I wish that 'I' could give poor Granny some proof of love," thought +little Annie. "But I have nothing to give, not one penny! To-morrow is +New Year's day, and it will be such a sad day to her. Is there nothing +that I could do to please her?" + +Now when we think hard to discover some way of pleasing a friend, we +are pretty sure to find one. + +"I remember," said Annie to herself, "that there was a hymn which took +Granny's fancy in a book which Mrs. Brown lent us to read last summer. +Granny wished that I could write well enough to copy it out fair on the +flyleaf of her large Bible. I can write now much better than I could +then. I have no New Year's present to give, but I might copy out that +hymn; I am sure that Mrs. Brown would lend me the book again if I asked +her. But this is such a little, such a 'very' little thing to do for my +Granny. Ah! I would do much more if I earned wages like Joe!" + +Copying out a hymn was a very little thing, but it was a "proof of +love," and a proof that cost Annie some self-denial. She did not like +writing at all, and she knew that it would take her hours to copy out +six verses quite neatly, taking care not to make one blot. She resolved +however to do so, and ran out again into the snow, and went over to +Mrs. Brown's to ask her to lend her the book. + +Mrs. Brown had a large cheerful home, and four merry little children +full of play. + +"Oh! Annie, we're so glad you've come!" cried the eldest, clapping her +hands as Annie entered. + +"I hope you'll stop all day with us," said kind Mrs. Brown, who knew +that the girl had a very dull home. + +"Oh! Yes,—stop, stop!" cried Charlie Brown. "We're to have roast beef +and roley-poley, 'cause it's the last day in the year." + +"And grandfather's coming, and he tells us such famous stories,—we'll +have games, and all sorts of fun!" exclaimed little Bess. + +Annie longed to stop to share the food and the fun. She hesitated, but +only for a moment. She had real love for her Granny, and gave a proof +of it at once. + +"No, thank you so much," she said, "but I cannot leave poor Granny to +spend the last day of the year by herself." + +Annie soon returned to her cottage with the book containing the hymn. +She got down the little bottle of ink, and a pen, and began her copying +work, while old Janet sat gloomy and sad by the fire, never speaking a +word except to abuse ungrateful Joe. + +It was well that Annie had to give much attention to what she was +doing, so that she scarcely heard what her Granny was muttering to +herself. The verses are so beautiful that they took up Annie's thoughts +as she wrote. They are so suitable for the New Year that I will copy +them out for my readers, as Annie did for her Granny. I wish that each +would learn by heart the loving questions which the Saviour, in this +hymn, asks alike of the old and the young: + + "I gave My life for thee, + My precious blood I shed, + That thou mightest ransomed be, + And quickened from the dead. + I give My life for thee, + WHAT HAST THOU GIVEN FOR ME? + + "I spent long years for thee, + In weariness and woe, + That one eternity + Of joy thou mightest know. + I spent long years for thee, + Hast thou spent ONE for Me? + + "My Father's house of light, + My rainbow-circled throne, + I left for earthly night, + For wand'rings sad and lone. + I left it all for thee, + Hast thou left AUGHT for Me? + + "I suffered much for thee, + More than thy tongue can tell, + Of bitterest agony, + To rescue thee from Hell. + I suffered much for thee, + WHAT DOST THOU BEAR FOR ME? + + "And I have brought to thee, + Down from My home above, + Salvation full and free, + My pardon, and My love. + Great gifts I brought to thee, + WHAT HAST THOU BROUGHT TO ME? + + "Oh! let thy life be given, + Thy years for Me be spent + World fetters all be riven, + And joy with suffering blent, + I gave MYSELF for thee, + Give thou THYSELF to Me?" + + + +CHAPTER II. + +NEW YEAR'S morning dawned bright and clear; the pure snow gleamed like +diamonds in the rays of the glorious sun, but old Janet rose with a +heavy heart and a gloomy brow. She thought of the landlord calling for +the rent; she thought of her neighbours in their merry homes, and of +her grandson living in comfort in London; she thought of everyone being +happy but herself. If Janet thought also of God, I fear that it was +with little faith, little trust. She was so gloomy and sad that she did +not even smile at poor Annie when they first met, or wish her a happy +New Year. + +Annie watched her Granny as she went up to the table on which lay her +large Bible open at the place where the child, as neatly as she could, +had copied out the hymn. Annie saw her Granny take out her spectacles, +slowly wipe them, put them on, and then sit down to read, as she always +read while the water was boiling for breakfast. + +"I hope that Granny will be pleased," thought Annie. "I hope that she +will like the hymn now as she did in the summer, and know that I copied +it out as a little proof of my love. But dear me! What is the matter! +Granny is crying—crying over the hymn!" + +For as the old woman read the Saviour's questions to her own heart, +first her lip trembled, then her eyes dimmed with tears, and she had +to take off her spectacles and wipe them before she could read any +farther. At last, when she had reached the sixth verse, the poor old +woman murmured to herself, "ungrateful sinner that I am!" and fairly +burst into tears. + +"Oh! Granny, I never meant to write out anything to vex you, I never +thought that hymn would make you cry!" exclaimed Annie, quite in +distress. + +"Is it not enough to make me cry to think that my Lord has done all +this for me, sinner that I am," sobbed old Janet, speaking not to +Annie, but to herself, "to think that He should have given Himself for +'me,' suffered for 'me,' died for 'me,' and that all the return which I +made is to doubt Him now! What proof of love could the dear Lord have +given more than He gave! He kept back nothing, not even His life! And +I—I have been finding fault with a poor lad for forgetting the little +kindness which I have shown, the little trouble which I have taken, +while all the while I was ungrateful to the Lord, who has done for me a +thousand—thousand times more than ever woman did for a child!" + +The words of the beautiful verses had indeed gone straight to the heart +of Janet, and awoke in it sorrow and repentance, but other feelings +besides. Janet felt love, grateful love to Him who had first loved her; +and with love came peace, and hope, and trust, for He who had done so +much for her soul would, as she now felt sure, never, never forsake her. + +Annie scarcely knew whether to be glad or sorry that she had written +out the hymn. But she had soon something else to take up her attention. + +"Why, Granny, here's the postman coming again," cried out the child in +surprise; for to have letters two days running was a thing which had +never happened before to old Janet. + +Annie ran to the door to take in the letter, and returned with a face +beaming with joy. "It's Joe's hand—he has written again," she cried, as +she gave the note to her Granny. + +Janet had her spectacles on, and she opened the letter herself, but +as she did so, a little paper dropped fluttering to the floor. Annie +picked it up, and almost screamed with delight as she saw "three +pounds" written on a post-office order. + +Janet clasped her wrinkled hands and softly exclaimed, "Thank God!" +then with a trembling voice read aloud the following letter. + + "Dear Granny, I had not enough money yesterday to get you clear out of +trouble, and did not like to do more than let you know that I had got +your note, till I should find how much my watch would sell for. I am +pleased now to send £3; it is more than you will need for the rent, but +I want you to have a real good dinner on New Year's day,—and please, +with the rest of the money, buy a nice warm cloak for Annie, from me." + +Annie kissed her brother's letter again and again; her heart was full +of love and joy. + +"I hope that it's not wrong," she said, smiling as she examined the +post-office order, "but I can't help wishing that I could give such a +'proof of love' as Joe has done." + +"Your little hymn has done as much—more for me than this money-order," +said old Janet, with a trembling hand taking the paper from the child. +"This order shows me that I did wrong to doubt the love of my boy, but +the hymn has shown me how faithless and sinful it was in me ever, for +one moment, to doubt the love of my Saviour!" + + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77088 *** diff --git a/77088-h/77088-h.htm b/77088-h/77088-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5c7863e --- /dev/null +++ b/77088-h/77088-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1109 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Paul Harley's Dream, by A. L. O. E. │ Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/image001.jpg" type="image/cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size:12.0pt; + font-family:"Verdana"; +} + +p {text-indent: 2em;} + + 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: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} + +.w100 { + width: auto + } + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 125%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t2 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3b { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center + } + +p.t4 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center + } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.poem { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + padding: 20px 0; + text-align: left; + width: 555px; + } + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77088 ***</div> + +<p>Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image001" style="max-width: 33.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image001.jpg" alt="image001"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h1>PAUL HARLEY'S DREAM</h1> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>[AND]</b><br> +</p> + +<p class="t2"> +<b>[JOE'S LETTER]</b><br> +<br> +<em>[A New Year's Story]</em><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t1"> +BY A.L.O.E.<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +<em>Author of "The Claremont Tales,"</em><br> +<em>"The White Bear's Den," &c.</em><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image002" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image002.jpg" alt="image002"></figure> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +MARSHALL BROTHERS, LTD.<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +LONDON, EDINBURGH.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +CONTENTS.<br> +<br> +——————<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p><a href="#PAUL_H">PAUL HARLEY'S DREAM</a></p> + +<p><a href="#PAUL_Ch_1"><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">CHAPTER I. PAUL</span></a></p> + +<p><a href="#PAUL_Ch_2"><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">CHAPTER II. THE DREAM</span></a></p> + +<p><a href="#JOE_L">JOE'S LETTER</a></p> + +<p><a href="#JOE_Ch_1"><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">CHAPTER I.</span></a></p> + +<p><a href="#JOE_Ch_2"><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">CHAPTER II.</span></a></p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t2"> +<b><a id="PAUL_H">PAUL HARLEY'S DREAM</a></b><br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +BY A.L.O.E.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image003" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image003.jpg" alt="image003"></figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>"It stops all fun!" cried Paul.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t2"> +<b>PAUL HARLEY'S DREAM</b><br> +</p> + +<p class="t1"> +A Tale.<br> +<br> +——————<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="PAUL_Ch_1">CHAPTER I.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b><em>PAUL.</em></b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"I DO think it, and I will say it!" cried Paul Harley, with impatience. +"Of all days in the week, a Sunday is the worst for New Year's Eve. +It stops all fun, all larking, all hope of adventure. The New Year +steals in like a thief when one is fast asleep in bed; unless, like +that stupid fellow James Barton, one goes to some midnight service in +church, to pray in the New Year, as he says. As if one had not had +enough of that sort of thing all the Sunday!"</p> + +<p>"My dear boy—" began his grandfather, Silas Harley, an aged man, who +sat with his arm leaning on the table, and his Bible before him.</p> + +<p>What Harley was going to say I cannot tell, for his grandson cut him +short. Paul had been to school, and had learned many things there, of +the knowledge of which he was not a little vain. But one thing, worth +more than mere book-lore, he had not learned, which was to honour his +father and his mother, which includes grandparents also. Paul was +puffed up with pride, as a balloon is puffed out with gas.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image004" style="max-width: 30.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image004.jpg" alt="image004"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>He stood erect by the table, grasping the back of a chair, and looking +down on the venerable man before him, whose white hair Paul should have +honoured, with a saucy look, which seemed to say, "I don't want advice +from you!"</p> + +<p>"I wish that I could do this year what I did on last New Year's Eve," +cried Paul. "A lot of us young fellows got on the top of a coach, and +were off to Enfield for a spree at a farm. How the horses plunged +through the snow; we were upset as nearly as could be!"</p> + +<p>"No great fun in that," observed Harley.</p> + +<p>"We had no end of snow-balling each other at Gale's farm, as long as +daylight lasted," continued Paul; "and when night came on, we had +dancing 'under the misletoe bough.' Ah! That night, what a merry one +it was! We were just in the midst of a dance, hands round and down the +middle, when the clock struck twelve, and in came the New Year!"</p> + +<p>"And Sunday too," observed old Mrs. Harley, who was seated by her +husband. "I hope, Paul, that you left off your dancing?"</p> + +<p>Paul only, in reply, gave a saucy laugh, which pained his good +grandparents. They had brought up the orphan boy ever since he had been +a helpless baby, and had now, in return for their loving care, but +disrespect and disobedience.</p> + +<p>On the year of which I am writing, the thirty-first of December fell +on a Sunday, and it was on the evening of this Sunday that Paul stood +talking to his grandparents in the little parlour of their home, in one +of the suburbs of London.</p> + +<p>"We were sorry not to have you with us at church this morning, Paul," +observed Harley. The old man and his feeble wife had with no small +difficulty made their way to the house of prayer, to praise their Maker +for mercies received through the closing year, and to ask for His +blessing on the year so soon to open. The New Year to one or both of +them, as they thought, was likely to be the last, but neither of them +feared to "go home" to the rest prepared for the people of God.</p> + +<p>"I don't care to go to morning service," replied Paul, bluntly; "I take +my ease, and lie late in bed on Sundays, at least in such freezing +weather as this. But I mean to go to-night to seven o'clock service; +for I like to see the church all lit up, with the gas-lights flaring on +the evergreens and the wreaths with which it is decked. I like, too, +the hymn which is to be sung, it has such a pretty tune." And without +the least reverence of manner, Paul rather bawled out than sang the +first lines of a well-known hymn—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<br> +"'A few more years shall roll,<br> + A few more seasons come,<br> + And we shall be with those who sleep<br> + At rest within the tomb.'"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>"Hush, my dear child, hush!" cried Mrs. Harley, with a shocked look. +"You don't seem to think of the meaning of the words which you are +singing."</p> + +<p>Paul took no notice of the gentle reproof. "It's time for me to be off +to church," said he; "it must be just on seven; I think the bells have +stopped their ringing. Don't stay supper for me; I'm going to Uncle +Sam's after I've been at church; he's to have lobster salad for supper +on New Year's Eve, and I like that a deal better than your porridge. I +mean to stop the night at Uncle Sam's, and get some fun with his boys +on New Year's morning."</p> + +<p>"Take your comforter!" cried the grandmother. "You're not the lad to +stand sharp cold; remember that you nearly died of rheumatic fever last +March!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to coddle myself like an old woman!" exclaimed the boy. +"Cold only catches those who have to creep like snails!" Paul took down +his cap from its peg as he spoke, and went off to church, certainly not +in a mood either to praise or to pray.</p> + +<p>The church was not full on New Year's Eve, for the weather was so +extremely cold that some persons who would otherwise have come, dared +not brave the piercing night air. Paul took his usual place in a dark +part of the church, where he could see without being much seen. He sat +during the prayers, and stared about him. Paul looked at the wreaths +and the gas-lights, noticed the fashion of the ladies' bonnets, and +amused himself with his own thoughts. There was no reverence either in +the posture or in the spirit of Paul. He behaved himself in the house +set apart for the worship of the Almighty as he would not have dared to +behave in the Queen's palace; nay, as he would not have dared to behave +in any gentleman's private dwelling.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image005" style="max-width: 30.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image005.jpg" alt="image005"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Paul's body was in church, but his heart was not there. Now he thought +of to-morrow's sports, now of his lobster supper. Then the lad's +thoughts took a more evil course. Malice and spite were shown in such +reflections as these:—</p> + +<p>"I wonder how that James Barton can bear to stay up till midnight in a +church! 'Pray in the New Year,' to be sure! That may be well enough for +old folk, who are not likely to live many more years, but young chaps +like James and me have fifty or sixty before us, and I can't see the +use of all that praying. James wants to be thought better than any one +else. He has given up playing skittles on Sundays, and has taken, I +hear, to keeping a missionary-box. Catch me following his example! I've +something better to do with my pennies.</p> + +<p>"I don't like James Barton at all. I have owed him a grudge ever since +our quarrel in a field three years ago, when he got me into a scrape +with a farmer's wife by saying I'd stolen her apples. I've been on the +watch ever since to pay him off for that bit of mischievous meddling. +If I did take the dame's apples, that was no business of his. Fine fun +I had last summer, when I crept up unseen to the neat model of a ship +which James had taken weeks to rig out, and tore her sails, and knocked +a hole in her keel, while he was wandering about in the brushwood +gathering flowers and ferns! I made off as soon as I had done the job, +but I'd have liked to have seen the lad's face, when he came to the +place where he had left his pretty ship, and found her lying broken +and spoiled in the mud! I wonder if he guessed who had played him the +trick? He did not see me, I'm sure of that, for I stole away like a +fox. I suppose that James has now grown so mighty good that, had I +smashed him instead of his ship, he'd have taken it as meek as a lamb. +The next time that we meet, I'll try how he likes a box on the ear."</p> + +<p>But I will put down no more of the worse than idle thoughts which, +even in church, passed through the mind of the boy. I have said quite +enough to show that Paul did not for one moment reflect that he was +in the presence of his Maker; that the eye of God was upon him; that +his secret malice was laid bare unto Him who hath declared in His holy +Word, "The thought of foolishness is sin," Prov. xxiv. 9.</p> + +<p>Paul only gave over making plans for teasing James when the clergyman +gave out the hymn. We have seen that Paul was vain; and of nothing was +he more vain than what he considered to be a very fine voice. A loud +one it was, without doubt, and Paul took care that it should be heard +all over the church.</p> + +<p>A lady, speaking of church music, once said to me, "It makes me tremble +to hear the children sing." My readers may think these very strange +words, but to my mind there was cause for the lady's feeling of fear. +Oh, my young friends, have you ever thought how you may displease the +Lord, even whilst singing a hymn! "Thou shalt not take the name of the +Lord thy God in vain; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who +taketh His name in vain." Is it a light matter to sing of the glory +of the Almighty, or the agonies of His dear Son, as carelessly as if +you were but shouting out some idle ballad? A dark stain of sin was +spreading over the soul of Paul as he boldly sang out, at the top of +his voice, even words so solemn as these:—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<br> +"''Tis but a little time,<br> + And Christ the Lord shall come<br> + To take His ransomed people up<br> + To their eternal home.<br> + Then, oh, my Lord, prepare<br> + My soul for that great day;<br> + Oh, wash me in thy precious blood,<br> + And take my sin away!'"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Paul's hymn-singing was a mockery; his very prayer was "turned into +sin!" What thought he of the great Day of Judgment? What thought he of +the "precious blood," of which he dared so loudly to sing?</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="PAUL_Ch_2">CHAPTER II.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b><em>THE DREAM.</em></b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE hymn was over, and Paul sat down, but not to listen to a word of +the sermon. Good and holy words were spoken, which touched most of the +hearers' hearts, but they never reached the heart of Paul. The boy fell +fast asleep in his dark corner of the church, and there he remained +fast asleep till long after the sermon had been ended, and the blessing +had been given by the preacher.</p> + +<p>Paul not only slept, but he dreamed—a strange and wondrous dream. The +place in which he was seemed to widen, the roof to rise, till instead +of a ceiling above him were clouds of glory, and beneath him a pavement +of gold. There was music, but far sweeter, and more joyful than what +Paul had heard in church. Instead of mortal men and women, shining, +happy beings were around the dreamer, with starry crowns and waving +wings, that glittered like jewels in the glorious light.</p> + +<p>But though all that Paul saw in his dream was beauty and gladness, he +could not delight in the beauty, he could not share in the joy. Paul's +heart felt nothing but dread. He did not belong to the happy band; he +could not join in their song; he feared lest one of the shining ones +should notice that he was there. Paul would fain have hidden himself, +but had no place wherein to hide. Terror seized him when one of the +beautiful angels drew near, and said, "What dost thou here?"</p> + +<p>Paul was dumb, and could not reply. The proud tongue which had so often +repeated holy words without fear had lost all power to utter one now.</p> + +<p>Then Paul seemed to hear the sentence, "Thrust him forth into outer +darkness!" And the start of terror which he gave awakened the boy from +his dream.</p> + +<p>Paul found himself indeed in darkness. The lights in the church had +all been put out; the worshippers had gone to their homes; no one had +noticed the sleeping boy, and he had been locked into the church.</p> + +<p>Paul's first feeling was that of great surprise at finding the church +so still and so dark; his next was that of alarm. He groped his way to +the outer door. How still and dark the place seemed as he moved down +the aisle! And, oh, how terribly cold! The clock struck nine just as +Paul reached the great door. It was locked. Paul shook it, and shook +it again, but had no power to force it open. He called as loudly as he +could, but the church stood in the middle of a large churchyard, no +house was near, and no one heard the boy's voice.</p> + +<p>"Some one will search for me, oh, surely some one will search!" cried +Paul.</p> + +<p>He thought of his loving grandparents, who, old and feeble as they +were, would be sure to brave the piercing cold if they know that their +boy was in danger. But then another thought startled Paul. "Grandfather +will think that I am at my uncle's; he will fancy me seated at his +table beside a blazing fire."</p> + +<p>The contrast between his uncle's pleasant home, with its supper and +cheerful blaze, made his present dreary position seem worse than ever +to the hungry lad. But Paul tried to keep up his courage and warm his +chilled frame by walking up and down the part of the church which was +nearest to the door, stamping his feet and swinging his arms to keep +out the cold.</p> + +<p>Ten o'clock struck. Paul counted each stroke on the bell. How loud and +solemn was the sound!</p> + +<p>"Only ten!" muttered Paul. "I shall have to wait twelve whole hours +before this church is opened to prepare for New Year's service! The New +Year!" he repeated. "Oh! In how wretched a way I shall begin the New +Year! I'll go to sleep in one of the pews, and so try to get over the +time. The night grows colder and colder."</p> + +<p>Paul did snatch a short sleep, but awoke quite cramped and chilled, and +with shoots of rheumatic pain, which frightened him more than anything +else. It was one of the bitterest nights that had ever been known in +England. The boy dared not sleep again lest he should bring back his +dreadful rheumatic fever.</p> + +<p>When eleven o'clock struck, Paul's courage quite gave way. His limbs +were trembling, his teeth were chattering, his blood seemed turning to +ice. He remembered that his grandfather had read in the papers the day +before that four persons had been found frozen to death.</p> + +<p>"What if I should die before morning!" thought Paul, and it was a +terrible thought. "I am not fit to die, I am not fit to go to the +beautiful place of which I was dreaming. Hark! What is that tinkling +sound which I faintly hear? The bells of St. John's Church are ringing +for the midnight service; James Barton will be hastening now to that +church to pray in the New Year. Oh, that I could pray too!" It was the +first time that such a wish had come into the mind of Paul. He had +attended church service hundreds of times, but he had never really +prayed in his life.</p> + +<p>"I can't pray, I can think of no words," groaned the poor boy, as he +swayed his body to and fro; for he was afraid to remain quite still, +and yet was almost too stiff and cold to move about freely. "Perhaps +that hymn may serve as a prayer; I'll try a verse; it may help me to +forget for a few minutes the misery that I am in."</p> + +<p>In a very different way from that in which he had sung a few hours +before, Paul, with trembling voice, attempted to sing—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<br> +"'Then, oh! my Lord, prepare<br> + My soul for that great day.'"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Paul felt that for him the great day might be near. He no longer felt +sure of "fifty or sixty years" of life. He knew now that he had need of +comfort, of help, of forgiveness. Paul clasped his numbed hands, and +tears came into his eyes as he sang the words of entreaty—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<br> +"'Oh! wash me in Thy precious blood,<br> + And take my sins away.'"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>But how much better was Paul's feeble prayer for mercy, than his late +bold, careless singing of words so solemn and holy!</p> + +<p>Twelve o'clock struck. The New Year had come! Some in London were +praying, many were sleeping, not a few, alas! were drinking in the +Now Year. Again Paul tried to get warmth by walking about, but the +frost was becoming more intense as the night advanced. The moon had +now risen, and dimly shone through the frosted windows. Paul could +distinguish some objects near him, such as the reading-desk, on which +lay the large Bible, that Bible which had been read so often in his +hearing, but to which he had never cared to listen.</p> + +<p>"If I live through this dreadful night, I will try to be a very +different boy to what I have been," thought Paul Harley. "I will try to +be more dutiful to my old grandparents; they have had little comfort in +me. What would not I give now to be more like James, whom I despised +for being so pious! There is no danger of his being driven into outer +darkness. The angels will welcome him, for he loves the Lord whom they +love."</p> + +<p>The weary, weary minutes stole on. It was now nearly one o'clock. +Drowsiness was creeping over Paul, but he knew the danger of sleeping +when the cold is intense; if he slept now, he might never waken again, +or waken in torture.</p> + +<p>"I can only keep myself awake by singing," thought Paul. "I will sing +that hymn over again, and try to think of the words, and to make them +indeed a New Year's prayer."</p> + +<p>Paul sang, and this time loudly, for he was calling on God from the +heart, and so threw his whole soul into the hymn.</p> + +<p>"Who is singing there—at this hour?" cried a voice from outside.</p> + +<p>Paul sprang to his feet with almost a cry of delight.</p> + +<p>"I'm Paul Harley—I'm locked in—I'm almost frozen!" he shouted with the +utmost strength of his voice.</p> + +<p>"Paul Harley!" echoed the speaker without.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Run, run—quick as light—and get the key of the church!" cried Paul.</p> + +<p>"Trust James Barton for that!" cried the voice, and off rushed the +speaker at full speed.</p> + +<p>Yes, it was James, who, returning from the church where he had prayed +in the New Year, had taken his homeward way through the churchyard of +that in which poor Paul was looked up. It was not James' shortest way +home, but he had chosen it because St. Mary's church and churchyard +would look, he thought, so beautiful in the moonlight, robed in their +winter mantle of snow. James had been not a little surprised to hear +the sound of Paul's hymn in a spot so lonely and quiet. But for that +sound, James would have passed the church without suspecting that any +one was shivering and starving within it.</p> + +<p>I have not space to describe how James ran, as if for his life, to the +house of the clerk of St. Mary's, and rang so furiously at the bell, +that the poor man, his wife, and all his family, thought that the place +was on fire. It is enough to say that James was trusted with the church +key, for his character was known to the clerk, and back he hastened to +the church. The big key was turned in the lock, the heavy door swung +back on its hinges, the imprisoned Paul was set free; and with what a +hearty grasp of the hand did he thank his kind deliverer!</p> + +<p>"Come to our home for the rest of the night," said James; "mother will +bid you heartily welcome, I'm sure of that. She is sitting up to give +me my hot supper on my return from church, and I need not say how glad +I shall be for you to share it."</p> + +<p>Very thankfully was the invitation accepted. Paul felt as if new life +were poured into his frozen veins when he sat by a glowing fire, and +drank hot steaming soup. Before he went to rest, he had confessed +to James the wrong he had done him by spoiling his ship, and asked +forgiveness for that and other acts of unkindness.</p> + +<p>"Let bygones be bygones," said James, smiling; "this is New Year's day +you know; let us both resolve, by God's help, to begin it well, and +make a better use of our time than we ever have done before."</p> + +<p>Paul did make the resolve, and earnestly and prayerfully tried to keep +it. He was a better and happier being to the end of his life for his +adventure on New Year's Eve.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t2"> +<b>JOE'S LETTER</b><br> +<br> +<em>A New Year's Story</em><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t1"> +BY A.L.O.E.<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +<em>Author of "The Claremont Tales,"</em><br> +<em>"The White Bear's Den," &c.</em><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image006" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image006.jpg" alt="image006"></figure> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +MARSHALL BROTHERS, LTD.<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +LONDON, EDINBURGH.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t2"> +<b><a id="JOE_L">JOE'S LETTER</a></b><br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +BY A.L.O.E.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image007" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image007.jpg" alt="image007"></figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>"No, Granny, I can't see him."</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t2"> +<b>JOE'S LETTER</b><br> +</p> + +<p class="t1"> +A New Year's Story.<br> +<br> +——————<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="JOE_Ch_1">CHAPTER I.</a></h3> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"GO again, child, and see if the postman ben't coming down the lane! +It's past nine, sure he ought to be here!"</p> + +<p>This was the third time that old Janet Jones had sent her little Annie +out into the snow, on the last day of the year. It was clear that the +cottager was expecting the postman to bring her some very important +letter indeed.</p> + +<p>"No, Granny, I can't see him," said Annie, as for the third time she +came back from the road, shaking the flakes from her hair, and stamping +the snow from her boots. "Perhaps our old clock is wrong."</p> + +<p>"Everything is wrong, I think," muttered Janet Jones, who was employed +in taking some filberts out of a basket, to put in glasses to sell in +her window. "Half these nuts are bad, and only fit for the fire!" And +into the fire she flung some that were indeed but empty husks.</p> + +<p>"Yes," went on the old woman, knitting her brows into very deep +furrows, "the old year ends badly enough with me. The pig dead, the +potatoes bad, the weather sharp, and the pocket empty. These be very +hard times!"</p> + +<p>"But Joe, dear Joe, is sure to send you money, Granny," said Annie, who +stood leaning against the wall. She did not sit down, for she expected +soon to be sent a fourth time to look for the postman.</p> + +<p>"Joseph ought to," replied Janet, as sharply as if the child had said +that her brother would send not a penny. "He, a great tall fellow, +earning good wages, fifteen pounds a year, and everything found, +feeding on the fat of the land, and dressed as smart as a goldfinch! It +will be hard if he can't spare something for his poor old Granny in her +need."</p> + +<p>"Joe will—I know that he will. He loves you so much," cried Annie.</p> + +<p>"We'll soon see how much," said old Janet, "words without deeds are +like husks without seeds." And angrily she threw another rotten nut +into the fire.</p> + +<p>Annie, to take off her grandmother's mind from her troubles, began to +tell her what she had seen the day before at the Hall, when sent up +with some work done for the ladies.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Granny, I wish you'd been with me yesterday, and seen the +Christmas presents which Mrs. Poler has given her nieces! There was +a doll, dressed just like a lady, and the prettiest little set of +tea-things."</p> + +<p>"What do I care about hearing of such trash," cried old Janet. "Mrs. +Poler had better spend her money on buying tea for them as wants it, +than on giving children tea-cups no bigger than filberts."</p> + +<p>Annie was afraid to remind her Granny how kind Mrs. Poler had been in +filling her own little apron with apples to carry home to old Janet, or +to mention the hundredweight of coals which the lady had sent before +Christmas. Annie only remarked, "I suppose that Mrs. Poler gives toys +to her nieces because she loves them so much."</p> + +<p>"Giving toys when one has lots of money to buy them with is no great +proof of love," cried the old woman. "When these little ladies had +the smallpox, Mrs. Poler never so much as went near them, for fear of +catching it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Mrs. Poler knew that she could not nurse them; not every one +can nurse as you do, Granny," said the child. "What care you took of +Joe when he had that bad fall down an area, and broke his poor leg, the +very first month that he went into service in London."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Poor fellow, he slipped on the steps one cold, frosty day; and his +master sent him all the way here to be nursed, for he knew that no one +would look after him like his old Granny. Didn't I sit up three nights +with my boy when the pain made the fever run high; and didn't I tear up +my own handkerchiefs into bandages for his leg, and half starve myself +to scrape up money to pay the doctor?"</p> + +<p>"Joe will never forget all you did," said Annie.</p> + +<p>"I hope that he'll give a proof now that he does not," began Janet, +when she caught a sight through the window of some one coming up to the +door. "Here's the postman at last!" she exclaimed, starting up from her +seat in such a hurry that she knocked over her basket, and sent a good +many of her nuts flying in every direction over her cottage floor.</p> + +<p>Annie flew to the door, the postman had no need to knock. "Here's the +letter—the letter from Joe!" cried the little girl, joyfully, as she +returned with the note. "I was sure, quite sure, that he would write +soon!"</p> + +<p>"I hope that he has done something more than merely write," said Janet, +looking very anxious, with mingled hope and fear in her face as she +broke open her grandson's letter. When she had taken out the written +sheet, instead of reading it, she shook it to see if any money-order +would drop out, then looked into the empty envelope, and muttered in a +tone of great disappointment, "I made sure of one pound at least! Did +I not write to him that the rent must be paid to-morrow, or that we +should both be turned out of doors."</p> + +<p>"Won't you read Joe's letter, dear Granny?" asked Annie; she was very +anxious to hear it.</p> + +<p>"You read it to me, child, my eyes are getting dim with old age," said +the old woman, giving her the note.</p> + +<p>Annie glanced up at her Granny, and saw that the dimness came from +something besides age, for the eyes of Janet were brimful of tears +which were ready to flow over.</p> + +<p>Annie read out as follows:—</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "Dear Granny, I am very sorry indeed that the pig is dead, and you in +such trouble, but I hope that things will be brighter soon. I have +hardly a minute for writing, but will soon let you hear again. I wish +you and Annie a happy New Year, and send lots of love to you both; from +your loving grandson, Joseph."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>"Is that all?" asked Janet almost fiercely.</p> + +<p>"I have not missed a word," replied Annie. She spoke sadly for she was +as much disappointed as her Granny could be, though she was not, like +her, angry besides.</p> + +<p>"Then you may just fling that letter into the fire after the rotten +nuts!" exclaimed Janet, trembling with vexation. "After all I wrote to +him about the potatoes and the rent, to think of his not sending so +much as a sixpence to his Granny, who nursed him when sick, and fed him +and cared for him—ungrateful, selfish fellow that he is!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Granny," interrupted the poor little sister, who could not bear to +hear such hard words spoken of Joe.</p> + +<p>"He 'is' selfish," repeated old Janet. "Did he not buy himself a silver +watch last summer, I guess that cost him a pretty bit of money, enough +to clear off my debt for rent—and more. Think of his buying himself a +watch, and leaving his Granny and his sister to be turned out of doors +for want of a couple of pounds! 'Lots of love' he sends us, does he! +I'd not give a crooked pin for such love! I like proofs, real proofs of +love. I've given him many many such, though now he forgets them all!" +Poor Janet put her thin hands before her face to hide the big drops +that were now running fast down her wrinkled cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Granny, do let us 'trust' Joe," said Annie softly. "Perhaps he could +not send any money, he may have spent all before he heard of your +trouble."</p> + +<p>"He might have written so then," said Janet, drying her eyes. "No, no, +in the fine big house in London he forgets all about the poor little +cottage which was his home for many a day. While he feasts like a lord +with meat twice a day, what does it matter to him if we have not so +much as a bit of bacon even on Sundays? He might have thought of 'you,' +Annie, my poor child, if my trouble was nothing to him."</p> + +<p>"I am 'sure' that Joe loves me," said Annie firmly, her cheeks flushing +red at the thought that any one should doubt it.</p> + +<p>For Annie remembered the old times before Joe had first gone into +service. He had been the kindest of brothers to his little sister, who +was many years younger than he. Many a ride had Annie had on Joe's +knee, or upon his shoulder. Many a sugar-plum or cake the generous boy +had given to his sister instead of eating it himself. What pains Joe +had taken to make for Annie a beautiful boat as a parting present! +Annie had thought it then the prettiest boat in the world, and after +six years she thought so still. There was the boat now on its shelf, +always kept nicely dusted by Annie, and almost as good as new, +reminding her every day of Joe.</p> + +<p>Oh! Young brothers, if you only knew how much power you have by words +and deeds of kindness to make your little sisters happy, and win their +lifelong love, you would not so often give pain to them when you might +so easily give pleasure! Annie had never had from Joe one rough word, +far less one thoughtless blow. He would far rather have hurt himself +than have hurt his little sister. Annie looked up now at the boat, her +brother's keepsake, and could not and would not doubt his love. She +was quite able to trust him, and her greatest pain was to see that her +grandmother did not.</p> + +<p>Perhaps my reader is inclined to think that Janet was a cross, +ill-tempered old woman, proud of what she had done for others, and +expecting others to do a great deal for her in return. And yet Janet +was an honest and kind-hearted woman, one who loved her Bible, and +never passed a Sunday without going to church. Janet feared God, and +tried to obey His commandments, but she had not yet learned to trust +His love. Janet let the wicked thought lurk in her heart that if the +Lord really cared for her, He would not leave her to be so poor. And if +old Janet thus dared to doubt the love of her heavenly Father, who can +wonder if she doubted the love of earthly friends! This want of trust +made every trial that came to her doubly heavy to Janet; this made her +temper cross, and filled her with bitter thoughts.</p> + +<p>There are many who sin like Janet, without half the excuse which she +had for her discontented spirit. Janet had had very great trials to +bear. Once she had been well-off; she had lived with her good husband +in a pretty thatched cottage, and had been as happy and contented a +woman as any in the village. But in one year, poor Janet had lost both +her husband and her married daughter,—and with an almost broken heart +had received her two grandchildren into her home. Even that home was +not to be left to her long.</p> + +<p>One day as the widow was returning from a distant field in which she +had been helping to reap, she saw thick volumes of smoke rising from +the direction of her cottage above the trees which hid it from view. +With a feeling of fear she rushed forwards, and terrible was the sight +which was soon before her eyes. Her pretty cottage was in flames, the +thatch was burning fiercely, and though an engine had come from the +town, and firemen and neighbours were doing their best to put out the +fire, they could not succeed, and what was once a comfortable home was +soon but a heap of ashes. Janet Jones was then, not only a widow, but a +very poor widow, and hard work she had had to bring up the two orphan +children left to her charge. These were no small troubles, and others, +in Janet's place, might have been sorely tempted to murmur.</p> + +<p>"I wish that 'I' could give poor Granny some proof of love," thought +little Annie. "But I have nothing to give, not one penny! To-morrow is +New Year's day, and it will be such a sad day to her. Is there nothing +that I could do to please her?"</p> + +<p>Now when we think hard to discover some way of pleasing a friend, we +are pretty sure to find one.</p> + +<p>"I remember," said Annie to herself, "that there was a hymn which took +Granny's fancy in a book which Mrs. Brown lent us to read last summer. +Granny wished that I could write well enough to copy it out fair on the +flyleaf of her large Bible. I can write now much better than I could +then. I have no New Year's present to give, but I might copy out that +hymn; I am sure that Mrs. Brown would lend me the book again if I asked +her. But this is such a little, such a 'very' little thing to do for my +Granny. Ah! I would do much more if I earned wages like Joe!"</p> + +<p>Copying out a hymn was a very little thing, but it was a "proof of +love," and a proof that cost Annie some self-denial. She did not like +writing at all, and she knew that it would take her hours to copy out +six verses quite neatly, taking care not to make one blot. She resolved +however to do so, and ran out again into the snow, and went over to +Mrs. Brown's to ask her to lend her the book.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Brown had a large cheerful home, and four merry little children +full of play.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Annie, we're so glad you've come!" cried the eldest, clapping her +hands as Annie entered.</p> + +<p>"I hope you'll stop all day with us," said kind Mrs. Brown, who knew +that the girl had a very dull home.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Yes,—stop, stop!" cried Charlie Brown. "We're to have roast beef +and roley-poley, 'cause it's the last day in the year."</p> + +<p>"And grandfather's coming, and he tells us such famous stories,—we'll +have games, and all sorts of fun!" exclaimed little Bess.</p> + +<p>Annie longed to stop to share the food and the fun. She hesitated, but +only for a moment. She had real love for her Granny, and gave a proof +of it at once.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you so much," she said, "but I cannot leave poor Granny to +spend the last day of the year by herself."</p> + +<p>Annie soon returned to her cottage with the book containing the hymn. +She got down the little bottle of ink, and a pen, and began her copying +work, while old Janet sat gloomy and sad by the fire, never speaking a +word except to abuse ungrateful Joe.</p> + +<p>It was well that Annie had to give much attention to what she was +doing, so that she scarcely heard what her Granny was muttering to +herself. The verses are so beautiful that they took up Annie's thoughts +as she wrote. They are so suitable for the New Year that I will copy +them out for my readers, as Annie did for her Granny. I wish that each +would learn by heart the loving questions which the Saviour, in this +hymn, asks alike of the old and the young:</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<br> +"I gave My life for thee,<br> + My precious blood I shed,<br> + That thou mightest ransomed be,<br> + And quickened from the dead.<br> + I give My life for thee,<br> + WHAT HAST THOU GIVEN FOR ME?<br> + <br> +"I spent long years for thee,<br> + In weariness and woe,<br> + That one eternity<br> + Of joy thou mightest know.<br> + I spent long years for thee,<br> + Hast thou spent ONE for Me?<br> + <br> +"My Father's house of light,<br> + My rainbow-circled throne,<br> + I left for earthly night,<br> + For wand'rings sad and lone.<br> + I left it all for thee,<br> + Hast thou left AUGHT for Me?<br> + <br> +"I suffered much for thee,<br> + More than thy tongue can tell,<br> + Of bitterest agony,<br> + To rescue thee from Hell.<br> + I suffered much for thee,<br> + WHAT DOST THOU BEAR FOR ME?<br> + <br> +"And I have brought to thee,<br> + Down from My home above,<br> + Salvation full and free,<br> + My pardon, and My love.<br> + Great gifts I brought to thee,<br> + WHAT HAST THOU BROUGHT TO ME?<br> + <br> +"Oh! let thy life be given,<br> + Thy years for Me be spent<br> + World fetters all be riven,<br> + And joy with suffering blent,<br> + I gave MYSELF for thee,<br> + Give thou THYSELF to Me?"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<h3><a id="JOE_Ch_2">CHAPTER II.</a></h3> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>NEW YEAR'S morning dawned bright and clear; the pure snow gleamed like +diamonds in the rays of the glorious sun, but old Janet rose with a +heavy heart and a gloomy brow. She thought of the landlord calling for +the rent; she thought of her neighbours in their merry homes, and of +her grandson living in comfort in London; she thought of everyone being +happy but herself. If Janet thought also of God, I fear that it was +with little faith, little trust. She was so gloomy and sad that she did +not even smile at poor Annie when they first met, or wish her a happy +New Year.</p> + +<p>Annie watched her Granny as she went up to the table on which lay her +large Bible open at the place where the child, as neatly as she could, +had copied out the hymn. Annie saw her Granny take out her spectacles, +slowly wipe them, put them on, and then sit down to read, as she always +read while the water was boiling for breakfast.</p> + +<p>"I hope that Granny will be pleased," thought Annie. "I hope that she +will like the hymn now as she did in the summer, and know that I copied +it out as a little proof of my love. But dear me! What is the matter! +Granny is crying—crying over the hymn!"</p> + +<p>For as the old woman read the Saviour's questions to her own heart, +first her lip trembled, then her eyes dimmed with tears, and she had +to take off her spectacles and wipe them before she could read any +farther. At last, when she had reached the sixth verse, the poor old +woman murmured to herself, "ungrateful sinner that I am!" and fairly +burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Granny, I never meant to write out anything to vex you, I never +thought that hymn would make you cry!" exclaimed Annie, quite in +distress.</p> + +<p>"Is it not enough to make me cry to think that my Lord has done all +this for me, sinner that I am," sobbed old Janet, speaking not to +Annie, but to herself, "to think that He should have given Himself for +'me,' suffered for 'me,' died for 'me,' and that all the return which I +made is to doubt Him now! What proof of love could the dear Lord have +given more than He gave! He kept back nothing, not even His life! And +I—I have been finding fault with a poor lad for forgetting the little +kindness which I have shown, the little trouble which I have taken, +while all the while I was ungrateful to the Lord, who has done for me a +thousand—thousand times more than ever woman did for a child!"</p> + +<p>The words of the beautiful verses had indeed gone straight to the heart +of Janet, and awoke in it sorrow and repentance, but other feelings +besides. Janet felt love, grateful love to Him who had first loved her; +and with love came peace, and hope, and trust, for He who had done so +much for her soul would, as she now felt sure, never, never forsake her.</p> + +<p>Annie scarcely knew whether to be glad or sorry that she had written +out the hymn. But she had soon something else to take up her attention.</p> + +<p>"Why, Granny, here's the postman coming again," cried out the child in +surprise; for to have letters two days running was a thing which had +never happened before to old Janet.</p> + +<p>Annie ran to the door to take in the letter, and returned with a face +beaming with joy. "It's Joe's hand—he has written again," she cried, as +she gave the note to her Granny.</p> + +<p>Janet had her spectacles on, and she opened the letter herself, but +as she did so, a little paper dropped fluttering to the floor. Annie +picked it up, and almost screamed with delight as she saw "three +pounds" written on a post-office order.</p> + +<p>Janet clasped her wrinkled hands and softly exclaimed, "Thank God!" +then with a trembling voice read aloud the following letter.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "Dear Granny, I had not enough money yesterday to get you clear out of +trouble, and did not like to do more than let you know that I had got +your note, till I should find how much my watch would sell for. I am +pleased now to send £3; it is more than you will need for the rent, but +I want you to have a real good dinner on New Year's day,—and please, +with the rest of the money, buy a nice warm cloak for Annie, from me."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Annie kissed her brother's letter again and again; her heart was full +of love and joy.</p> + +<p>"I hope that it's not wrong," she said, smiling as she examined the +post-office order, "but I can't help wishing that I could give such a +'proof of love' as Joe has done."</p> + +<p>"Your little hymn has done as much—more for me than this money-order," +said old Janet, with a trembling hand taking the paper from the child. +"This order shows me that I did wrong to doubt the love of my boy, but +the hymn has shown me how faithless and sinful it was in me ever, for +one moment, to doubt the love of my Saviour!"</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77088 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/77088-h/images/image001.jpg b/77088-h/images/image001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..508b36a --- /dev/null +++ b/77088-h/images/image001.jpg diff --git a/77088-h/images/image002.jpg b/77088-h/images/image002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1e7ab87 --- /dev/null +++ b/77088-h/images/image002.jpg diff --git a/77088-h/images/image003.jpg b/77088-h/images/image003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..407a907 --- /dev/null +++ b/77088-h/images/image003.jpg diff --git a/77088-h/images/image004.jpg b/77088-h/images/image004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9167c96 --- /dev/null +++ b/77088-h/images/image004.jpg diff --git a/77088-h/images/image005.jpg b/77088-h/images/image005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ba2c3c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/77088-h/images/image005.jpg diff --git a/77088-h/images/image006.jpg b/77088-h/images/image006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7dc9c1c --- /dev/null +++ b/77088-h/images/image006.jpg diff --git a/77088-h/images/image007.jpg b/77088-h/images/image007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..523bd81 --- /dev/null +++ b/77088-h/images/image007.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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