LITTLE JACK AND BIG JACK
LITTLE JACK AND BIG JACK
I think Tom very much enjoyed that week at Runswick Bay. The more he saw of the place the more he liked it. He and Duncan got on famously together. They smoked together on a seat above the house, and Duncan told him stories of shipwrecks and storms, whilst I sat painting just below them.
One night he even persuaded Duncan to let him go out with him fishing, and Duncan confided to me afterwards, 'That there friend of yours, sir, he's a real handy chap; knows how to use his fingers, sir, and isn't afraid of a drop of salt water neither.'
We came across Mr. Christie on the shore the very first time that we went out together, and I introduced him as a friend of my mother whom I had been delighted to find in this out-of-the-way place; and Tom talked very pleasantly to him, and I think liked him.
'What is he doing here, Jack?' he said. 'He does not look like the rest of them.'
'He is a lay-preacher,' I said.
'Whatever in the world is a lay-preacher?' said Tom laughing.
I did not answer, but called his attention to little Jack, who was running along the shore after his red cap, which had been carried off by a gust of wind.
'That's his little boy,' I said, 'and my namesake; they lived in my father's parish in London, and Mr. Christie and his wife adored my mother. It was seeing her photograph on the wall of their room which made them discover who I was.'
'What a splendid little fellow!' said Tom as the child came up to us. 'So you are Jack, are you?'
'Yes, I'm little Jack, and he's big Jack,' said the boy roguishly, looking at me.
I was not surprised that Tom made friends very quickly with my little favourite, for he was wonderfully fond of children, and many were the games which he and the two children had together whilst I was at work.
Every evening Tom and I walked together, and we explored all the country for miles around. Sometimes we went by train and walked back by the cliffs. The train seemed to land us at each station in the midst of fresh beauty, and I came to the conclusion that Yorkshire was indeed, what I had always been told by my mother, the most beautiful county in England.
'Now, Jack,' said Tom on Saturday morning, 'we'll have a really good day to-morrow. You won't want to paint, will you?'
'No,' I said hurriedly, 'I don't paint on Sundays.'
'All right,' he said, 'it's much the best plan; you come fresher to it on Monday. "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." That old couplet must have been made for you, Jack. Well, then, let's see, where shall we go? Suppose we make a long day of it, and go to Scarborough. We must see Scarborough before we go home, must we not? We will go by the early train, and come back as late as we can. The worst of it is there are not so many trains to choose from on Sunday, but I daresay we shall find one that will suit'; and, without saying another word, he went off to my lodging for aBradshaw.
What was I to do? A few weeks ago a Sunday spent in pleasure would have been just what I should have chosen, and many a time had Tom and I been up the river on Sunday together. There was hardly a place within easy distance up the Thames which we had not visited in this way. But now I felt very differently about these things. Sunday was my Master's own day: every moment of it, I felt, must be consecrated to Him. No one had talked to me about Sunday observance, but my conscience told me very clearly what was right in the matter. Yet, although I had no doubt as to what I ought to do in the matter, I am ashamed to say that for some time I hesitated. Tom would be so terribly disappointed, I said to myself, and he had been a good friend to me, and I did not want to vex him; surely there would be no great harm in obliging him this once! Besides, when I get to Scarborough I may have time to go to church, and then, after all, where is the difference? I argued with myself; I shall take a longer journey to church, that is all.
And then Tom came back, full of his plans for the day. He had already settled the train we were to catch, and he told me that he looked forward to seeing Scarborough immensely, as his mother had stayed there a year ago, and she had told him it was the most beautiful watering-place she had ever visited.
I tried to feel pleased with what Tom had arranged, but in my heart I was very miserable, and just at that moment who should appear but Marjorie and Jack, distributing the pink papers containing the invitation to the service on the shore. I turned away when I saw them coming. I looked towards the sea, and took my little telescope from my pocket, that I might seem to be intent on watching a distant steamer. What would Duncan say? What would Mr. Christie say? What would my little friend Jack say, when I did not appear at the shore service? And how shocked they would be when they heard I had gone off for a day's pleasure!
I hoped that the children would pass us by, and would go to a large group of fishermen standing on the shore just beyond us. But I was not to escape thus. Marjorie came up to Tom and presented him with a paper, and she was going to give one to me, but my little friend stopped her, 'No, no, Marjorie,' he said in his most fascinating tones, 'let me give one to my own Mr. Jack. I always give you one my own self, don't I, big Jack?'
I patted him on the head and took the paper, but I did not answer, and the children passed on. Tom opened his paper and read it aloud,—
'"There will be a short service on the shore next Sunday morning." Oh, indeed,' he said, 'that's what they're after, is it? Distributing notices for some Methodist meeting. Is that where Christie holds forth?'
'Yes,' I said, 'he preaches every Sunday.'
'Well, Mr. Christie,' he went on, 'you won't havemethere to hear you. I hate those canting meetings, don't you, Jack?Subject. Ah, he tells us his subject beforehand, does he? Very kind of him, I'm sure!Subject: Where are you going? Ah,' said Tom, 'that's soon answered: I'm going to Scarborough, old fellow, and a jolly good day I hope to have there'; and he threw the little pink paper into the air, and the wind carried it far out to sea.
All this time I had never spoken a word. A great battle was going on in my heart. Conscience was speaking very loudly, and telling me that I could not possibly take my pleasure on my Master's own day, but the tempter's voice was arguing that the time to speak had not yet come, and that perhaps for this once it would be better to yield to Tom's wishes, and that I might talk to him quietly about it, and make a fresh start after our return to London.
And so the day wore away, and evening came, and Tom had no idea whatever that I had even hesitated about going with him to Scarborough. I never spent a more unhappy day. I avoided Mr. Christie, lest he should say anything to me about the service on the following day. I was not even happy with Duncan. Tom had gone off to Saltburn, leaving me, as he supposed, to put some finishing touches to my picture; but I had no heart for painting, and only got my easel and painting materials out to put them away again directly.
Polly was in good spirits that day, for little John was so much better that he was able to sit on the floor and play, and, as I stood looking out of my small casement window, I watched her washing up in a tub standing on a wooden stool outside her door, and I heard her singing to herself as she did so. Most of the visitors had left Runswick Bay now, for it was late in the season, but the shore was covered with the village children—boys and girls without shoes and stockings, wading in the pools and running far out into the shallow sea. It was a pretty sight, the grey, quiet water, the strips of yellow sand, and the cliff covered with grass and flowers.
But I could not enjoy the scene that Saturday evening; even my artistic eye, of which I used sometimes to boast, failed me then. I was feeling thoroughly uncomfortable, and the most lovely view on earth would have failed to charm me at that moment.
There is a verse in the Bible which says, 'A little child shall lead them,' and whenever I hear that verse I think of that evening in Runswick Bay. For I was still gazing out of my window, looking at I knew not what, when I heard a well-known little voice just beneath me.
It was Jack. He had come down the hill beneath Duncan's cottage, so that I had not seen him until he spoke to me below the window.
'Mr. Jack,' he said, 'what are you doing up there? Are youverybusy?'
'No, old man,' I said, 'I'm not busy.'
'Thendocome out, that's a dear, big Mr. Jack; I do want you so much.'
Who could resist the pleading little face, and the pretty, fascinating voice of that child? He would have a hard heart who could do so. I ran downstairs, and a minute afterwards I was racing with Jack on the wet sands, for the tide was fast going out, and was helping him to fly a small kite which his father had bought for him in Whitby. We had a fine time together on the shore, until at last a towel was hung out of the top window in the Christies' house, as a sign that it was Jack's bedtime. Though he was wild with joy and excitement, the obedient little fellow at once stopped his play, and told me mother wanted him, and he must go.
'I'm coming for you to-morrow morning, Mr. Jack,' he said.
'To-morrow morning, Jack?'
'Yes, for church,' said the child, putting up his dear little chubby face to be kissed. 'Don't go without me, will you, Mr. Jack?'
'Well, I'm not sure I'm going to-morrow, little man,' I said reluctantly, 'so you had better not call for me.'
'Not going to church!' said Jack, in a very shocked voice. 'Why not, Mr. Jack?'
'I'm going to Scarborough for the day with my friend Tom,' I said. 'I shall go to church in Scarborough, Jack.'
I shall never forget the expression of that child's face as long as I live; it was a mixture of surprise, sorrow and dismay. 'Mr. Jack, do you know it's God's day to-morrow?' was all that he said, however; and as at this moment his mother called him from the bedroom window, he ran off without another word.
'Do you know it's God's day?' I asked myself when the little boy had gone. 'Yes, I do know,' I answered aloud, 'and He is my Master, and my Master's day shall be kept for Him and for His service.'
I walked to a lonely place on the shore where the sea had undermined the cliff, and had made strange holes and caves, which could only be entered at low tide. I clambered over the rocks, and crossed about half a mile of slippery seaweed, until I came to one of these weird places. Creeping inside, I felt myself safe from any human eye. I was alone—alone with my Master.
I cannot tell you all that passed during the half-hour that I spent in that lonely cave, but I know this, that I came out of it feeling that my Master had indeed given me the strength for which I had pleaded, the strength to act as His faithful and true servant.
I was waiting outside the station when Tom's train came in from Saltburn. He had not expected to see me again that night, and seemed pleased that I had come to meet him.
'I think we shall have a fine day to-morrow, old boy,' he said; 'what a dew there is! My feet are quite wet with it.'
'Tom,' I said, 'I came to meet you to-night because I wanted to tell you something. I am sorry, very sorry, to disappoint you, but I can't go with you to-morrow.'
'Why ever in the world not, Jack?' he said. 'I thought you were so keen on seeing Scarborough.'
'Yes, Tom,' I said, 'but I am still more keen on something else.'
'What's that?' he asked; 'do you mean Redcar? It's a stupid place, Jack: nothing in the world to see, I assure you.'
'No, Tom, I don't mean that. I don't want to change our plan. I had rather see Scarborough than any other place; I'll give myself a holiday on Monday, and go with you gladly, Tom; but I can't go to-morrow.'
'Nonsense, Jack!' he said angrily. 'Youcango if you like; what's to hinder you? If you are willing to go at all, why on earth can't you go to-morrow?'
'Simply because to-morrow is Sunday, Tom.'
'And if it is Sunday, what of that?' said my friend. '"The better the day, the better the deed," and it's ridiculous your talking in this saintly way about Sunday, when to my certain knowledge you've spent every fine Sunday boating on the river for the last two years or more. No, no, my friend, that won't go down with me.'
'Tom,' I said, 'it's all quite true what you say. I have, I know I have, spent my Sundays in boating or in taking my pleasure in some other way, and I am more sorry for it, Tom, than I can tell you. But since I came here—'
'Since you came here,' Tom interrupted me, 'you've gone and turned Ranter or Methodist, or something of that sort, and you've got your head full of all sorts of insane and ridiculous ideas.'
'Since I came here, Tom,' I said, taking no notice of his last remark, 'I have seen what I never saw before—that I am a great sinner; and I have found what I never found before—that Jesus is a great Saviour.'
'Well, I wish you had never come to Runswick Bay, if this is the absurd way you are going on, Jack, and after all the good old times we've had together too.'
'And why shan't we have good times together still, dear old Tom?' I said. 'I have entered the service of a new Master, that's all; and, Tom,' I said timidly, 'I wish He was your Master too.'
Tom made no answer, but swung his stick round and round, and slashed at the thistles and the ox-eye daisies which grew by the roadside. I tried to make one or two remarks, but I saw he was very much upset by what I had said, and he did not answer me. He was vexed with me, and perhaps he was a little uncomfortable besides, and I felt it was far wiser to say no more.
He did not speak again until we reached the hotel, and then he simply said, 'Good-night, Jack, I'm sorry you've gone and made such a fool of yourself'; and I went down the hill, feeling as if I had lost my friend, and as if the old days and old companionship were dead and buried for ever.
But if I had lost one friend, I felt I had gained another. Mr. Christie was waiting for me at the bottom of the hill, and he proposed that we should take a turn together on the shore. Nellie was expecting me to supper, he said; he had told Duncan I was going there, and the moon was coming out, and a good stretch on the sands would make us enjoy it all the more.
We had walked across the bay, and were standing gazing out seawards, when he suddenly put his arm in mine.
'What is it, Jack?' he said kindly, 'something is troubling you this evening.'
'Yes, you are right,' I said. 'However did you know, Mr. Christie? I am bothered a bit; the fact is, I'm ashamed of myself, I've been such a coward.'
'What have you been doing, Jack? You don't mind telling me, do you?'
'Not at all, Mr. Christie, I would rather tell you,' I said; and then I gave him an account of the last week, of my fear of Tom, and how very nearly—I was ashamed to say it—I had yielded to him about the outing to-morrow. Then I spoke of my friend, and I told him I was afraid I had lost him through my plain speaking.
'Never mind, Jack,' he said, 'the Master must come first, and it does happen very often that when He is put in His right place we have to give up a great deal. He knew we should have to do it, and He spoke some very plain words about it: "He that loveth father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me, and he that loveth son or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me." You would like to be worthy of Him, Jack?'
'I shall never be that, Mr. Christie,' I said.
'No,' he said; 'you are right, we are all unworthy of Him; but when we love Him, we do long to do that which is pleasing in His sight. And, remember, there is always the hundredfold, Jack, always the Master's reward for anything we give up for Him.'
'Yes, in heaven,' I said softly.
'No, Jack, not in heaven, but on earth. Do you remember how the Master's words run: "He shall receive an hundredfoldnow, in this time, and in the world to come, life everlasting." The hundredfold is to be enjoyedhere, the everlasting lifethere.'
'I never noticed that before,' I said.
'I have proved it true, Jack, abundantly true. I sometimes think I have got beyond the hundredfold. And then beyond, there lies the life eternal.'
'My mother is enjoying that,' I said.
'Yes, indeed,' he answered; 'and her boy will enjoy it too in God's good time, for does not the Master say of all those who belong to Him, "I give unto them eternal life?" "I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly"?'
WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
I shall never forget my last Sunday in Runswick Bay. It was at the end of September, and was one of those gloriously brilliant days which we get in the early autumn, when the sky is cloudless, when the air is fresh and clear, and when the autumnal tints on trees, hedges, ferns and brambles make the landscape gorgeous and extremely beautiful and fascinating.
The high cliff above the bay was a perfect study in colour that morning; I have never seen more splendid colouring, every varied shade of red and gold and green was to be found there.
'Tom will be off to Scarborough,' I said to myself as I dressed. 'What a grand day he has got!'
But I did not wish myself with him; no, I was both glad and thankful to look forward to a quiet and peaceful Sunday.
There were not many visitors still at Runswick, most of them had left the week before; but the fishermen came in great numbers to the service, and the green was covered with them when little Jack and big Jack appeared, hand-in-hand as usual. Duncan was in the choir, but Polly thought the wind rather cold for little John, so had remained with him at home. A good many women and children were present, however, and the bank was covered with mothers and babies, sitting at a little distance, lest the noise of the children should disturb the preacher or the listeners.
What was it that made me think of Tom just as the service began? Was it a shepherd's plaid cloth cap, of the kind Tom wears, which I saw on the head of some visitor who was sitting almost out of sight on the seaward side of the bank? Such small things bring people and things before us sometimes, and my thoughts wandered to Scarborough for a few minutes, and I wondered what Tom was doing at that moment. I thought to myself how he would smile, if he saw me sitting under the old boat and listening attentively to an open air preacher.
But my thoughts did not wander long, for when the service began every word of it seemed to be for me.
WHERE ARE YOU GOING? I had worked the subject out in my mind before I came to the service, and had quite decided what line of thought Mr. Christie would take. I thought he would picture the two roads, the one leading to life, the other to destruction; and then I imagined that he would speak of the blessedness of being on the narrow road, and would dwell very vividly on the awful consequences of continuing to walk on the road leading to hell. But I found that my idea of what his sermon would be was quite a mistaken one.
'Where are you going? My question to-day,' he said, 'is addressed only to some of you; would to God it were addressed to you all! I speak to-day to those who have crossed the line, who have run into the loving Saviour's arms, who have become servants of Christ.
'My friends, my dear friends, where are you going? What does the Master say? He calls to every one of His servants, and He says, "If any man serve Me, let him follow Me, andwhere I amthere shall also My servant be."
'Servant of Christ, where are you going? The Master answers you, WHERE I AM.
'And where is that? A little group of men are standing on the Mount of Olives; above them is the deep blue sky, and they are gazing earnestly upward, for their Master is rising far above them, and even as they watch a cloud receives Him out of their sight. Yet still He ascends higher and yet higher, and as He rises countless angels attend Him. He is joined by company after company of the heavenly host, who have come out to meet their King. At length heaven's gates are reached, and the cry goes forth, "Lift up your heads, O ye gates, even lift them up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of Glory shall come in." Amidst heaven's most joyful music the Master passes within to the Heavenly Jerusalem, the glad, glorious Home. Every care, every sin, every sorrow is left outside; within all is sunshine, all is joy. And as heaven's gates are closing, we hear the Master's voice. He leaves us a word of hope, "Where I am,thereshall also My servant be."
'Oh, fishermen, oh, friends, think of that! If you are His servants, those gates will open for you. Your life may be hard now: some of you have large families, and heavy work, and long, cold, comfortless nights tossing on the stormy sea; but never mind, home is coming, heaven is coming, for "Where I am, there shall also My servant be."
'But that is not all. There is something more wonderful still. For where is the Master now? He is not only inside the gates of the city, He is not only walking through the golden streets; but He is in the midst of the glory of God, He has sat down on the right hand of the throne of God. Will you and I, dear friends, ever dare to go near that throne? Will not the glory be too dazzling? Will not the place be holy ground, too holy for us to approach? Will He allow us to draw near to His footstool, and even there, close to His glory, to lie low before Him?
'Listen, O servant of Christ, again the Master says, "Where I am,thereshall also My servant be."
'What, on the throne of God! Yes, eventhereHe bids you come; for what does He say? "To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with Me in My throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with My Father in His throne." Oh, what a wonderful promise! We could never have thought of it; we could never have believed it; we could never even have dreamt of such a thing, if the Master had not told us Himself.'
And then he concluded by asking us to remember our glorious future. 'Sometimes,' he said, 'you get downhearted, full of sorrow and fear, and you say, "I shall never hold on to the end." Oh, dear friends, it is worth an effort, for at the end lies home, at the end stands the throne of God, with a place waiting for you upon it. "Where I am, there shall also My servant be."
'What if you have to bear something for the Master's sake? What if you have to give up friends or comforts for Him? What if you have to take up your cross and follow Him? It is only for a few days, only for a little while, and home is coming. "Where I am, there shall also My servant be." Is it not worth while?'
Then, as he ended, he spoke a few words to all who were there, and he begged those who were not servants of Christ, to consider what they were losing. 'All this might be yours,' he said, 'the wide-open gates, the Heavenly City, the seat on the glorious Throne; but you are turning your backs on it all, and you are choosing instead—what? A few of earth's fleeting pleasures, a little of this world's passing enjoyment. Oh, dear friends, think before it is too late, what your eternal loss will be!'
He said much more, but I cannot remember it now. I only know that I came away feeling that I had been very near the golden gates of which he spoke, and had heard the Master's voice saying to me, 'Where I am, there shall also My servant be.'
The tide was coming in as we left the service, and I was standing on the shore watching the waves rolling in over the rocks, when I felt an arm slipped in mine, and when I looked round, to my great surprise, I found that it was Tom.
'Why, Tom!' I said, 'back already? how early you have come home!'
'Back, Jack?' he said, laughing; 'why, I've never been.'
'Do you mean you haven't been to Scarborough?'
'No, of course not; you didn't think I would go without you, old boy. We'll go to-morrow, of course. I thought we settled that last night.'
'Why, I've been thinking of you in Scarborough all day!' I said.
'Then your thoughts have gone in a wrong direction for once, Jack,' he replied, 'for I've been here all the time.'
'I'll walk with you up the hill,' I said; 'it isn't quite dinner-time.'
I was very pleased to see him, and to find that he did not appear to be vexed with me. We chatted for some time, and then he said casually, 'He does not speak badly, that lay preacher of yours, Jack.'
I stood still in astonishment. 'Who?' I said, 'Mr. Christie? Why, you surely were not at the service, Tom! Oh, I know,' I cried, before he could answer, 'you were behind the bank; I saw a black and white cap, and I thought how much it was like yours.'
'It could not be much more like, seeing that it was the very same,' said Tom.
'I'm so glad you heard him,' I ventured to say.
He made no answer, so I thought it was better to say no more; but when we reached the top of the hill, and he was just leaving me, he said:
'Jack, I'm afraid I was a bit crusty last night. You must not think any more of it, old fellow. We'll have a jolly day at Scarborough to-morrow. And, Jack,' he went on, 'I was very much annoyed at the time, I own I was; but I'm not sure after all that you're not right.'
He said no more, but hurried away, and it was many years before he referred to the subject again; but the day came when he did mention it, and when he told me, with tears in his eyes, that he looked upon that Sunday at Runswick as the first link in the chain of God's loving Providence, by means of which He had led him to Himself. He told me then that he had never forgotten my firm refusal to go with him, and he had never forgotten the sermon to which he had listened hidden from sight by the bank.
Our day at Scarborough exceeded all our anticipations. The weather was glorious, and Tom was in excellent spirits, and we thoroughly enjoyed everything.
I could not help feeling sorry when Thursday came, which was to be my last day at Runswick Bay. It had been such a happy and so eventful a time. I seemed to have passed through so much, and to have learnt so much unknown to me before, that I felt very reluctant to bring my holiday to a close. As for Duncan and Polly, they were quite melancholy as the time for my departure drew near.
'Weshallfeel lost without you, sir,' said Duncan. 'We shan't know what to do'; and there were tears in Polly's eyes as she said mournfully, when she set the herrings on the table for my supper, 'Them's the last herrings I shall fry you, sir, and I feel as if there was going to be a death in the house.'
'Cheer up, Polly,' I said, 'who knows? Perhaps you may have to put up with me next time I get a holiday, and you may be sure I shall want plenty of herrings then.'
She brightened a little at this, and little John, who was quite well now, and who had become very friendly with me since his illness, climbed up on my knee, and stroked my face with his little thin hand, as if he were trying to coax me to come back to them again.
There was one thing which I had a great desire to do before leaving Runswick. I knew that Duncan was much troubled about the Mary Ann. She had been terribly knocked about in the storm, which was no wonder, seeing that she had drifted about, bottom upwards, and had been driven hither and thither on the waves. When Duncan had examined her the day after his arrival, he had found that she leaked in several places, and was altogether unseaworthy, and he had been obliged to hire a boat until such time as the Mary Ann could be properly repaired. Then he went over to Whitby, and brought an experienced man back with him, and he overhauled her thoroughly, and gave it as his opinion that it would be a waste of money to try to patch her up.
When Duncan came in that night I saw that the poor fellow was terribly downcast. 'The Mary Ann's days are numbered, sir; she'll never be able to rough it again,' he said. 'She's been a good old boat to me and my father before me, and it will be like parting from an old friend to give her up. Yon man, he says she might be cobbled together a bit; but you would never make a good job of her; she'd do maybe well enough for fine weather, but you couldn't trust to her in a storm.'
I saw Polly turn pale as he said this. 'Duncan,' she said, going up to him, and laying her hand on his arm, 'you'll never go in her again; promise me that. Think of me and little John, Duncan.'
'Ay, my lass,' he said; 'ay, Polly, I do think of thee and little John; but the worst of it is there's bread must be earnt for thee and little John. I can't let thee starve, wife.'
'What about the bank-book, Duncan?' I said.
He went to the old oak-chest, and brought it out. I was much touched by his handing it to me, and bidding me see how it stood. He was perfectly open with me, and spoke to me as freely as if I had been an old and tried friend. I added up the amount and read it out to him.
'Well, sir,'he said, 'it's getting on; but it's a good ten pound short yet. We shall have to hire Brown's boat a bit and do as well as we can, though it isn't a very paying business when one takes to hiring: it will be hard enough to make two ends meet, you see, sir, let alone saving up for the new boat. But I can't see nothing else for it, sir; that is, if Polly won't let me risk it in the Mary Ann.'
'Duncan,' she said solemnly, 'if thee went to sea in the Mary Ann, and she went to the bottom, I couldneversay, "The will of the Lord be done," for I don't believe itwouldbe God's will for thee to go in that rotten old thing.'
'Polly is right, Duncan,' I said; 'you must never go in the Mary Ann again.'
'Well, sir,' he said, 'I see what you mean, you and Polly too, and the Lord will show us what's to be done.'
Nothing more was said about the Mary Ann at that time, but I had already made my own plan about the new boat. My aunt had just left me her little property, and a very nice little property it was. I felt myself a rich man, for in addition to money invested in various ways, about £200 of ready money had been placed to my account at the bank.
What could be more delightful, I thought, than to spend the first ten pounds of this in helping Duncan to complete the purchase of the new boat? The only difficulty would be to get Duncan to accept the money, for he had all the honest independence of a Yorkshireman, and I knew would hesitate about receiving help from any one. But, at the same time, I knew that in this instance his need was great, and his kindly feeling towards myself was so strong, that I was not without hope that I might be able to manage what I had contemplated without giving the dear fellow offence. I thought, at one time, that I would take Mr. Christie into my confidence, and would consult with him, but on second thoughts I decided that it would be wiser not to do so, and felt that I should be more likely to succeed if no one else was in the secret. So I folded my bank-note in paper, put it into an envelope, and wrote outside, 'With little John's love to his daddy, to help him to buy another Little John.' This I determined to slip into the child's hand when I said good-bye.
That evening I had supper with the Christies. They were kindness itself, and told me what a great pleasure it had been to them to meet me. 'Not only because you are your mother's son, Jack, but for your own sake as well as hers,' said Mr. Christie with a smile.
I wanted to say something in return, but the words would not come—at least not then. But, just before I left, I went with Mr. Christie into his study, and he said, 'Jack, I thought perhaps we might have a little prayer together before we part'; and then the words came,—
'Mr. Christie,' I said, 'I can never, never thank God enough that I came here.'
'Let us thank Him together, Jack,' he said.
Then we knelt down, he by the table, and I with my arms resting on the old organ, and he thanked God for His mercy in bringing me across the line, and he committed me to His care and keeping to bring me safely along the road which leads home.
The next morning I was up early, for our train started at eight, and we had two miles to walk. I had told Polly I should want nothing but a cup of tea before I set off, but when I came down I found a most tempting breakfast prepared for me—ham and eggs, and toast in abundance, and fresh lettuces from Duncan's small garden.
'Well, Polly,' I said, 'you are spoiling me to the last.'
'We can never make enough of you, sir,' said Polly, and there were tears in her eyes as she said it.
I ran up to pack my bag and collect my things, and I determined to start in good time, so that I might allow myself a few minutes to say good-bye to the Christies.
'I must be off, Duncan,' I said.
He was standing outside with little John in his arms, and Polly, with her hat on, was standing beside him.
'We're coming along with you, sir, to the station,' said Duncan. 'You won't think it a liberty will you, sir? but me and Polly and little John would like to see the last of you.'
'Come, thatisgood of you,' I said. 'I shall have a grand escort up the hill!'
Polly took the child from his father, and Duncan carried my bag and easel, and would not even hear of my giving him a hand with them.
I ran into the Christies, but could find no one below; however, I heard a great running backwards and forwards overhead, and presently Mr. Christie called out of the bedroom window, 'Wait one moment, Jack; we are all coming to see you off.'
So my escort increased as I proceeded, and Tom, as he came out of the hotel, said he thought the whole of Runswick must be going by the early train, when he saw us, one after another, come toiling up the hill. Little Jack rode up the whole way on my back, and his horse was very hot when the top was reached.
Though it is now so many years ago I can see that little party of friends standing together on the platform, as the train moved out of the station. I can feel again the warm grasp of Mr. Christie's hand, and can hear his whispered, 'God bless you, Jack!' I can see Mrs. Christie holding Marjorie by the hand, and waving her handkerchief to me, and can hear little Jack crying out, 'Come back soon, do, big Mr. Jack.' I can see Duncan bareheaded, with little John in his arms, the child waving the envelope which I had put in his hand as I stepped into the carriage, and which was still unopened. I can see Polly wiping her eyes with her apron, and then holding it up and waving it till I was lost to sight. I can see them all as they appeared to me that day, kind hearts and true, not one of them ranking amongst the number whom the world counts great, and yet all of them well known to Him who calleth His own sheep by name and leadeth them out.
I must just mention here that I had a very touching letter from Duncan at the end of that week. The spelling was most wonderful, and the grammar was quite of his own making; but it was full, from end to end, of the most simple-hearted affection, and of the deepest gratitude.
'Me, and my missus, and little John, can never be thankful enough, sir,' he said, 'and when the other 'Little John' is afloat, as please God she soon will be, we hopes as how you will come and have a sail in her.'
So ended my visit to Runswick; and when I consider all that happened during those few weeks, I think it is small wonder that the little bay is still fresh in my memory, and that Ella's yellow ragwort made me dream of it so distinctly. For surely that month was the most important month in my life, for was it not the beginning of a new life, which, thank God, has continued ever since?
I can say to-day, even as I said then, 'One is my Master, even Christ,' and I can look forward, humbly but hopefully, to the time when the golden gates will open to me, and when the Master's promise will be fulfilled to me, 'Where I am, there shall also My servant be.'
O Jesus Christ, my Master,I come to Thee to-day;I ask Thee to direct meIn all I do or say:I want to keep my promiseTo be Thy servant true,I come to Thee for orders;Dear Lord, what shall I do?I want a heart not heedingWhat others think or say;I want a humble spirit,To listen and obey.To serve Thee without ceasing,'Tis but a little while,—My strength, the Master's promise,My joy, the Master's smile.A.C.W.