Part 18 (2/2)

”Yes, dear,--a Bible verse. Don't you know one?”

”No.”

”But you've seen a Bible, surely.”

Effie shook her head. ”I don't know what you mean,” she said.

”Why, you poor lamb,” cried Nurse Johnstone, ”I do believe you haven't!

Well, and in a Christian country, too! If that ain't too bad. I'll tell you a verse this minute, you poor little thing, and to-morrow we'll see if you can't learn it.” Then, very slowly and reverently, she repeated, ”Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven.” Twice she repeated the text, Effie listening attentively to the strange, beautiful words; then she kissed her for good-night, and moved away. Effie lay awake awhile saying the verse over to herself. She had a good memory, and when she waked next morning she found that she was able to say it quite perfectly.

That happened to be a Thursday, and Thursday was always a special day in Great Ormond Street, because it was that on which the Princess of Wales made her weekly visit to the hospital. Effie had never heard of a princess, and had no idea what all the happy bustle meant, as nurses and patients made ready for the coming guest. Nothing could be cleaner than the ward in its every-day condition, but all little possible touches were given to make it look its very best. Fresh flowers were put into the jars, the little ones able to sit up, were made very neat, each white bed was duly smoothed, and every face had a look as though something pleasant was going to happen. Children easily catch the contagion of cheerfulness, and Effie was insensibly cheered by seeing other people so. She lay on her pillow, observing everything, and faintly smiling, when the door opened, and in came a slender, beautiful lady, wrapped in soft silks and laces, with two or three children beside her. All the nurses began to courtesy, and the children to dimple and twinkle at the sight of her. She walked straight to the middle of the ward, then, lifting something up that all might see it, she said in a clear sweet voice: ”Isn't there some one of these little girls who can say a pretty Bible verse for me? If there is, she shall have this.”

What do you think ”this” was? No other than a doll! A large, beautiful creature of wax, with curly brown hair, blue eyes which could open and shut, the reddest lips and pinkest cheeks ever seen, and a place, somewhere about her middle, which, when pinched, made her utter a squeaky sound like ”Mama.” This delightful doll had on a pretty blue dress with a scarlet sash, and a pair of brown kid boots with real b.u.t.tons. She wore a little blue hat on top of her curly head, and sported an actual pocket-handkerchief, three inches square, or so, on which was written her name, ”Dolly Varden.” All the little ones stared at her with dazzled eyes, but for a moment no one spoke. I suppose they really were too surprised to speak, till suddenly a little hand went up, and a small voice was heard from the far corner. The voice came from Effie, too, and it was Effie herself who spoke.

”I can say a verse,” said the small voice.

”Can you? That is nice. Say it, then,” said the princess, turning toward her.

Then the small, piping voice repeated, very slowly and distinctly, this text: ”Suffer the little children to come unto--_Nurse Johnstone_--and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven!”

What a laugh rang through the ward then! The nurses laughed, the little ones laughed too, though they did not distinctly understand at what.

Nurse Johnstone cried as well as laughed, and the princess was almost as bad, for her eyes were dewy, though a smile was on her sweet lips as she stepped forward and laid the doll in Effie's hands. Nurse Johnstone eagerly explained: ”I said 'Come unto Me,' and she thought it meant _me_, poor little lamb, and it's a shame there should be such ignorance in a Christian land!” All this time Effie was hugging her dolly in a silent rapture. Her wish was granted, and wasn't it strange that it should have been granted just _so_?

[Ill.u.s.tration: She stepped forward and laid the doll in Effie's hands.--PAGE 282.]

Do you want to know more about little Effie? There isn't much more to tell. All the kindness and care which she received in Great Ormond Street could not make her well again. She had no const.i.tution, the doctors said, and no strength. She lived a good many weeks, however, and they were the happiest weeks of her life, I think. Dolly Varden was always beside her, and Dolly was clasped tight in her arms when she finally fell asleep to waken up no more. Nurse Johnstone, who had learned to love the little girl dearly, wanted to lay the doll in the small coffin; but the other nurses said it would be a pity to do so.

There are so few dolls and so many children in the world, you know; so in the end Dolly Varden was given to another little sick girl, who took as much pleasure in her as Effie had done.

So Effie's wish was granted, though only for a little while. It is very often so with wishes which we make in this world. But I am very sure that Effie doesn't miss the dolly or anything else in the happy world to which she has gone, and that the wishes granted there are granted fully and forever, and more freely and abundantly than we who stay behind can even guess.

THE END.

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