Part 22 (1/2)

Like to have you come every day, sir.”

”Your minister!”

”Yes, sir. Didn't you know you was my minister?” chuckled Tode. ”Bless me, _I_ know it, I tell _you_--known it this long time.”

And then ensued a lively conversation, question and answer following each other in quick succession; and Mr. Birge went through a great many phases of feeling in a brief s.p.a.ce of time. First came a great throb of joy. The boy is safe the mother's prayer is answered--good measure, pressed down, running over--not only a temperance boy to the very core, but a Christian; then a quick little thrill of pain--oh, his work was done, but his duty had been left undone; the Lord had gathered in this stray waif, but _he_ was not the servant. Then, first great astonishment, and afterward humble, _very_ humble thanksgiving. So then he was the servant after all; the Lord had called him in to help, and the work was begun on that stormy night, that night over which he had grumbled, and had doubting, questioning thoughts. Oh, there were a great many lessons to learn during that long conversation, and the minister smiled presently to himself over the memory of how he took it for granted that because the little yellow-haired boy had run away from his intended care nine years before, he had therefore run away from G.o.d; smiled to remember how carefully he was going to approach this rough, hardened boy. ”Oh well,” he said to himself, as he turned from the shade of the awning, compelled by the press of customers to defer further conversation, ”I shall learn after a time that although the Lord is gracious and forbearing, and kindly gives me the work to do here and there for him, he can when he chooses get along entirely without the help of John Birge.”

Nevertheless he did not yet make known the fact of his early acquaintance with Tode--not so much now that he wanted to keep it to help in melting the boy's heart, as that he had come to realize that Tode's mother was already his one tender memory, and that everything about that death-bed scene, if remembered at all, must be fraught with pain; so he still kept the story until some quiet time when they should be in a pleasant room alone. But this meeting was a great thing for Tode. From that day forth Mr. Birge realized fully that he was the boy's minister. He began at once to work carefully for him. Thursday evening Tode learned to close business at an early hour, and betake himself to the Young People's Meeting. He was toled into the Sabbath-school--more than that, he coaxed Winny in, a feat which her mother had never succeeded in performing.

It was some time in September that a new duty and a new privilege dawned upon him, that of publicly uniting himself with the people of G.o.d. Tode never forgot the solemn joy which thrilled his soul at that time, when it was made known to him that this privilege was actually his. There came a wondrously beautiful October Sat.u.r.day, and Tode stood by the window in Mr. Birge's study. It was just at the close of a long conversation. On the morrow the boy was to stand up in the church and take the solemn vows upon him, and his face was grave yet glad.

”By the way,” said Mr. Birge, ”yours is a very singular name. Fortunate that it is, or I never would have found you again; but it must be a contraction of something.”

”Why yes,” answered Tode, hesitatingly. He didn't know what contraction meant. ”My name was once, when I was a _very_ little youngster, _Theodore_; but I never knew myself in that way.”

”Theodore! A grand name--it belonged to a brother of mine once before he was called to receive 'the new name.' I like it; and Theodore the name goes down on my record. How do you spell the other? Are you sure that's all right?”

”M-a--” began our friend, then stopped to laugh. ”Why no--I'll be bound that ain't my name, either. It's Mallery, that's what it is; no Mall about it.”

Mr. Birge turned and surveyed his caller leisurely, with a quiet smile on his face.

”It seems to me, Master Theodore Mallery, that you are sailing under false colors,” he said at last. ”What have you to do with Tode Mall?”

Tode laughed.

”Well they nicknamed me so, and I suppose it stuck, and it seems like me; but my name truly is Theodore S. Mallery.”

”Then of course I shall write it so.” And after he had written it Mr.

Birge came over and took the boy's hand.

”It is a pleasant idea,” he said. ”Let us take the new name, a picture of the new life which begins to-morrow, when you say before the world, as for me I will serve the Lord. Be very careful of the new name, dear brother; don't stain it with any shadow of evil.”

Tode walked home slowly and thoughtfully in the gathering twilight, strange new thoughts stirring in his heart. He felt older and graver and wiser. He went round by his business stand; he took his knife from his pocket and carefully pried out the tacks which held his pasteboard sign; then he held it up in the waning light, and looked earnestly at the letters, his face working with new thoughts. But the only outward expression which he gave to these thoughts was to say as he rolled up the pasteboard:

”I must have a new sign. Good-by, Tode Mall, I'm done with you forever.

After this I'm Theodore S. Mallery.”

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XVI.

PLEDGES AND PARTNERs.h.i.+PS.

There was a little bit of a white house, cunning and cozy, nestled in among the larger ones, on a quiet, pleasant street of the city. It was a warm June day, and the side door was open, which gave one a peep into a dainty little dining-room. There was a bright carpet on the floor, a green-covered table between the windows, with books and papers scattered about on it in the way which betokens use and familiarity instead of show. The round table was set for three, and ever and anon a dear little old woman bustled in from the bit of a kitchen and added another touch to the arrangements for dinner. A young miss of perhaps sixteen was curled in a corner of the lounge, working rapidly and a little nervously with slate, and pencil, and brain. The side gate clicked, and a young man came with quick decided tread up the flower-bordered walk. The student raised her eyes and found her voice:

”Oh, Theodore! for pity's sake see what is the matter with this example?

I've worked it over so many times that the figures all dance together, and don't seem to mean anything.”