Jewels Precious Jewels
Thomas Blackburn Baines
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: The Children on the Sands
“MY Lord has said, ' Feed my lambs,' and though I am weary and faint, I must needs go on. Perhaps He has a special message for those two dear children on in front.”
Thus spoke an aged servant of God, who had walked many miles that day to hold a service for children on Eastdown Sands.
Rising with difficulty from the rock on which he had been resting, he plodded slowly on through the soft, shifting sand, till within a few yards of the children he was obliged to rest again.
A word or two of their conversation reached his ears, and made his eyes fill with tears, as he bowed his head and murmured, "O Lord, I thank Thee that Thou, who dost say ‘Before they call I will answer,' hast sent me here in answer to these children's prayer.”
“Miss Hetty, I wish you would talk to me sometimes about Jesus and heaven" were the words which first attracted the gentleman's attention, "I do not think I shall be here much longer, and I am so frightened at the thought of dying.”
“Oh! you must cheer up, Fanny. The sea is doing you a great deal of good, I am sure.”
“I do not see that it is, miss. My cough is worse at nights now than it used to be. Last night as I lay awake, I said to myself, I will ask Miss Hetty to teach me all she knows, maybe then I should not feel so afraid of dying.”
“I do not know much about it," said Hetty, with a sigh. "One does not think of these things when you are well. But you know that text Fanny, ‘Ask and it shall be given you.' Shall we ask God if you must die, to make you fit?”
“Oh, do please," said Fanny eagerly. "Well, let us shut our eyes, and ask just that.”
As the children sat with closed eyes, the gentleman drew near, his heart swelled with pity as he looked at the younger girl; yes, there was no doubt about it, she was not long for this world, With a short prayer to God to bless His word, he began to repeat John 3:16, "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." At the first words the children sprang to their feet.
“Oh! sir," exclaimed Fanny, "has God sent you.”
“Yes, my child, "said he, sitting down and motioning the children to retake their seats." That text I just now repeated tells you all you want to know. Find it in your Bible when you get home, learn it, believe it, and you need not fear dying.”
“I cannot help it, sir," sobbed Fanny.
“What do you fear, my child?”
“Oh! sir, I am afraid I am too bad to go to heaven.”
“Too bad, child! Why do not you know the dear Lord Jesus came down from heaven to die for sinners, and that He will wash away all your sins in His own blood if you will come to Him and confess them and believe in Him? The good Shepherd will carry you safely through the valley of the shadow of death if you are one of His little lambs. Do you think you are, my child?”
“I do not know, sir.”
“Well, shall I tell you how you may find out? If you are in the fold you are one of them, for Jesus says, I am the door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture.' You see Jesus is not only the Shepherd, He is the door of the fold as well, and you cannot get in amongst His sheep and lambs unless you go through the door. The door is Jesus, so if you come to Jesus, you will enter into the fold and be one of His own little lambs.”
It was an eager little face that Fanny lifted to her new friend, as she asked anxiously, “But how can I come, sir? Jesus Christ is in heaven now.”
“‘He that cometh to me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.' Coming means believing, and believing is coming. Cannot you quite understand? well! I will make it plainer.
“If you had seen the Lord Jesus standing where I stood just now, would you not have gone to Him and told Him all your fears? Yes, I am sure you would. Do you remember how the little children went to Him, when He said, `Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not'? Well, He is present with us now, for He has said, ‘Lo, I am with you alway.' Believe this, and come to Him in spirit, tell Him all your doubts and fears, and think of Him bending down from heaven, listening to your every word.
“Oh! dear children, will you not enter in at the door, and pass into the green pastures where the lambs of the good Shepherd are safe from all harm?
“Let us kneel down and tell the dear Savior that you want to come to Him.”
Very earnestly did the good man pray that these little ones might be led to trust in Jesus, that they might hear His voice and follow Him, and that He would give them eternal life.
Then a few more words, and he turned to go, after giving each of them a little leaflet. The two girls watched him some minutes in silence; then as he passed round the point and was lost to sight, Hetty exclaimed—
“I wonder if we shall ever see him again." "I shall not," said Fanny thoughtfully; "at least not down here," then, after a pause, "but I think I shall up there." And she looked up at the bright clouds lighted up by the setting sun, and a smile crossed her little wan face as she thought, "Is heaven more beautiful than that? How glad I am that kind gentleman told me how to get there.”
“Shall I read you this hymn?" asked Hetty, who had been looking at her leaflet. "It is so pretty.”
I was wandering and weary,
When my Savior came unto me;
For the ways of sin grew dreary,
And the world had ceased to woo me:
And I thought I heard Him say,
As He came along the way-
“Oh! foolish souls, come near Me I
My sheep should never fear Me,
I am the Shepherd true.”
At first I would not hearken,
But put off till to-morrow;
But life began to darken,
And I was sick with sorrow:
And I thought I heard Him say,
As He came along the way-
“Oh 1 helpless ones, come near Me
My sheep should never fear Me,
I am the Shepherd true.”
At last I stopped to listen,
His voice could ne'er deceive me,
I saw His kind eyes glisten,
So anxious to relieve me:
And I thought I heard Him say,
As He came along the way—
“Oh! feeble ones, come near Me!
My sheep should never fear Me,
I am the Shepherd true.”
He took me on His shoulder,
And tenderly He kissed me:
He bade my love grow bolder,
And said how He had missed me
And I'm sure I heard Him say,
As He went along His way—
“Oh! little ones, come near Me!
My sheep should never fear Me,
I am the Shepherd true.”
“Is not that nice? Now I will read yours.”
When He cometh, when He cometh,
To make up His jewels,
All His jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and His own;
Like the stars of the morning,
His bright crown adorning,
They shall shine in their beauty,
Bright gems for His crown.
He will gather, He will gather,
The gems for His kingdom;
All the pure ones, all the bright ones,
His loved and His own;
Like the stars of the morning,
His bright crown adorning,
They shall shine in their beauty,
Bright gems for His crown.
Little children, little children,
Who love their Redeemer,
Are the jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and His own;
Like the stars of the morning,
His bright crown adorning,
They shall shine in their beauty,
Bright gems for His crown.
“Oh, is it not beautiful, miss? To think that I shall be a jewel soon! It seems too good to be true.”
It was with something of awe that Hetty looked at her little friend, such a change seemed to have passed over her.
“Yes," she thought. "I am sure she has passed through the door. It is because she is one of the good Shepherd's lambs that she looks like that. I wonder if I am; I should like to be.”
“Fanny," she exclaimed aloud, "What am I thinking of, I do not know what mamma will say to my keeping you out so late. Come, let us go home; it is getting quite damp.”
Hetty was right in thinking that her mother would not approve of their staying so long on the shore. Mrs. Lynden was anxiously expecting them, and looked reprovingly at her little daughter as the children entered the room.
“It is not my fault, mamma," said Hetty, "at least, not all my fault. A gentleman talked to us on the sands, and gave us some leaflets, and we stopped to read them.”
“Come here, Fanny, and tell me all about it," said Mrs. Lynden kindly, motioning to the little girl to sit beside her on the sofa.
It was with a heightened color that Fanny obeyed; she never felt at home in the handsomely furnished rooms, and though appreciating her kind friend's efforts to benefit her health, she often wished herself back in her mother's little room.
Mrs. Lynden had tried in vain to gain the child's confidence, but she never seemed at her ease except she was alone with Hetty. It was now about two months since she first came, and to Mrs. Lynden's anxious eye she looked no better than when she first arrived. So she had at last resolved to write to Fanny's mother, and appoint a day for her return.
“Would you like to go home soon, Fanny?" she asked presently, after they had talked a little about the afternoon's event.
“Yes, if you please, ma'am. I should like to have a little time with mother; she will not have me long.”
Fanny's eyes filled with tears as she spoke; she was not thinking of herself, but of her mother; who would comfort her when she was gone?
Mrs. Lynden guessed her thoughts.
“Fanny, my child, do not grieve about your mother, I shall take care of her; she shall never want a friend as long as I live. She shall come and live at Comb Cottage, when her little girl has left her.”
It was with a grateful heart that Fanny went to sleep that night. How good God had been to her, He had taken away her fear of death; and He had put it into the heart of good, kind Mrs. Lynden to promise to take care of her mother.
Chapter 2: The Ragged Lad
“DEAR father! How I wish I was more like him! Never happy unless he is gathering some jewels for the Master. Let me see, what does he say the child's name is? Oh, Fanny Woods. Yes, I remember her at school, an interesting child; I must look her up.”
So saying, Wilfred Austen turned again to his books, from which he had been disturbed by the arrival of his father's letter. For only a short time, however: soon came another hindrance, a heavy thud at the door. It was with a sigh the young man rose to answer it; he did not often get an evening for study, but when he did manage it, he was somehow or other sure to be interrupted. A pitiable object met his gaze on opening the door-a shivering, ragged lad of some 17 or 18 years stood before him.
It was a cold night for the time of year, being only early in October, and a heavy rain had been falling all the evening. The poor young fellow was drenched through and through, and so utterly wretched that though he only asked for a copper or two for a night's lodging, Mr. Austen, bidding him follow him in, drew up a chair for him by his own fire, and cutting him some bread and cheese, told him to eat it as he dried his clothes.
Once again Wilfred took up his book, but he could not fix his thoughts; his mind would wander to the stranger.
It was a long walk to the village, and he did not like the idea of turning him out on such an inclement night. He would not like himself to take at that late hour a walk of a mile or more in the drenching rain. He looked at his visitor, the poor young fellow had finished his supper; the fire was evidently making him drowsy, for after one or two ineffectual efforts to keep awake, his head sank on his chest, and his heavy breathing told Wilfred that he was asleep.
“Poor chap!" he thought, "he must stay. Let me see, where can I put him? On the couch, I suppose. It will be of no good to me after, of course, but I can do without it “Come!" he said aloud, "it's a bad night for turning out. I will give you a blanket to roll yourself in on that couch.”
The young fellow seemed quite dumbfounded at this unexpected proposal. Here was bed, supper and fire all for nothing; and in a preacher's room, too! All he managed to get out was, "I am sure you are very kind.”
The poor fellow's outward condition had taken all Wilfred's thoughts up to this moment; but as he watched him kick off his boots and prepare to lie down prayer-less, and for all he knew utterly ignorant of the first principles of the gospel, his heart smote him for his unfaithfulness.
“I will not put off till to-morrow what is best done to-night, a few words at parting would not make half the impression that a talk now might." Waiting only to send up the short prayer, "Lord, help me to win another jewel for Thy crown," Wilfred crossed the room, and, laying his hand on the young man's shoulder, asked—
“Have you no prayer to offer up before lying down?”
“Nobody ever taught me one, sir.”
“Well, I will teach you one presently, but I want to talk with you a bit first. Do you know, my friend, that God loves you?”
“Why, sir, I am a right bad one. God Almighty does not love such as me.”
“Who do you think put it into my heart to take you in? It was God. Who led you to my door? It was God, because He loved you; He sent you to me that I might teach you about Him.
“Did He, though?”
“Yes, indeed. I will read you a story out of the Bible which shows how God loves poor sinners.”
Reaching his Bible, Mr. Austen read the parable of the Prodigal Son. (Luke 15) "God has put that story into the Bible on purpose to show the very worst that they are not too bad to be loved by Him That father welcoming his son is a picture of how God feels to you. You are a great way off from God, but He loves you still, and just as that father ran to meet his son as soon as he saw him coming to him, so God is waiting to be gracious to you.
“You have heard of Jesus?" The young man nodded.
“Do you know that He died for you?”
“I have heard tell somewhat about it.”
“What do you think made Him willing to come down from heaven and be nailed to the cross and suffer and die for us? It was because He loved us so much that He was willing to bear all the punishment our sins deserved, so that God might forgive us and take us to heaven when we die. Do not you think you should love Him who so loved you? ‘God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' Now let us kneel down and pray. You can say the words after me.”
The two young men knelt side by side, while Wilfred prayed earnestly for God's blessing on the stranger.
“Can you read?" asked Wilfred, as they rose from their knees.
“Yes.”
“Oh, I am glad of that. I will give you a Testament before you go in the morning. Let me see, you have not told me your name yet, have you? Joe Barker is it? Well, good night, Joe. I hope you will sleep well.”
But Joe did not feel at all inclined to sleep now. How wonderful all this was that he had just heard. It was so new to him.
“God loves me! Jesus died for me! I have to ask Him to wash away my sins and He will do so, and will take me, Joe Barker, to heaven some day.”
Thus mused Joe, as he lay curled up in his blanket, watching his new friend, who, quite unconscious of his gaze, drew up his chair to the fire, and taking out his father's letter began to read it again. He skimmed through the first part. "Ah, here it is.
I want to see what father says about this child. "And he commenced reading...." I was very interested in one little girl I talked to on the shore; she, with a companion, were the last I spoke to. She was evidently in rapid consumption. She listened to the word with great eagerness and I think it took root in her heart.
Yesterday I met her friend (a nice child too), and asking after her, was told that she had returned home to Farnley. I was pleased to hear that she belonged to Farnley, as I do not want to lose sight of her; no doubt you will be able to find her, her name is Fanny Woods. I know, my dear boy, that you will not mind any trouble you spend in helping to polish one of the dear Lord's jewels.”
Wilfred laid down the letter and sat looking into the fire. His thoughts traveled back many years, he saw himself a boy of twelve and thought he could hear his father's voice reading, "And they shall be mine saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels." He could remember the exact words his father said, "Is Jesus to pick up a little jewel to-night, Willie? You are His, because He bought you. Oh! what a price He paid for you. Has He not a right to you? Every bit of you should be His, every minute of your time should be His, everything that you have should be His. Will you not tell Him you want to be His jewel?" Yes, that was the turning-point of his life, and now. God was using him to win other jewels. Falling on his knees Wilfred Austen pleaded earnestly that the precious soul that God had sent to him this night might be won for his Master's crown.
“O Lord! bless the words I have spoken to the lad, open his eyes that he may see himself a lost sinner. Wash him in Thy precious blood, take all his sins away and help him to trust in Thee. Make him one of Thy jewels, O Lord!
May he sparkle and shine for Thee down here, and may he win other precious gems for Thy crown, O Lord of hosts!”
Joe could hardly believe his ears; well that beats all, the gentleman was praying for him, and calling him a jewel. Tears came into his eyes, and the prayer found an echo in his heart, "Make me one of Thy jewels, O Lord!”
Chapter 3: Wilfred Taken Home
“OH! Mother, I do wish Mr. Austen would come," said Fanny Woods one afternoon soon after her return home. "I know he would if he only knew I was back; could not you send to him?”
Why! there he is coming down the street, child," said her mother. "I do declare, he is crossing over; some one must have told him that you are back.”
“Good afternoon, sir. Our Fanny is home again, and is so worrying to see you.”
“What a fair little jewel she is," thought Wilfred, as he took his seat by the sick child's couch. "Not much polishing necessary here, I think," then aloud, "Well, little one, are you sorry to leave the sea.”
“I am a little, sir, but I am so glad to be home again.”
“Do you know, Fanny, I had a letter last night from one of your Eastdown friends, and it contained a request that I should call and see you.”
“From Mrs. Lynden?”
“No.”
“I did not know any one else except Miss Hetty and—Oh! was it from the kind old gentleman?”
Wilfred laughed. "Yes, your kind old gentleman is my father. Do you know, Fanny, he calls you one of the Lord's jewels. Is that so, little one?”
“Yes, sir, I think I am one.”
“Tell me why you think so, Fanny.”
The child hesitated, then drawing out of her pocket a small piece of folded paper, she opened it, and smoothing it out pointed to one of the verses on it.
“Little children, little children,
Who love their Redeemer,
Are the jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and His own,”
I do love Him, sir. That is why I think I am one.”
“Why do you love Him, Fanny?”
“Because He has done so much for me, sir. He is the door, and He has let me into the fold, and He is the good Shepherd too, and He will take care of me through the valley of the shadow of death.”
“Happy little one, "said Wilfred. The tone was sad and the child looked up questioningly," Are not you happy too, sir?”
“Yes, my child, but I was almost envying you. How sweet to be lying, polished and ready for the Master's crown, only a few more weeks before He comes to fetch you.”
“Perhaps, sir, He wants you to get some more jewels for Him before He fetches you.”
“Perhaps so, "said Wilfred musingly, little dreaming that he had won his last jewel the previous evening.
“Oh, sir, how good you are!" exclaimed Fanny the next afternoon as Wilfred placed before her a beautiful bunch of grapes. "They are beauties.”
As Wilfred stood watching the little one's enjoyment of his gift, his Lord's words came into his mind, "Inasmuch as ye do it to one of the least of these my brethren ye do it unto me." And some lines of a favorite hymn rose to his lips—
“Whene'er thou see'st them fainting in the way,
Athirst or weary, then remember Me;
Think, then, thou Nearest Me, the Master, say -
Give Me to drink, this boon I crave of thee.
Then I'll give thee to drink, oh, such a draft
Of life and love from my unbounded store,
As no poor thirsting sinner ever quaffed,
When thou shalt drink with Me and thirst no more.'”
“Thirst no more, Fanny. We often thirst down here, do we not? But we shall do so no more when we get home to heaven above.”
Busy as Wilfred was, he found time most afternoons to visit the sick child. Fanny looked forward all day to the few minutes' talk with him, preceded, as it always was, by reading and prayer.
“Mr. Austen," she said one day, as he rose to go, "do you think you would catch the fever if you went to see some one who has it?”
“Have you heard of fever about, Fanny?”
“Yes, sir; John Bant has it. Do you remember him? He was turned away from the Sunday school because he was so bad. I have been wondering if he is fit to die, and wishing you would go and talk to him, but I am afraid you might take the fever.”
“Oh! you need not be afraid of that, Fanny. I will go round at once. Thank you for mentioning it.”
Fanny looked after him with a sigh. "O God, take care of him," she murmured. Then her eyes filled with tears as she thought, if he took the fever and died, it would be because she had told him of the boy. "But God can take care of him, and if it is His will that he should die, it will be happier up there, and he seemed himself to wish he was as near going as I am.”
Little did Fanny think that he was nearer the dark river than she was.
“Nearer leaving the cross,
Nearer gaining the crown.”
But so it was. Wilfred knelt and prayed by the unconscious boy's side, in the hope that he might hear more than he appeared to do. Then, after comforting the poor mother, he returned home.
“Fanny," said her mother, a day or two afterward. "I have bad news for you. That worthless boy is recovering, and our dear Mr. Wilfred is down with the fever. I wish you had never told him about that young scamp. His father has been telegraphed for I hear, and they say the doctor has given him up.”
Fanny's eyes filled with tears. "I wish I could do something for him, mother; he was so good to me.”
“Child, there's nothing can be done for him. I should not wonder if we heard tomorrow he was gone.”
Yes, this was Wilfred's last night on earth, and his father knew it. Sitting with bowed head beside the death-bed of his only remaining child, the old man prayed that he might say, "Thy will be done.”
Ever and anon he raised his head to see if his boy still slept.
“Lord, take him not away without a last good-bye," he murmured. His prayer was heard. Wilfred opened his eyes, and, laying his hand on his father's bowed head, said, "Dear father, God will comfort you." Then, after a minute, "Can you sing me 'Jewels' like you did for Charlie when he died?”
With a quivering voice the old man began, but the words of their favorite hymn seemed to lift him out of his sorrow, and even comfort him—
When He cometh, when He cometh,
To make up His jewels,
All His jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and His own;
Like the stars of the morning,
His bright crown adorning,
They shall shine in their beauty,
Bright gems for His crown.
Wilfred lay with a smile on his face and his eyes fixed on the sky where the morning star shone down upon him through the uncurtained window.
“I shall be with Him soon," he said, as his father's voice ceased. "Cannot you rejoice with me, dear dad, or is it all darkness for you?”
“I do rejoice for you, dear boy, but it is not all rejoicing, Willie.”
“I cannot see the star now that I was looking at," said Wilfred presently. His father looked up, yes, there it was shining brightly into the silent room.
Ah! he knew what that meant, his boy was fast failing.
A few minutes more and all was over; and the desolate father stood looking up at the bright morning star, which such a short time since his boy had watched, and whose pale beams fell now on the closed eyes and white face of his last earthly treasure.
Chapter 4: Mrs. Woods at the Cottage
“OH! mamma, does it not all look nice? What a dear little room it is. I am sure Mrs. Woods will be happy here, at least soon, of course she cannot be very happy just yet, can she mamma?”
“No, poor woman," returned Mrs. Lynden.
“We must do all we can to comfort her."
“I am going to have tea with her, am I not, mamma? Shall I pour out tea?”
“Yes dear, I shall leave her to you. You must try and make her feel at home. I think everything is ready now, so I will not wait. Give my love to her, and tell her I will call in and see her tomorrow.”
Left alone, Hetty began to feel shy of meeting her visitor. What should she say to her when she arrived!
“I wish mamma had stayed," she thought.
But all her shyness vanished when she heard the sound of wheels coming down the road.
“Ah! how ill and sad the poor thing looks!" she thought as she ran to meet her.
“Oh! Miss Hetty! how kind of your dear mamma to make everything so nice for me," said Mrs. Woods, as she looked round the comfortable little room. "And, Miss Hetty, I can never thank you enough for all your goodness to my Fanny.”
“I am so very sorry for you," said Hetty gently.
“Yes miss, I know you are," answered the poor woman wiping her eyes. "God is good to me to give me such kind friends.”
“Oh! Mrs. Woods," said Hetty, as they sat at tea, "did Fanny tell you of the old gentleman who talked to us one afternoon? Well, I met him after she left and he said his son lived at Farnley, and he was going to tell him to go and see Fanny.”
“Yes, poor young gentleman! he came to see her several times, but he went off some time before she did, he caught the fever and died very suddenly. My Fanny did grieve about him, because, you see, it was she who asked him to go to the house where the fever was. Mr. Austen, his father, is still at Farnley. They say he is very cut up about him.”
Tea being over Hetty took Mrs. Woods over the little house and round the small garden.
“Do you think you will like living here?" she asked at last, as they came back to the snug little parlor.
“It is just beautiful, miss. But even here, I shall feel lonely without my Fanny. Will you come and see me as often as you can, miss? It cheers me to hear you talk.”
Oh! I will come every day, but I must be going now. Mamma said I must not stay late.”
“Wait a minute, miss." I have something for you, and Mrs. Woods drew from her pocket a little parcel.
“Fanny did that up for you a day or two before she died. There is a letter in it.”
Hetty waited till she was in her own room before she opened her parcel. It contained a little brown Testament, a letter and the hymn, "Jewels.”
A letter from the dead! It was rather a solemn thing to receive. Hetty's fingers trembled as she opened it, and her eyes filled with tears, as she read the few penciled lines-Dear Miss Hetty, I am writing to say good-bye. Jesus is very soon now going to take me to be with Himself! I am very happy, but too tired to write more. Tell Mr. Austen I am so sorry for him, and thank him for talking to me that day. Good-bye, Your friend, FANNY.”
“If God had taken me instead of her," thought Hetty, as she placed the little note in the Testament. "I wonder if I should have been ready!" and lifting up her heart to the Savior who never turns a deaf ear to any little one, she prayed “Oh! Jesus! I want to be Thy little lamb. Take me into Thy fold, and when I die make me a jewel in Thy crown. Amen.”
Hetty did not forget her promise to Mrs. Woods; day after day she ran in for a chat, sometimes carrying a little present from her mother, and often staying the whole evening to read a favorite book to her.
“I wish I could see Mr. Austen," she said on one of these visits. "I want to give him Fanny's message.”
“He might be back by this time," said Mrs. Woods.
“Well, I will go down on the shore. I shall be sure to meet him if he is over.”
She had not been long on the beach before her wish was fulfilled. There was Mr. Austen coming towards her.
He met her with his usual kind smile.
“Well, my child, it is a long time since I last saw you. How is your little friend? Gone, has she? Well, do not grieve, child. God's gems shine brighter up there.”
“Fanny wrote to me just before she died, and said I was to thank you for talking on the shore that day, and to say how sorry she was for you; and so am I," ended Hetty, with real feeling.
“Thank you, thank you," said the old man in a husky voice. "I have no one now to love me; do you think you could a little?”
“Oh, Mr. Austen, a great deal, "exclaimed Hetty.
“I am glad of that, child. You must come over and see me. Should you like to? Well! then ask your mother if you may spend the day with me to-morrow. There is a train about eleven. I will call for you.”
Hetty thoroughly enjoyed her visit the next day. It was a beautiful morning late in November. First came the short railway journey, which was a treat in itself, for Hetty had not often been away from home. Then a long walk, followed by dinner in a cheerful little room overlooking the sea.
“How pretty it is here! I like it better than Eastdown," she said as after dinner they walked along the cliffs.
“I shall be leaving in a week or two now. I wish I could carry you away to Hollingdale.”
Hetty colored with pleasure. How pleased she was Mr. Austen liked her so much.
“Do you think your mother could spare you? I should like to have your bright young face to cheer me in my lonely home. But perhaps it would not be good for you, child. You would get moped to death.”
“Oh, no! Mr. Austen. I should so like it. I know mamma would let me go if you asked her.”
“Well, my dear, I will call and ask your mother some day when I am over.”
After a most enjoyable walk, they returned for tea before starting for Eastdown.
“They are my boys," said Mr. Austen, noticing that Hetty's eyes frequently wandered to a photograph standing near. He added, softly, "See, this was Wilfred, and here is a recent one of him. He knew your little friend.”
“Yes," said Hetty, she had heard a good deal about him lately. "What a kind, good, handsome face he has," she thought.
“They both came to Jesus early. Little Charlie was soon called to shine up above; but Wilfred! I did not think he would follow so soon. I thought I should go first. Well, Hetty, I must not make you sad. God's ways are best. Oh, by-the by, I want to have a few words with you about yourself before you go. Has the good Shepherd found you yet, my child?”
“Yes, Mr. Austen, I think so.”
“Come and tell me all about it, my child.”
Hetty hesitated; she was shy of speaking about herself, she would rather have not been obliged to talk of her innermost feelings. But there was no help for it, Mr. Austen was waiting for an answer.
“I did not come that day, when Fanny did, I knew she had for she looked so different. I thought there was no hurry about me for I was not ill; but lately I have been thinking more about it. I felt so miserable to think I was outside the fold, so I kept praying to Jesus to take me in. But one night, as I was reading my chapter, I came to the verse, ‘knock and it shall be opened to you,' and I thought, why, I have been knocking ever so long, so the door must be open, and all I have to do is to go in, so I knelt down and thanked Jesus for opening the door, and I said, ‘Lord, I am coming in now,' and then I remembered you said, ‘Coming was believing,' so I said, ‘I believe Thou art here though I cannot see Thee, and I believe that Thou didst die on the cross for me, and I come to Thee to have all my sins washed away.' I think Jesus took me in then, for He said, 'Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.'”
It was with great effort that Hetty got through this long explanation. She made many pauses, but she felt she must go through with it. Mr. Austen had drawn her to his side, and she knew he would not let her go till she had satisfied him on all he wanted to know.
“Thank you, Hetty," he said as she concluded. "I know all about your not wanting to tell me, but it was better that you should confess Christ bravely. Better that you should begin right. Do not be ashamed, my child, of saying you are a Christian.”
Now then you must go and get ready. It is time we started.
Chapter 5: The Gipsies' Caravan
“HUSH, Nell! do not cry, darling. She shall not hurt you any more. We'll cut and run, Nell, you and I; will it not be fine for us to give them the slip. Come, cheer up. Ah! she's coming to fetch you; but never mind what she does, it will be the last time.”
“Get along with you, Joe Barker, none of your impudence. I'll tell your father of you, I will. Always hanging about that child instead of going about your business.”
Joe Barker knew better than to interfere as his step-mother seized his little sister, and after administering several hard blows, carried her up the caravan steps, shutting the door after her.
“How can I get her away?" thought Joe, as he sat listening to the sobs of the frightened child. "Well, I'm doing no good here; I'd better be out of sight.”
So saying, Joe crossed the common on which his father's caravan stood, and, climbing a gate near, lay down behind a hedge to "bide his time," as he expressed himself. He had not long to wait, Mrs. Barton soon descended the caravan steps and took her way to the village carrying a number of brushes and brooms for sale; and what good luck! leaving Nellie behind. Now was Joe's time, he bounded across the common and into the caravan, crying “Quick, Nell, quick! get your hat and something warm, and let's be off. Stay, I'll make a bundle of your things. Is there anything more you want? Well, you can carry these, and I'll take my box. I am sure I've a right to it, as I am going to keep you now instead of father.”
In less than five minutes they had left the caravan, the only home Nellie had ever known, and were making the best of their way down a country lane, in the opposite direction to which the rest of the party had gone.
Do not be frightened, Nell; they'll not be able to find us. They'll only think you are out with me on my rounds.”
Arriving about mid-day at a village, Joe was fortunate enough to get a good sale for his tapes and buttons.
“Hark! Nell," he said as he rattled the pence in his pocket; "that's all for you and me. Art hungry, Nell? We'll buy some bread at yonder shop and sit and rest awhile. I reckon you are tired.”
'Tired little Nellie was, but after a very short rest she was ready to start off again. She was too anxious to put a long distance between herself and step-mother to wish to linger on the road, however weary she might be.
“Joe," she said, as they trudged along the road again, after finishing their meal, "you said you would tell me all the parson told you that night.”
“Aye, Nell, that's just what I was thinking of doing, but wait till we are sitting down. I'm looking out for a haystack where we could sleep to-night. We must take care of the pence for some days we shall have bad luck.”
Poor Nellie was well nigh worn out before a suitable place was reached.
“Art comfortable, Nell?" Joe asked, as he placed her in a snug corner he had made for her in a load of loose straw.
“Yes, Joey, dear. I'm so comfortable and happy, but you'll teach me the prayer before it's dark, won't you?”
“Here it be," said Joe, pulling out the little card. "Now say it after me till you know it, Nell.”
It was some time before this was accomplished; at last Nellie said it perfectly.
“Tell me what it means, Joe.”
“Well, you see, Nell, we are all bad, but God loves us, so He sent Jesus to die for us, and His blood will wash away our sins.”
“Is that what the parson said, Joe?”
“Yes, and I have read it in the Testament. Hark to this, Nell: ‘God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life,' and here's another verse, ‘Hereby perceive we the love of God, because he laid down his life for us.'”
“Does God love me, Joe?”
“Aye, Nell. I guess He does. There's summat here about little children coming to Jesus, and some round about tried to turn them away, but Jesus would not have that, and He called them and took them up in His arms. Ah! here it is, I turned it down on purpose for you. Jesus said, ‘Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.”
“Will Jesus take me in His arms, Joe?”
“He's gone back to heaven now, Nell; but He can see us all the same, and He hears us when we pray, and will take care of us.”
“I wish I could go to Him like they did," thought weary little Nell as she closed her eyes. "I am so tired I should like Him to take me in His arms.”
“Poor child," thought Joe as he sat watching her; "I do not know what I shall do with her when winter comes. She'll die of cold.”
It was with an anxious heart that Joe lay down to rest. Had he done right in taking his little sister away from where at least she had food and shelter from the cold? But anything was better than to see her beaten and ill-treated. And would not God take care of them if he asked Him? And Joe did ask; long into the night he lay looking up into the star-lit sky while he prayed, "Lord, take care of the little one, give us food eno' and let me find work before the winter sets in.”
Day after day passed and to Joe's great relief the weather still continued mild. It was not always they had such good success as on their first morning. Very often Joe went dinnerless that Nell might have enough. But they often met with great kindness from the people of the villages they went through. "Pretty dear," some kind motherly body would say; "she looks as if a good basin of bread and milk would do her good. Bless her little heart. Sit down, dear, and I'll soon heat ye some.”
“Would you like to go in, Nell?" asked Joe as they stood opposite a door one Sunday afternoon, watching a stream of Sunday-school children as they thronged in.
“Come on then, we needn't be seen. We'll only go just inside the door.”
“Oh! isn't it beautiful?" whispered little Nell, who had never been in a school before, as they took their places in the last seat. "And isn't the singing just grand?”
It was a children's service. The prayers were short, the hymns bright, and the address adapted to the understanding of the little hearers. The text was taken from Matt. 18:14, "Even so it is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish.”
Nellie listened in breathless attention while the clergyman told the story of the shepherd going out into the cold night to look for the little lamb that was lost. And how when he found it, he put it on his shoulders, and carried it home rejoicing. And then he went on to say, "And now, dear children, we are all like that little lost sheep. We have all run away from the good Shepherd, and some of us have strayed very far from Him. But the shepherd went after the sheep all the way it had wandered. And so Jesus has followed us, and it is not far back to Him, because He has come to seek us.”
He went on to tell how Jesus, when He looked down on the earth and saw so many of His people had gone astray into the wilderness, and He began to think of coming to look for His sheep, He knew what it would cost Him, He knew He would have to leave His bright happy home and be an outcast, and He knew that people would not listen to Him, and that they would mock and put Him to death on the cross, and that He would have to suffer even to death. But He was willing to suffer all this because He loved His little lambs so much. You know all our sins cause Jesus pain, we cannot commit a single sin without grieving Him, but you know our not coming to Him, our not believing Him, causes Him more pain than anything else.
“Are you going to try and make Him happy this afternoon?" The Lord Jesus Himself rejoices when one soul trusts in Him. Yes, we are told, "there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth." The service ended with the beautiful hymn, "Jesus is our Shepherd," and though Nellie could not read, she heard enough of the sweet words to fill her little heart with joy and peace.
Jesus is our Shepherd, leading on His flock,
To the living fountains gushing from the rock,
And lest foes should injure any little lambs
These He gently gathers in His loving hands.
Jesus is our Shepherd; nothing need we fear;
Though the wolves surround us, none will venture near;
Though we all may often, wander from the track,
Yet He will not suffer any to go back.
Jesus is our Shepherd: we are in the fold—
Carried in his bosom, shielded from the cold.
Oh, how safely dwelling in the Savior's arms,
Guarded from all danger, kept from all alarms.
Jesus is our Shepherd, none can e'er be lost,
If we but consider, what a price we cost.
How, that He to save us, left His throne on high;
Gave Himself a ransom for the flock to die.
Jesus is our Shepherd, we belong to Him;
He it was redeemed us from our guilt and sin.
Therefore He will keep us, we are His own lambs,
Purchased with His life blood from His side and hands.
Chapter 6: How Hetty Learned to Work for Jesus
“I AM glad to have you here, Hetty," said Mr. Austen, as they sat over the fire the evening after their arrival at Hollingdale. "I do not know what I should do without you. But how your mother will miss you!”
“Yes," said Hetty, with a little sigh. "But then, you know, Mr. Austen, she has papa and Alfy, and you have no one.”
“And how do you suppose you are going to amuse yourself here, Hetty, with no companions of your own age?”
“Oh," said Hetty, with a laugh; "I shall have heaps to do, I shall write a long letter to mamma every week and tell her everything, and I shall go for long walks, and practice, and draw, and then there's my wool-work, too.”
“Why truly, Hetty, that is a long list. I am afraid you will not find time to do a little work that I was thinking of giving you.
“Oh, Mr. Austen, of course I can. What is it?”
“Well, my child, do you know the hymn that tells us that—
‘Hearts are bruised and dead,
And homes are bare and cold,
And lambs for whom the Shepherd bled,
Are straying from the fold.
To comfort and to bless,
To find a balm for woe,
To tend the lone and fatherless
Is angel's work below.’
“Would you like some of this work, Hetty?”
“But could I, Mr. Austen? I'm so young.”
“Not too young, Hetty.
‘No matter if young, or unskilled, or unlearned;
No matter if feeble, unknown, or obscure,
If only the heart be to heaven upturned,
The work shall be blest and the winning be sure.’
And then, my child, there is always One ready to speak to you that you may speak to others, to teach you that you may teach, if you will only sit at His feet.
‘Back to Thy feet, Lord, back to Thy feet.
I have run that message for Thee:
I have tried to tell of Thy dying love,
To teach of the glorious home above;
O, Master, now teach me.;’”
“But what can I do, Mr. Austen?”
‘If among the older people
You may not be apt to teach,
‘Feed my lambs,' said Christ our Shepherd,
Place the food within their reach.
And it may be that the children
You have led with trembling hand,
Will be found among His jewels
When you reach the better land.
Let none hear you idly saying,
‘There is nothing I can do,'
While the souls of men are dying,
And the Master calls for you.
Take the task He gives you gladly,
Let His work your pleasure be;
Answer quickly when He calleth,
'Here am I, send me, send me.'”
“Will you answer so, Hetty? Will you take the task He gives you?”
“Yes, Mr. Austen.”
“That's right, my dear. Then I will arrange a little class at the Sunday-school to-morrow, and you can begin at once. And next week you shall go with me to see some of my poor people, and I dare say we shall find some who would be very glad to have you read the Bible to them now and then.”
“It is a great privilege to be called to work so early in God's harvest," said Mr. Austen, as next morning they started for the Sunday-school.
“Only think, child, He has given you a little corner of His harvest field to work in. The world is the harvest field, and a noble band of men and women are laboring in it. But they are nothing when we think of the work to be done.
“Oh! how great is the need that we should remember our Lord's injunction, and pray to the Lord of the harvest that He would send laborers into His harvest. To every laborer God assigns his place.
“Some He sends to Africa, some to India, others to America, China, or Japan. To some He gives large fields of labor, to others small.
“And now to you He gives this little corner in the Sunday-school. Maybe God will not give you the reaping. The sowing may be all He calls upon you to do, but remember that—
‘Sown in the darkness, or sown in the light,
Sown in our weakness, or sown in our might:
Gathered in time or eternity,
Sure, ah! sure, will the harvest be.'”
It was with a beating heart that Hetty entered the Sunday-school. A minute before she had been rejoicing that God had called her to be a worker for Him, and now she felt half inclined to go back, so nervous she felt as she followed Mr. Austen up the room.
But it was only for a minute. "How stupid I was to be frightened," she thought, as she took her place before a low form, where sat some six or seven little fellows. They did not look at all formidable, and she was soon quite at her ease, asking their names, and setting them to look over their verses.
Singing and prayer being over, Hetty commenced her lesson; and Mr. Austen, from the other end of the room, looking across at her from time to time, noticed how eagerly the little boys were listening to her, and how quiet she was keeping them.
That was only the beginning of many a happy Sunday for Hetty Lynden. How she enjoyed those Sunday morning walks to the school with her aged friend. How his loving words of counsel sank deeply into her young heart, and what a pleasure and joy her Sunday-school class was.
How she got to love the little fellows, who seemed so pleased to see "teacher," and who were so good and obedient to her.
The weeks went by very rapidly to Hetty, every day was so full of occupation that she hardly knew how time went. So when at last the summons came for her to return home, she was quite taken by surprise.
“I wish I needn't go," she said, looking up from her mother's letter.
“Need not go home?" asked Mr. Austen, in surprise. "Surely, my dear, you will be pleased to see your father and mother.”
“Oh, yes, I did not mean that. But mamma says she wishes me to go and stay with my aunt on my way back.”
“Why should you dislike this visit, Hetty?”
“Well, you see," said Hetty, "Aunt Howard is very strict. She has an orphanage, and she is so cross to the girls sometimes. My cousin Edith told me how things were always going wrong, and every one was blamed for what was not their fault. And I wish I was not going," ended Hetty with a sigh.
“I shall be sorry to lose you, my child, but perhaps, Hetty, the dear Lord has some little work for you to do for Him there.
“Remember it is only another corner is the same harvest field. There may be some poor little desolate heart to be comforted, and God has chosen you to do it. Let us ask God to ‘show you what He would have you do,' and also to give you ‘grace and power faithfully to fulfill the same.'”
Chapter 7: Why Connie Weston Was So Shy
“OH, Hetty! I am glad you have come. You cannot think how dull I am. There's nothing talked of all day but those horrid girls. I sometimes wish I was out of it all.”
“You must come and stay with us in the summer, Edith. I shall ask mamma to invite you.”
“Oh, thank you, Hetty; that's just what I should like. It would be a relief to get away from this noise. Is it not dreadful?”
Hetty looked across at the playground, where some thirty or forty girls were playing. They were just out from school and were evidently making the most of the half-hour before dinner. Rough, rude girls some of them were, quite beyond the management of the quiet little monitress, who stood wearily watching them.
“Who is that girl taking care of them?" asked Hetty.
“Not taking care of them you mean, I suppose," replied her cousin. "Oh, that is Connie Weston, she's a perfect simpleton. If mother came by and heard that noise, wouldn't she give it her.”
“She looks very sad.”
“Yes, she is always dull and stupid like that. The governesses say she's of no use at all. I wonder mother keeps her. I would soon pack her off, I know.”
“May I go and speak to her, Edith?”
“Of course if you want to, but I shall not wait. You will find me in the garden when you like to come.”
Left alone Hetty made her way to the playground. Holding out her hand to poor Connie Weston, she said, "I thought you would not mind my coming to speak to you. Don't you get very tired of standing so long?”
“I do get tired sometimes," said Connie, with a sigh. "And the girls are so troublesome.”
Connie Weston was shy and reserved. No one had ever heard her tale of sorrow. No one in that busy, bustling house had ever thought of asking her why she was sad. Her affairs were nothing to them.
But now before Hetty had been with her five minutes, she found herself disburdening her sad heart to the little stranger, who with sympathetic voice kept whispering as she pressed her hand, "Poor Connie, poor Connie.”
Hetty quite forgot her cousin waiting for her in the garden, as she listened to the sad story. Only two months before Connie had lost both her father and mother, and now, poor child, she was alone in the world, unloved, uncared for, surrounded by strangers.
“No wonder," thought Hetty, "she looks so listless and sorrowful.”
“Hetty," called Edith from the garden gate, "you had better come away. If mother saw you gossiping with Connie Weston, you would only get her into trouble.”
“Good-bye, Connie," said Hetty, as she turned reluctantly to leave her. "I wish I could stay longer, but perhaps I shall see you in the evening.”
“Whatever have you found to talk about with that mute,” exclaimed Edith, as arm in arm the cousins strolled about the garden walks.
“I never can get a word out of her, I sometimes feel inclined to shake her.”
“Oh, Edith!" said Hetty reproachfully.
“Well, I do. I can't see what you find in her to interest you.”
“I wanted to comfort her, Edith.”
As soon as Hetty could leave her cousin, she ran up to her room, and choosing a book which she thought most likely to interest Connie, she slipped it in her pocket ready to give her on the first opportunity.
Running downstairs she came upon the children as they marched in to dinner. Putting the book into Connie's hands as she passed, she whispered—“Make haste and read it, and then I'll give you another." She was rewarded by the look of pleasure which crossed the poor girl's pale face.
As Hetty was passing the schoolroom door the next morning, she caught sight of a little girl standing by herself in the middle of the schoolroom, sobbing as if her heart would break.
She was evidently a new girl, for she was not dressed like the other children.
The governesses were taking no notice of her, perhaps they had no time they could spare to comfort the little stranger. "Why don't they let her sit down by the fire," thought Hetty, "instead of putting her just in front of all the children where they can all stare at her.”
“Miss Carter," she said, walking up to the governess, "May I take the little new girl to sit with me in the courtyard?”
“Oh! to be sure, Miss Hetty. I cannot awhile to see to her yet. When school is over I have to take her to the store-room to get her fitted with clothes.”
“What's your name?" asked Hetty, as she led the little child to the bench in the courtyard.
“Nellie Barker.”
“What are you crying about, Nellie?"
“Because I wants Joe.”
“Who is Joe?”
“My brother; he's hurt his foot, and gone into the union, but he did not want me to go, so Mrs. Smith brought me here. I wish he had let me go with him.”
By the time the governess came for her, Hetty had learned Nellie's whole story, and had succeeded in comforting the child.
“I'm much obliged to you, miss, for seeing to her. I must say I was sorry for the child. I daresay it is bad enough coming fresh, and feeling everything so strange. But you do not know how hardhearted it makes one living here. It is work, work all day, without a moment's rest.”
“I suppose God sent me to comfort little Nellie and poor Connie," thought Hetty, as the governess and child left the courtyard.
“I wonder if there is any one else sad here. Yes, there is Edith. I know she is not really happy, because she does not love Jesus, and is not in the fold. Perhaps I might help her to get in. I'll ask her if she will come and read with me to-night when I go to bed.”
“Well, here I am, Hetty," said Edith, as, Bible in hand, she entered her cousin's room at nine o'clock. "I'm come according to your bidding, but let's make haste, for I am half asleep already.”
But Edith was in no hurry to go when they had finished their chapter, John 10. She listened with great interest while Hetty told of Mr. Austen's talk with her and Fanny, and then of Fanny's death and last letter.
Night after night the cousins met, they read together, they prayed together, and had long earnest talks. And before Hetty left she had the joy of knowing that Edith too was one of the Lord's jewels.
“Oh, Edith!" she exclaimed one morning a little more than a week before the day appointed for her return home. "I have thought of such a good plan. You know how that poor little Nellie is always moping? Miss Carter says she is quite anxious about her; she does not eat her food, and you know she never plays with the others. Poor little thing, I cannot bear to think of leaving her here, though I know you would be kind to her. But she wants taking great care of, I'm sure, so I am going to write to mamma about her, and if she agrees I shall ask aunt to let me take her home to Mrs. Woods.”
“Well, to be sure, Hetty! What will you do next?”
“But do not you think it a good plan, Edith?”
“Yes, very.”
“Do you think aunt will let me?”
“I think she would let you do anything you wanted to, Hetty. You are a great favorite with mother, I can tell you.”
Both girls waited anxiously for the reply to Hetty's letter. A day or two after it came, and to Hetty's great joy it was a willing consent to her plan.
“Mamma agrees; I knew she would. Now I must go to aunt. You come too, Edith.”
“I cannot refuse such a good offer for one of my poor children, Hetty," said her aunt. "There is no one in the world I would sooner entrust a child to than your mother. And you say the woman she is to live with is one you know well and have perfect confidence in?
“Well, I am quite satisfied. I must write and thank your mother for her kindness.”
“Do you know, Edith, I have not told you all yet?" said Hetty, as her aunt left the room.
“I asked mamma if she could not find out Joe, Nellie's brother, and she says that papa has written to the workhouse about him, and if he can hear of him, he will employ him in the garden, and he can lodge at Mrs. Woods' too.
“There is plenty of room. Won't it be nice for Nellie?
“But I shall not tell her till I am quite sure about it; for perhaps they will not be able to find him.”
Chapter 8: Hetty Returns Home
“OH! Miss Hetty, I wish you were not going yet. I do not know what I shall do without you. There will be no one to speak a kind word to me when you are gone.”
“Oh, yes there will, Connie. My cousin says she is going to look after you, and I think Miss Carter will be kind, too. I thought I saw you with her last night.”
“Yes, she asked me to go for a walk with her. She has been much kinder the last few days.”
Connie did not know that this was owing to a conversation Hetty had had with the governess about her.
Hetty had told her the poor girl's sad story, and had succeeded in interesting her very much in Connie, and had made her sorry for her coldness and harshness to her when she was in such sorrow.
“I shall write to you, Connie. And do you know what I am thinking of doing? I am going to ask mamma to let you come and stay with us in the summer.”
Though every one was sorry when the time came for Hetty to leave, no one was more so than Connie Weston. Hetty had brought light and hope to her again. Life could never look so hopeless to her as it had done a few weeks before.
And there was not one in the school who would not miss the bright, loving little girl. For Miss Hetty had become a great favorite with the girls; she was ever ready to join in a game, and on Sunday afternoons had often read to them for hours together out of one of her favorite books.
“Here, Hetty, is a letter from your mother. I wonder if it is to say that Nellie's brother has been found? Do make haste and see.”
“Yes," said Hetty, as she eagerly scanned the first page. "Mamma says that Joe has come. Oh, won't Nellie be pleased?”
Yes, little Nellie was indeed pleased. She had been thankful to think that the kind young lady was going to take her away to a pretty little cottage by the sea, near her own home. But her little heart had been filled with anxiety and sorrow about her brother, whom she dearly loved. Now, when she heard that he was to live with her, her joy knew no bounds.
“How glad I am I came," thought Hetty, as she looked at the little one's happy face. "Mr. Austen was right in saying there was something for me to do here.”
Some such thoughts were passing through Edith's mind as she stood by, “If you had not come, Hetty, perhaps Nellie might never have seen her brother again. For I do believe she would have moped herself to death. And I do not think any one but you would have noticed her. But you have changed all that. I'll try in future to be more like you. There's many a thing I might do for the girls. Mother would be only too glad if she thought I was taking an interest in them. I might take them for walks and get up a picnic now and then.”
“And, Edith, will you read to them on Sunday afternoons. Do you know, dear, if you were to teach the girls about Jesus, you would be working in God's harvest-field.”
“Oh, Hetty! I am afraid I cannot try that sort of thing. I am not used to it like you. I know I should not like to talk to them as you do.”
“But, Edith dear, you would soon get used to it. And it's worth a little trouble, isn't it. Only think if you will not teach them, they may never become jewels for Jesus.”
“Well, I'll try, Hetty.”
“I am so glad, dear. I think there is nothing so pleasant as working for Jesus. It's wonderful to think that He allows us to work for Him, and that He will have exceeding gladness' when we bring any one to Him. Do you know that poetry of Miss Havergal's, ‘Presented Faultless.' I am so fond of it. I'll say it to you if you like.
“'Our Savior and our King
Enthroned and crowned above,
Shall with exceeding gladness bring
The children of His love.
All that the Father gave
His glory shall behold;
Not one whom Jesus came to save
Is missing from the fold.
He shall confess His own
From every clime and coast,
Before His Father's glorious throne,
Before the angel host.
Oh righteous Father, see,
In spotless robes arrayed,
Thy chosen gifts of love to me,
Before the worlds were made.
By new creation Thine,
By purpose and by grace;
By right of full redemption mine,
Faultless before Thy face.
As Thou hast loved me,
So hast Thou loved them,
Thy precious jewels they shall be,
My glorious diadem!’"
The cousins had no more time for talking, and a few minutes later, Hetty and her charge were on their way to the railway station.
“You will try and be very good to your new mother, won't you, Nellie? You know she has lost her own little girl, so you must be like a daughter to her, and take care of her. She will love you very much if you are good.”
“Yes, I'll be very good," said Nellie. "And I'll love her very much, but I shall love Joe best.”
As the train stopped at Eastdown station, Nellie looked out eagerly for her brother.
“Oh, there he is, there's Joe, miss," she cried, as she caught sight of him standing on the platform, and in another minute she was in Joe's arms.
“Oh, Nellie," he whispered. "I have so missed you. I am right glad to see you.”
“Are you going to take her home at once, Joe?" asked Hetty, as he put down his little sister.
“Yes, miss. I was to tell you that Nellie was to go straight home with me and that missus would see her in the morning.”
Joe’s heart was full of gratitude as he walked along holding his little sister's hand.
“Nell," said he, "we must thank God for this. I kept worrying myself about you when we were on the roads, and then when I hurt my foot I was sore grieved to let you go to the home. But it was for the best. You would not have been known to the young lady if you had not been there.
“Look! there's the cottage. Nell. Mother is that eager expecting you, she hasn't been able to settle to anything the whole day. She's a kind one, she is. She'll soon make you feel at home.”
Mrs. Woods was standing at the window watching for them, and as soon as they came in sight she ran out to meet them. Nellie did not expect such a warm welcome as she received. Mrs. Woods did not consider her as a little stranger to be fed and done for; no, here was a poor motherless child, sent by the good Lord to take the empty place in her heart and be a little comfort to her.
“Oh, Joe," she cried, as she held her at arm's length to inspect her. "She has my Fanny's hair and eyes. Bless her little heart. Do you think you can love me, dear?”
Nellie answered by throwing her arms round her neck.
“Poor little one, poor little Nellie. Joe's told me how hard you have been treated. But all that's passed now. You have fallen amongst friends, and so has Joe. I tell him that if he behaves himself he'll maybe get to be head gardener some day. Yes, it is a good thing for you both that the little lady took a fancy to you, child. Now, come and take off your hat. You must want your tea.”
That was a happy evening for Nellie, and happy too for Hetty Lynden. How sweet it was to be home again after her long absence; to be clasped in her mother's arms, to see the dear face and loving smile that she had so often longed for a glimpse of, even in her busiest and happiest moments. How much there was to be told, and how much to talk over. Mrs. Lynden very readily gave permission to her little daughter to invite her cousin and poor Connie Weston in the summer. She was ever glad to give her help and counsel to any little project that Hetty had in view.
“And what do you think of Joe?" she asked in the course of the evening.
“Oh, I liked the look of him, mamma. He seemed so pleased to see Nellie, and so kind to her.”
“Yes, he is very fond of his little sister. He seemed quite overcome with joy when he first came, and I told him of our plan. I am glad my little Hetty is beginning early to care for the wants and sorrows of the poor. Theirs has been a hard life, poor things, we should be thankful that we have it in our power to give them a comfortable home now.”
Chapter 9: Connie's Pleasant Visit to Hetty
THE sea-shore had great charms for Nellie Barker. As the spring days became warm and bright, she spent all her spare time on the beach. But her greatest pleasure was to go for a walk with Joe when his day's work was over.
She would watch for him in the lane, and when she saw him in the distance run to meet him. Mrs. Woods would look up and welcome them with a smile as they came in hand in hand, and would bustle to get the tea ready. And sometimes when the meal was over she would be persuaded to put on her bonnet and accompany them in their evening walk.
Hetty was a constant visitor at the cottage, and her appearance was always hailed by Nellie with great delight.
Though the child had become very much attached to her foster-mother, she always looked upon Hetty as her first friend. It was she who had comforted her when she had gone amongst strangers, and had brought her to live with Joe. And Hetty would have long talks with Joe; from him she learned all about that memorable night, when he was first taught of God's love.
And very interested she was to find that the so-called parson of Joe's story was none other than Mr. Austen's son, of whom she had heard so much.
About six weeks after Hetty's return home, her cousin and Connie Weston arrived at Eastdown for their promised visit. Connie's holidays were only for three weeks, and then she must return to her work; but Hetty had told Edith that she should not let her go for at least two months. Hetty was surprised in the change in Connie's appearance, she looked quite bright and cheerful.
“Well, Connie, how have you been getting on?" she asked, as she took them for their first walk on the beach.
“Oh, very well, miss. You cannot think how kind Miss Edith has been to me. It is good of her to take so much trouble with me.”
“Oh, what nonsense," laughed Edith. "Why, I like your company. I am not half so dull as I used to be. We have had such splendid walks, Hetty, Connie and I, and have become such fast friends.”
Connie flushed with pleasure, her's was a different life now to what it had been a month or two before. But though she had grown very fond of Edith, she did not forget that all her present happiness was owing to Hetty. Neither did Edith.
“I shall always be thankful that you came to stay with us, Hetty," she said.
“If it had not been for you I might have been now thinking of no one but myself, and be as miserable and dissatisfied as I used to be. But you taught me how really to be happy by trying to make others happy. And, dear, you brought me to Jesus, and I am trying now to bring others to Him. I really think some of the girls do love Him.
“Oh! Hetty, I can never thank you enough for what you taught me.”
“I only told you what Mr. Austen talked to Fanny and me about. See, Edith, here is the very place, we were sitting on this great stone when he came up. Shall we rest here a minute?”
The girls sat down in silence, they were all busy with their own thoughts. Presently Hetty began to sing in a low voice the hymn that had become so dear to her since the first time she read it nearly a year ago on that very spot.
When He cometh, when He cometh,
To make up His jewels,
All His jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and His own.
Like the stars of the morning,
His bright crown adorning,
They shall shine in their beauty,
Bright gems for His crown.
All three girls sprang to their feet as the chorus was taken up by a man's voice.
“It's Mr. Austen!" cried Hetty, as she darted forward to meet him. "Oh, I am so glad, so very glad to see you again.”
After the first greeting was over Mr. Austen sat down beside them.
“I am pleased to find you so occupied in singing of the Lord's return. Oh! what a glorious day that will be ‘when He cometh to make up His jewels.' Will you be there?" turning to Edith, "and you?" to Connie.
“Oh! children, if you belong to Him, if you are His jewels, let your life be spent in bringing others to Him.”
“Keep that day in view, and labor for it. Labor diligently, labor unceasingly, and let your constant prayer be that God would make you ready both in body and soul to cheerfully accomplish those things which He would have done. The God of all grace has called you unto His eternal glory.
“Oh! call others, say to others 'come,' that they may share the glory. Oh, teach others to fear the Lord, to speak of the Lord, and to think upon His name; that the Lord may hearken and write their names in His book of remembrance, ‘and they shall be mine, saith the Lord of Hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels.'”
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