Joe was a neighbor to George Cutting. His life had indeed been a black one, and no amount of pleading or remonstrance on Mr. Cutting's part availed to change Joe's course. Drinking, swearing, and poaching were the things that most marked him until called upon at the age of sixty to face the end. First hardness, then real anxiety marked Joe's closing days; but joy and peace came at last, as Mr. Cutting found on an afternoon visit to his sick neighbor.
"I was truly surprised," said Mr. Cutting, "on going to his bedside to see Joe extend his hand and hear him say, `Ah, Georgie, my lad, I am not afeered to dee now!'”
"'Why is that, Joe?'”
"`Oh, because Jesus has made a way through death for me. Help me, Georgie, to thank Him for dying for poor old Joe! I shall soon see Him. It won't be long.'”
G. C.—K.