Part 4 (2/2)

”Certainly I will forgive you, Charlie, and G.o.d will too. Try not to do it any more,” answered his mother, as she was wondering if she had not spoken too harshly to her boy.

Some schoolmates came in then and they all went down to the swing under the apple tree, where they had a good time together.

After they all had a turn swinging, they played ”catcher” around the house, and ”hide and seek,” and other games as all children know. At about five o'clock the little visitors all went home.

Some men pa.s.sed along the road talking very loud and swearing. One of them had been drinking. Charlie and Bessie were looking at their mother as she was doing some evening's work when, in a very thoughtful mood, Charlie said: ”Mamma, don't you wish you'd 'a' never had any children?”

”No, Charlie. Why?” said she.

”Well, so many people are so bad,--swearing and getting drunk. Suppose I should turn out that way. Really, I wish I'd die while I'm little.”

”So do I,” said Bessie.

”Why children, children, you must not talk that way. What would your papa and I do?” said their mother, almost choking on her words, for Charlie had said that a number of times before. ”Who made you?” she asked.

”G.o.d” they answered.

”Well then,” continued their mamma, ”you ought to want to live as long as you can, so you could serve Him more. He wants us to do all the good we can.”

Both children went into the sitting room, and Charlie got his little account book and figured up how much money he had on interest, and how much the interest was, and counted how much he had in his bank, and then added it all up together. ”Bessie” he said, ”when I get big I'm going to go to college and pay my own way. See if I don't.” Then they played together till they got into a little difficulty, and both ran out to ”tell mamma” all about it.

That night Bessie did not go to sleep as soon as usual. 'Twas the same the night before. She seemed troubled. Her mamma thought she was sick. Presently Charlie suggested, ”Mamma, I'll bet I know what's the matter with Bessie.”

”Well, why don't you tell me, Charlie? I do want to know,” said their mamma.

”Bessie wants to join the church,” he replied, and his little sister began crying in earnest, and soon cried herself to sleep.

CHAPTER VII.

CHARLIE'S LAST DAYS.

”They who seek the throne of grace Find that throne in every place; If we live a life of prayer, G.o.d is present everywhere.”

That much dreaded disease, scarlet fever, was the unwelcome visitor to many homes. Bessie was taken by it. While she was ill, Charlie was kept from school, lest other children should take it of him. Often he would steal over to the school house during school hours, and peep in at the window, un.o.bserved, to learn who stood first in his cla.s.ses. He often watched the spelling cla.s.s as they stood up in recitation, could tell each pupils' standing, but he himself dared not enter. Those were long, long weeks for Charlie, that Bessie's illness continued.

She grew very, very sick. Sometimes it seemed her little life was suspended on a silken thread,--a touch might cause it to snap, and she would be gone forever.

Children converted are children still. Charlie was a boy, although a Christian. Often he came softly into the house, and when he would meet his mamma out of the sick room, he would say, ”Don't you wish you had left Bessie be baptized when she wanted to? Suppose she should die.”

And his poor mother, almost broken down with care for her little girl, was made sick at heart by questions like that.

On the doctor's daily visit Charlie met him at the gate, and would tie his horse for him, and then come with him into the house.

Bessie had lain ill already four weeks. On Tuesday morning the doctor tied his horse himself and came in alone. Charlie was sick. The doctor said to him, ”Well, Charlie, you've got it now. Does it scare you?”

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