Part 7 (2/2)
Dear, dear old Sport, you shall never leave me again!” I said, caressing him fondly.
At this he sprang to his feet, barking joyously, and gambolled and frolicked before us the rest of the way home, then lay down upon the doorstep, with an upward glance and a wag of his bushy tail, as though to say, ”See how I take you at your word!”
”He understands every word we say,” said Mae.
”Of course he does; he only lacks speech to make him perfect. I somehow hoped he might find it here.”
”He would not be half so interesting if he could talk,” said Mae.
”Possibly not. How silken and beautiful his long hair is!”
”He has his bath in the river every day, and it leaves its mark on him also. Do you know I think one of the sweetest proofs we have of the Father's loving care for us is, that we so often find in this life the things which gave us great happiness below. The more unexpected this is, the greater joy it brings. I remember once seeing a beautiful little girl enter heaven, the very first to come of a large and affectionate family. I afterward learned that the sorrowful cry of her mother was, 'Oh, if only we had someone there to meet her, to care for her!' She came, lovingly nestled in the Master's own arms, and a little later, as he sat, still caressing and talking to her, a remarkably fine Angora kitten, of which the child had been very fond, and which had sickened and died some weeks before, to her great sorrow, came running across the gra.s.s and sprang directly into her arms, where it lay contentedly. Such a glad cry as she recognized her little favorite, such a hugging and kissing as that kitten received, made joy even in heaven! Who but our loving Father would have thought of such comfort for a little child? She had evidently been a timid child; but now as the children gathered about her, with the delightful freedom they always manifest in the presence of the beloved Master, she, looking up confidingly into the tender eyes above her, began to shyly tell of the marvelous intelligence of her dumb pet, until at last Jesus left her contentedly playing among the flowers with the little companions who had gathered about her. Our Father never forgets us, but provides pleasures and comforts for us all, according to our individual needs.”
”When shall I behold the Savior? When shall I meet, face to face, him whom my soul so loveth?” my hungry heart began to cry out in its depths.
Mae, as though understanding the silent cry, placed both arms about my neck, looked tenderly into my eyes, and whispered:
”You, too, dearest, will see him soon. He never delays when the time is ripe for his coming. It will not be long; you, too, will see him soon.”
So we parted, each to the duties of the hour.
CHAPTER VIII.
Sae little noo I ken o' blessed, bonnie place, I only ken it's Hame, whaur we shall see His face It wad surely be eneuch forever mair to be In the glory o' His presence, in oor ain countrie.
Like a bairn to his mither, a wee birdie to its nest, I wad fain be gangin' noo unto my Savior's breast, For he gathers in his bosom witless, worthless lambs like me, And carries them himsel' to his ain countrie.
--[Mary Lee Demarest.
The following morning my brother said to me, after an interesting hour of instruction:
”Shall we go for the promised visit to Mrs. Wickham now?”
”Indeed, yes!” I answered eagerly; so we at once set forth.
We soon reached her lovely home and found her waiting at the entrance as though expecting us. After a cordial greeting to our friend, my brother said:
”I will leave you together for that 'long talk' for which I know you are both eager, and will go my way to other duties. I will find you, later on, at home.” The last remark to me.
”All right,” I answered. ”I am familiar with the way now, and need no attendance.”
After he had gone, my friend took me all over her lovely home, showing me, with great pleasure, the rooms prepared for each beloved member of her earthly household still to come. One very large room, into whose open windows at each end the blossom- and fruit-laden boughs of the immortal trees looked invitingly, was evidently her especial care; she whispered to me, ”Dougla.s.s always did like a large room. I am sure he will like this one.” And I was also sure.
Returning down the broad stairway, we found it entered into a very large music-room, with broad galleries supported by marble columns, running across three sides of it, on a level with the second floor. In this gallery was a number of musical instruments--harps, viols, and some unlike any instruments I had ever seen elsewhere. The room itself was filled with easy-chairs, couches and window-seats, where listeners could rest and hear the sweet harmonies from the galleries.
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