OLD UNCLE TOMMYFROM THE CHRISTIAN REGISTER.“Let him, where and when he will, sit downBeneath the trees, or by the grassy bankOf highway-side, and with the little birdsShare his chance-gathered meal; and finally,As in the eye of Nature he has lived,So in the eye of Nature let him die.”Wordsworth.TThemorning after the storm was calm and beautiful; just one of those days so dear to every lover of Nature; for every true worshipper of our all-bountiful Mother is a poet at heart, though his lips may often fail to utter the rich experience of his soul. The air was full of fragrance and the songs of birds. Here and there a gentle breeze would shower down the drops of moisture from the trees, forming a mimic rain; every bush and shrub, and each separate blade of grass, glittered in the morning sunlight, as if hung with brightest jewels. The stillness was in harmony with theday of rest, and only the most peaceful thoughts were suggested by this glorious calm, returning after the tempest.The late proprietor of the Leigh Manor had presented a small, though very perfect, chime of bells to Leighton Church; they had never been successfully played until now, when the ringers, having become more skilful, they for the first time pealed a regular chant; and right merrily did the sound go forth over the quiet plain.To God the mighty Lord,Your joyful songs repeat;To Him your praise accord,As good as He is great.“Ah,” said an old man, leaning on his staff, and gazing at the bells, “how I wish the Masther could a’ heard ye! Well, p’r’aps hedoeshear the bonny bells a-praising God. God bless thee, dear Masther, and have thee forever in his holy keeping!” and raising his hat reverently from his head, the old man stood with the white hair streaming back upon his shoulders, leaving unshaded his upturned countenance, where were visible the traces of many a conflict and of many a hard-earned victory; thetracesonly, for time and living faith had smoothed the deeper marks. As in Nature this morning you saw therehad beenstorm and fierce strife; but now all was at peace. The clear blue eye of the aged man shone with a brighter light than youth alone can give. It was the undyinglight of immortality; for, old and poor and ignorant as he was, to worldly eyes, his soul had attained a noble stature; and as he stood there with uncovered head, in the June sunshine, there was a majesty about him which no mere earthly rank can impart. You saw before you a child of the Great Father; youfeltthat he communed in spirit with his God, as with a dear and loving parent; that the Most High was very nigh unto him. And yet this man dwelt amongst the paupers of a country almshouse, and men called him insane! But he was “harmless,” they said; so he was allowed to come and go about the neighborhood, as he pleased, and no one feared him.The little children, as they passed to Sunday School this morning, stepped more lightly, lest they should disturb him; for he was a favorite with the “little people,” as he called them.When beyond his hearing, they whispered to one another, “I don’t believe Uncle Tommy is crazy, do you? I never want to plague him; he’s so kind.”“He isn’t a mite like laughing Davy,” said another; “for Davy is real mischievous sometimes, and Uncle Tommy isn’t a bit; what do you s’pose folks call him crazy for?”“I’m sure I don’t know,” whispered a third, “for he knowsever so much. I guess it’s ’cause heseemsas he does now; and nobody else ever does, do they? That’s what folks laugh at.”“Well, it’s too bad,” exclaimed a rosy little girl of nine or ten summers. “I mean to go speak to him. That’ll wake him up. He’s always so good to us, Ihateto have folks look queer at him, and make fun of his ways.”“Why, Nelly, he don’t care for the laughing.”“No matter; I do,” stoutly maintained the child; and going up to the old man, she softly pulled his clean, patched sleeve, and said, “Uncle Tommy, if you please, do look here!”He did not seem to hear her for a little while; then passing his hand across his forehead, as if rousing himself, he turned, with a pleasant, cheering manner, to the children, who had gathered around him: “Ah! little Nelly, is it you? and all my little people? why you’re out early this good morning. May the blessing of Our Father shine through your young hearts, making beautiful your lives, as the sunshine makes beautiful your fresh young faces!”“Uncle Tommy,” said John Anton, “what makes you love the sun so like everything?”Old Tommy smiled at the boy’s eagerness; but looking upward, he answered: “I love it as the first, brightest gift of Our Father. I see in it the purest emblem of Him whose dwellingisthe light.” After a moment’s silence, he extended his hands over the children’s heads, saying fervently, “Pour thy light into their souls, O Father, that, the eyes of the mind being opened, they may see Thee inall thy works!” Then taking Nelly by the hand, he asked, if they were not too soon for school.“Yes,” answered she; “for we came to hear the bells chime. It’s so pleasant, Uncle Tommy, perhaps you will tell us something. Just a little while, till the teachers come.”“O yes, do now, Uncle Tommy, tell us some of the nice stories you know,” chimed in the whole group.“I’ll be still as a mouse, if you will,” coaxed a lively child, whose ceaseless motion usually disturbed all quiet talk.Uncle Tommy patted her curly head, and good-naturedly consented to gratify them, “if they would try and be good as the flowers in the meadow yonder.”“Yes, yes, we will,” shouted they.“Now lean on me, and I’ll help you, Uncle Tommy,” said Nelly, who usually assumed the charge of him when she found an opportunity. So, with one hand resting upon her shoulder, and the other supported by his staff, the old man, who looked older now, as his hat shaded his face, moved feebly forward, surrounded by the happy children. They walked a few steps beyond the corner of the church, and soon came to a projection in one of the buttresses, that was often used by the people as a seat in summer; hither they carefully led Uncle Tommy, who could still enjoy his belovedsunshine, whilst he rested his weary limbs. It was a sight worthy of an artist’s pencil; the ancient stone church, the venerable man, the young children, the lofty trees, the birds, the shadows, the sunlight, and the graves.“Sha’n’t I take off your hat,” asked John, “so you can feel warm?” and away went the hat, to the mutual satisfaction of Uncle Tommy and the children; for they loved him, and liked to see his white hair in the bright sunbeams,—“looking exactly like the ‘Mary’s threads’ on the dewy grass, so silvery and shiny,” Nelly used to say.“What are you going to tell us?” urged the impatient little Janette, softly.He looked all around before speaking; up at the distant blue sky flooded with light; abroad upon the fields clothed in richest verdure; at the gently rustling elms; the oaks, the yews, and hemlocks in the quiet churchyard; the eager living group at his feet; all were seen in that one comprehensive glance. “It is my birthday, little people,” said he, at length, smilingly nodding to them.“Why Uncle Tommy,” cried the astonished children, in their simplicity, “do you have birthdays, like us? We thought you was too old!”“Yes, yes,” said he, shaking his head, “I’m very old, but I remember my birthdays still. It’s ninety years, this blessed day, since I came here a wee bit of a baby; and what a blessed Father has led me the long weary way!”“Shall you like to die, Uncle Tommy? Do you want to die?” asked Nelly.“Iwant, dear child, to live just as long as our Father pleases. I don’t feel impatient to go nor to stay; ’cause that a’n’t right, Nelly. I want to do exactly as God wills; but I sha’n’t feel sorry to go when the time comes; all Iwishabout it is, that the sun may shine likenowwhen I go home, and that I mayknowit.”Another little boy here joined the group. He was the youngest son of the Rector. He had only returned home the previous day to pass the summer vacation, after a six months’ absence. There was a little shyness at first between the children, which soon disappeared before the kindly influence of the old man, in whose eyes all human beings were recognized as the children of God. With him there were no rich and no poor.“Welcome home again, little Herman!” was his greeting, accompanied by a smile so genial, it went straight to the boy’s heart.“Thank you, Uncle Tommy,” said he, shaking hands, cordially. “I am right glad to be here, I can assure you; and very glad to see you in your old corner, looking so well. But what were you saying about ‘going home,’ when I interrupted you by coming up? Pray go on.”Before he could answer, Janette said, “It’s Uncle Tommy’s birthday, this is!”“Indeed! and how old is he?” asked Herman, looking at the old man for a reply.“Ninety years, thank God,” was the cheerful answer.“O what a long, long time to live!” slowly fell from Herman’s lips. He was a delicate boy, and thoughtful beyond his years, as is often the case with invalid children; and now he rested his pale, intelligent face upon his hand, with his eyes fixed on Uncle Tommy, and thought what a long, long time was ninety years! Then he looked upon the graves, and wondered whether any of those whose bodies were lying there knew what an old, old man was still seeing the sun shine so long after they were gone. There were little graves and large ones; Uncle Tommy knew almost all of them, and still he lived onall alone; andtheyhad some of them left families. He wondered on and on; his reverie was short, but crowded with perplexing thoughts.Uncle Tommy put an end to it, by saying, in answer to Herman’s words, “The time isonlylong, when I don’t mind our Father’s will. When I obey, as the sun, and the wind, and all about us in Nature does, then I’m as happy as a cretur can be; and time seems just right. But what I was a saying about going home was this; I a’n’t in a hurry to go, ’cause I’m here so long; nor am I wanting to stay; only just as God pleases. But when the timedoescome, I’ll be glad to go home, after my school time here is over. P’r’aps just as you feel now, Herman; and I hope when UncleTommy has gone, with the sunshine, out there, you little people will learn to love the fair works of God our Father, just ashedoes now. And don’t forget when you’re a going to be unkind or naughty, that you little ones, andallthe little children, andallthe grown people, are the fairest, noblest of God’s works. And if you think of Uncle Tommy, when you see the sun shine, and the pretty flowers and birds, and remember howheloved them, think of him when you are a going to strike one another, or do any naughty thing, and remember how often he has told you about the dear Jesus, who took little children in his arms and blessed them, and told all the people, great and small, to love God best, and then to love one another as they loved themselves. Now if you try to think of this, I don’t believe you’ll be naughty very often; and the fewer times you’re naughty, the happier you’ll be when you look round on this dear beautiful world.”“But, Uncle Tommy,” said Nelly, “we forget about being good sometimes, when we get cross, and everybody scolds at us ’cause we are so naughty; and that makes us act worse, ever so much; don’t it, Ann?” appealing to a girl about her own age.“Yes,” rejoined Ann, “nobody ever says anything about being good, in the way you do, Uncle Tommy; except in Sunday School, and in Church; and somehow it don’t seem just thesame as whenyoutalk. Oh, Uncle Tommy, I believe we should always be good children, if you could only be along with us all the time.”“So do I!” “And I!” was heard from the little circle.“Dear me!” cried Nelly, impatiently, “how I do wish we had a great big world, all our own, with nobody ugly to plague us; only just for Uncle Tommy and us to live in.Thenwe’d be good as could be. Don’t you wish so, dear Uncle Tommy?”“No, dear children, I wish for no better, or bigger world to live in, than this. Our Father put us here, and put it in our own power to be happy; that means, to be good; and if we don’t make out to do what He wants us to do here, I don’t believe we should find it half as easy in a world such as folks dream about. It’s a wrong notion, to my thinking, to s’pose we could behave better in some other place than in the one where our lot’s cast in life, or at some other time than the present time going over our heads. Remember this, dear little people, when you grow up, and don’t wish for anything it isn’t God’s will you should have. Try all you can to mind the Lord, who loves you so well; and if trouble and sorrow come to you, as they do to every human cretur, and you can be sure it’s not your own doing, then patiently trust in our Father, and remember what the dear bellssay:—‘For God doth proveOur constant friend;His boundless loveWill never end.’You’re little and young, and full of health now, so you don’t know what I mean, as you will by and by, when you grow older; but you canremember, if you can’t quite take it in, that I tell you, after trying it for a good many years, Iknowour happiness depends a deal more on ourselves than on other people; and it’s only when we’re lazy, and don’t want to stir ourselves, that we think other people have an easier time than we do. B’lieve me, dear children, everybody has the means of being happy or unhappy in theirhearts; and these they must take wherever they go; and these make their home and their world.”The bell for school began to ring, and the children sprang to their feet instantly, saying, “Good by, Uncle Tommy! It’s school-time now!” “Good by, little ones,” said he. “You go to one school, and I’ll go to another, among thedumbchildren of our Lord!”Nelly and Ann lingered after the others a moment. “Uncle Tommy,” said Ann, “wewilltry to do as you want us to, and remember what you say.”He laid his hands upon their heads, and, looking up to Heaven, said, “May the Spirit of the dear Lord be with ye, and guide your tender feet inthe narrow way of life! Bless them, Father, with thy loving presence through their unending life!”There was a moment’s pause; then Ann said earnestly, “I love dearly to have you bless me, Uncle Tommy”; and with a “Good by,” off she ran to school.Nelly stopped a moment. She had nestled close to the old man’s side without speaking, and now, throwing her arms around his neck with a real overflowing of her young heart, she kissed his cheek, and then darted off to join her companions in school. Uncle Tommy was surprised, for Nelly did not often express her affection by caresses, as most children do, but by kind deeds.The action, slight though it was, touched a long silent chord in the old man’s memory. The curtain veiling the past seemed withdrawn, and again he was a child. There was the path from the village across the church-yard, just as it was when first his mother had led him to church, a tiny thing clinging to her skirts. He was the youngest of seven, and the pet; O so long ago! He saw again before him his young brothers and sisters, full of healthful glee; then other forms of long-parted ones joined the procession of years; his sisters’ and brothers’ children; his own cherished wife and much-loved boys and girls: all gone, long, long years ago; and he alone, of all that numerous company, remained. “Thou, Father, hast ever been on my right hand and onmy left; very safely hast thou led me on through joy and sorrow unto this shining day; blessed be thy holy name!”So prayed the old man his last earthly thanksgiving. When the people were dispersing to their homes after service, one, seeing him sitting there in the sheltered nook, came to say “Good morning”; and receiving no answer, he touched his hand. It was cold. There he sat in the glorious sunshine, his old brown hat by his side, wreathed with fresh grass and flowers, as was his custom; but the freed spirit had gone to the Father he so lovingly worshipped.They made his grave in the sunniest part of the church-yard, where an opening in the trees afforded a lovely view of the village and the meadows, with the gentle flowing river, along whose peaceful banks the old man had loved to wander, gathering flowers and leaves and grasses, and throwing crumbs to the birds, who knew him too well to fly from him. Here they laid him, at the last, and, instead of monument or headstone, the children brought sweet flowering shrubs, and wild brier from the lanes or fields, to plant around his quiet grave.“Uncle Tommy is notthere,” said the children. “He has gone home. This is only his poorbody, here in the ground!” Thus did the influence of his bright, ever-young spirit remain with the “little people” long after Uncle Tommy had ceased to talk with them.
OLD UNCLE TOMMYFROM THE CHRISTIAN REGISTER.
“Let him, where and when he will, sit downBeneath the trees, or by the grassy bankOf highway-side, and with the little birdsShare his chance-gathered meal; and finally,As in the eye of Nature he has lived,So in the eye of Nature let him die.”Wordsworth.
“Let him, where and when he will, sit downBeneath the trees, or by the grassy bankOf highway-side, and with the little birdsShare his chance-gathered meal; and finally,As in the eye of Nature he has lived,So in the eye of Nature let him die.”Wordsworth.
“Let him, where and when he will, sit downBeneath the trees, or by the grassy bankOf highway-side, and with the little birdsShare his chance-gathered meal; and finally,As in the eye of Nature he has lived,So in the eye of Nature let him die.”
“Let him, where and when he will, sit down
Beneath the trees, or by the grassy bank
Of highway-side, and with the little birds
Share his chance-gathered meal; and finally,
As in the eye of Nature he has lived,
So in the eye of Nature let him die.”
Wordsworth.
Themorning after the storm was calm and beautiful; just one of those days so dear to every lover of Nature; for every true worshipper of our all-bountiful Mother is a poet at heart, though his lips may often fail to utter the rich experience of his soul. The air was full of fragrance and the songs of birds. Here and there a gentle breeze would shower down the drops of moisture from the trees, forming a mimic rain; every bush and shrub, and each separate blade of grass, glittered in the morning sunlight, as if hung with brightest jewels. The stillness was in harmony with theday of rest, and only the most peaceful thoughts were suggested by this glorious calm, returning after the tempest.
The late proprietor of the Leigh Manor had presented a small, though very perfect, chime of bells to Leighton Church; they had never been successfully played until now, when the ringers, having become more skilful, they for the first time pealed a regular chant; and right merrily did the sound go forth over the quiet plain.
To God the mighty Lord,Your joyful songs repeat;To Him your praise accord,As good as He is great.
To God the mighty Lord,Your joyful songs repeat;To Him your praise accord,As good as He is great.
To God the mighty Lord,Your joyful songs repeat;To Him your praise accord,As good as He is great.
To God the mighty Lord,
Your joyful songs repeat;
To Him your praise accord,
As good as He is great.
“Ah,” said an old man, leaning on his staff, and gazing at the bells, “how I wish the Masther could a’ heard ye! Well, p’r’aps hedoeshear the bonny bells a-praising God. God bless thee, dear Masther, and have thee forever in his holy keeping!” and raising his hat reverently from his head, the old man stood with the white hair streaming back upon his shoulders, leaving unshaded his upturned countenance, where were visible the traces of many a conflict and of many a hard-earned victory; thetracesonly, for time and living faith had smoothed the deeper marks. As in Nature this morning you saw therehad beenstorm and fierce strife; but now all was at peace. The clear blue eye of the aged man shone with a brighter light than youth alone can give. It was the undyinglight of immortality; for, old and poor and ignorant as he was, to worldly eyes, his soul had attained a noble stature; and as he stood there with uncovered head, in the June sunshine, there was a majesty about him which no mere earthly rank can impart. You saw before you a child of the Great Father; youfeltthat he communed in spirit with his God, as with a dear and loving parent; that the Most High was very nigh unto him. And yet this man dwelt amongst the paupers of a country almshouse, and men called him insane! But he was “harmless,” they said; so he was allowed to come and go about the neighborhood, as he pleased, and no one feared him.
The little children, as they passed to Sunday School this morning, stepped more lightly, lest they should disturb him; for he was a favorite with the “little people,” as he called them.
When beyond his hearing, they whispered to one another, “I don’t believe Uncle Tommy is crazy, do you? I never want to plague him; he’s so kind.”
“He isn’t a mite like laughing Davy,” said another; “for Davy is real mischievous sometimes, and Uncle Tommy isn’t a bit; what do you s’pose folks call him crazy for?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” whispered a third, “for he knowsever so much. I guess it’s ’cause heseemsas he does now; and nobody else ever does, do they? That’s what folks laugh at.”
“Well, it’s too bad,” exclaimed a rosy little girl of nine or ten summers. “I mean to go speak to him. That’ll wake him up. He’s always so good to us, Ihateto have folks look queer at him, and make fun of his ways.”
“Why, Nelly, he don’t care for the laughing.”
“No matter; I do,” stoutly maintained the child; and going up to the old man, she softly pulled his clean, patched sleeve, and said, “Uncle Tommy, if you please, do look here!”
He did not seem to hear her for a little while; then passing his hand across his forehead, as if rousing himself, he turned, with a pleasant, cheering manner, to the children, who had gathered around him: “Ah! little Nelly, is it you? and all my little people? why you’re out early this good morning. May the blessing of Our Father shine through your young hearts, making beautiful your lives, as the sunshine makes beautiful your fresh young faces!”
“Uncle Tommy,” said John Anton, “what makes you love the sun so like everything?”
Old Tommy smiled at the boy’s eagerness; but looking upward, he answered: “I love it as the first, brightest gift of Our Father. I see in it the purest emblem of Him whose dwellingisthe light.” After a moment’s silence, he extended his hands over the children’s heads, saying fervently, “Pour thy light into their souls, O Father, that, the eyes of the mind being opened, they may see Thee inall thy works!” Then taking Nelly by the hand, he asked, if they were not too soon for school.
“Yes,” answered she; “for we came to hear the bells chime. It’s so pleasant, Uncle Tommy, perhaps you will tell us something. Just a little while, till the teachers come.”
“O yes, do now, Uncle Tommy, tell us some of the nice stories you know,” chimed in the whole group.
“I’ll be still as a mouse, if you will,” coaxed a lively child, whose ceaseless motion usually disturbed all quiet talk.
Uncle Tommy patted her curly head, and good-naturedly consented to gratify them, “if they would try and be good as the flowers in the meadow yonder.”
“Yes, yes, we will,” shouted they.
“Now lean on me, and I’ll help you, Uncle Tommy,” said Nelly, who usually assumed the charge of him when she found an opportunity. So, with one hand resting upon her shoulder, and the other supported by his staff, the old man, who looked older now, as his hat shaded his face, moved feebly forward, surrounded by the happy children. They walked a few steps beyond the corner of the church, and soon came to a projection in one of the buttresses, that was often used by the people as a seat in summer; hither they carefully led Uncle Tommy, who could still enjoy his belovedsunshine, whilst he rested his weary limbs. It was a sight worthy of an artist’s pencil; the ancient stone church, the venerable man, the young children, the lofty trees, the birds, the shadows, the sunlight, and the graves.
“Sha’n’t I take off your hat,” asked John, “so you can feel warm?” and away went the hat, to the mutual satisfaction of Uncle Tommy and the children; for they loved him, and liked to see his white hair in the bright sunbeams,—“looking exactly like the ‘Mary’s threads’ on the dewy grass, so silvery and shiny,” Nelly used to say.
“What are you going to tell us?” urged the impatient little Janette, softly.
He looked all around before speaking; up at the distant blue sky flooded with light; abroad upon the fields clothed in richest verdure; at the gently rustling elms; the oaks, the yews, and hemlocks in the quiet churchyard; the eager living group at his feet; all were seen in that one comprehensive glance. “It is my birthday, little people,” said he, at length, smilingly nodding to them.
“Why Uncle Tommy,” cried the astonished children, in their simplicity, “do you have birthdays, like us? We thought you was too old!”
“Yes, yes,” said he, shaking his head, “I’m very old, but I remember my birthdays still. It’s ninety years, this blessed day, since I came here a wee bit of a baby; and what a blessed Father has led me the long weary way!”
“Shall you like to die, Uncle Tommy? Do you want to die?” asked Nelly.
“Iwant, dear child, to live just as long as our Father pleases. I don’t feel impatient to go nor to stay; ’cause that a’n’t right, Nelly. I want to do exactly as God wills; but I sha’n’t feel sorry to go when the time comes; all Iwishabout it is, that the sun may shine likenowwhen I go home, and that I mayknowit.”
Another little boy here joined the group. He was the youngest son of the Rector. He had only returned home the previous day to pass the summer vacation, after a six months’ absence. There was a little shyness at first between the children, which soon disappeared before the kindly influence of the old man, in whose eyes all human beings were recognized as the children of God. With him there were no rich and no poor.
“Welcome home again, little Herman!” was his greeting, accompanied by a smile so genial, it went straight to the boy’s heart.
“Thank you, Uncle Tommy,” said he, shaking hands, cordially. “I am right glad to be here, I can assure you; and very glad to see you in your old corner, looking so well. But what were you saying about ‘going home,’ when I interrupted you by coming up? Pray go on.”
Before he could answer, Janette said, “It’s Uncle Tommy’s birthday, this is!”
“Indeed! and how old is he?” asked Herman, looking at the old man for a reply.
“Ninety years, thank God,” was the cheerful answer.
“O what a long, long time to live!” slowly fell from Herman’s lips. He was a delicate boy, and thoughtful beyond his years, as is often the case with invalid children; and now he rested his pale, intelligent face upon his hand, with his eyes fixed on Uncle Tommy, and thought what a long, long time was ninety years! Then he looked upon the graves, and wondered whether any of those whose bodies were lying there knew what an old, old man was still seeing the sun shine so long after they were gone. There were little graves and large ones; Uncle Tommy knew almost all of them, and still he lived onall alone; andtheyhad some of them left families. He wondered on and on; his reverie was short, but crowded with perplexing thoughts.
Uncle Tommy put an end to it, by saying, in answer to Herman’s words, “The time isonlylong, when I don’t mind our Father’s will. When I obey, as the sun, and the wind, and all about us in Nature does, then I’m as happy as a cretur can be; and time seems just right. But what I was a saying about going home was this; I a’n’t in a hurry to go, ’cause I’m here so long; nor am I wanting to stay; only just as God pleases. But when the timedoescome, I’ll be glad to go home, after my school time here is over. P’r’aps just as you feel now, Herman; and I hope when UncleTommy has gone, with the sunshine, out there, you little people will learn to love the fair works of God our Father, just ashedoes now. And don’t forget when you’re a going to be unkind or naughty, that you little ones, andallthe little children, andallthe grown people, are the fairest, noblest of God’s works. And if you think of Uncle Tommy, when you see the sun shine, and the pretty flowers and birds, and remember howheloved them, think of him when you are a going to strike one another, or do any naughty thing, and remember how often he has told you about the dear Jesus, who took little children in his arms and blessed them, and told all the people, great and small, to love God best, and then to love one another as they loved themselves. Now if you try to think of this, I don’t believe you’ll be naughty very often; and the fewer times you’re naughty, the happier you’ll be when you look round on this dear beautiful world.”
“But, Uncle Tommy,” said Nelly, “we forget about being good sometimes, when we get cross, and everybody scolds at us ’cause we are so naughty; and that makes us act worse, ever so much; don’t it, Ann?” appealing to a girl about her own age.
“Yes,” rejoined Ann, “nobody ever says anything about being good, in the way you do, Uncle Tommy; except in Sunday School, and in Church; and somehow it don’t seem just thesame as whenyoutalk. Oh, Uncle Tommy, I believe we should always be good children, if you could only be along with us all the time.”
“So do I!” “And I!” was heard from the little circle.
“Dear me!” cried Nelly, impatiently, “how I do wish we had a great big world, all our own, with nobody ugly to plague us; only just for Uncle Tommy and us to live in.Thenwe’d be good as could be. Don’t you wish so, dear Uncle Tommy?”
“No, dear children, I wish for no better, or bigger world to live in, than this. Our Father put us here, and put it in our own power to be happy; that means, to be good; and if we don’t make out to do what He wants us to do here, I don’t believe we should find it half as easy in a world such as folks dream about. It’s a wrong notion, to my thinking, to s’pose we could behave better in some other place than in the one where our lot’s cast in life, or at some other time than the present time going over our heads. Remember this, dear little people, when you grow up, and don’t wish for anything it isn’t God’s will you should have. Try all you can to mind the Lord, who loves you so well; and if trouble and sorrow come to you, as they do to every human cretur, and you can be sure it’s not your own doing, then patiently trust in our Father, and remember what the dear bellssay:—
‘For God doth proveOur constant friend;His boundless loveWill never end.’
‘For God doth proveOur constant friend;His boundless loveWill never end.’
‘For God doth proveOur constant friend;His boundless loveWill never end.’
‘For God doth prove
Our constant friend;
His boundless love
Will never end.’
You’re little and young, and full of health now, so you don’t know what I mean, as you will by and by, when you grow older; but you canremember, if you can’t quite take it in, that I tell you, after trying it for a good many years, Iknowour happiness depends a deal more on ourselves than on other people; and it’s only when we’re lazy, and don’t want to stir ourselves, that we think other people have an easier time than we do. B’lieve me, dear children, everybody has the means of being happy or unhappy in theirhearts; and these they must take wherever they go; and these make their home and their world.”
The bell for school began to ring, and the children sprang to their feet instantly, saying, “Good by, Uncle Tommy! It’s school-time now!” “Good by, little ones,” said he. “You go to one school, and I’ll go to another, among thedumbchildren of our Lord!”
Nelly and Ann lingered after the others a moment. “Uncle Tommy,” said Ann, “wewilltry to do as you want us to, and remember what you say.”
He laid his hands upon their heads, and, looking up to Heaven, said, “May the Spirit of the dear Lord be with ye, and guide your tender feet inthe narrow way of life! Bless them, Father, with thy loving presence through their unending life!”
There was a moment’s pause; then Ann said earnestly, “I love dearly to have you bless me, Uncle Tommy”; and with a “Good by,” off she ran to school.
Nelly stopped a moment. She had nestled close to the old man’s side without speaking, and now, throwing her arms around his neck with a real overflowing of her young heart, she kissed his cheek, and then darted off to join her companions in school. Uncle Tommy was surprised, for Nelly did not often express her affection by caresses, as most children do, but by kind deeds.
The action, slight though it was, touched a long silent chord in the old man’s memory. The curtain veiling the past seemed withdrawn, and again he was a child. There was the path from the village across the church-yard, just as it was when first his mother had led him to church, a tiny thing clinging to her skirts. He was the youngest of seven, and the pet; O so long ago! He saw again before him his young brothers and sisters, full of healthful glee; then other forms of long-parted ones joined the procession of years; his sisters’ and brothers’ children; his own cherished wife and much-loved boys and girls: all gone, long, long years ago; and he alone, of all that numerous company, remained. “Thou, Father, hast ever been on my right hand and onmy left; very safely hast thou led me on through joy and sorrow unto this shining day; blessed be thy holy name!”
So prayed the old man his last earthly thanksgiving. When the people were dispersing to their homes after service, one, seeing him sitting there in the sheltered nook, came to say “Good morning”; and receiving no answer, he touched his hand. It was cold. There he sat in the glorious sunshine, his old brown hat by his side, wreathed with fresh grass and flowers, as was his custom; but the freed spirit had gone to the Father he so lovingly worshipped.
They made his grave in the sunniest part of the church-yard, where an opening in the trees afforded a lovely view of the village and the meadows, with the gentle flowing river, along whose peaceful banks the old man had loved to wander, gathering flowers and leaves and grasses, and throwing crumbs to the birds, who knew him too well to fly from him. Here they laid him, at the last, and, instead of monument or headstone, the children brought sweet flowering shrubs, and wild brier from the lanes or fields, to plant around his quiet grave.
“Uncle Tommy is notthere,” said the children. “He has gone home. This is only his poorbody, here in the ground!” Thus did the influence of his bright, ever-young spirit remain with the “little people” long after Uncle Tommy had ceased to talk with them.