A London Baby: The Story of King Roy. Meade L. T.

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СКАЧАТЬ that the great fact of his having received the blessing of Jesus would make up to him for the loss of his mother.

      “But wot’s the use,” continued Faith very sadly to herself, “when Jesus be dead years ago?”

      At this juncture in the little girl’s thoughts, the room-door was opened, and a neighbour, who had often been kind to both the children, came in. She had come to borrow a saucepan, and was in a hurry; but seeing the tears on Faith’s cheeks, she stopped to inquire the cause.

      “There be nothink wrong wid the little ’un, I ’ope, Faith,” she said.

      “Oh, no,” answered Faith. “Roy’s well enough. ’Tis only as I’m so sorry as Jesus is dead.”

      Mrs Mason, the neighbour, stepped back a pace or so in some astonishment.

      “Bless us and save us!” she exclaimed. “Wot a queer child! But it ain’t true, Faith, fur Jesus ain’t dead. He’s as alive as possible!”

      “Do the Bible say that?” asked Faith.

      “Yes, the Bible says it h’over and h’over.”

      “And could I go to him, and take Roy? Could I, Mrs Mason?”

      “Bless us, child, you’re a queer ’un; but the Bible sartin’ do say as He’ll receive all as come to Him. Yes, in course you can go; but I can’t tell you the exact way. There, Faith, child, why don’t you go to Sunday-school, same as the other little lads and lasses about? They teach everythink about coming to Jesus in Sunday-school.”

      “I wish with h’all my heart I could go,” answered Faith.

      “Well, child, I see nothink agen it. There’s one jest round the corner, and the bell’s a-ringing now; but there, I can’t stay another moment.”

      Mrs Mason hurried away, and Faith still sat still; but a devouring wish was now possessing her. If she only could just once go to Sunday-school and hear about Jesus, and learn that He was really alive, and that she could take Roy to Him! Oh! if only it were possible that Roy might receive this great and wonderful blessing, why it would be worth even her father’s great anger, should he learn that she had disobeyed him. Faith trembled and hesitated, and finally rose to her feet. If only Roy would awake, she could take him with her. But no; Roy was very tired and very sound asleep. By the time little Roy awoke, Sunday-school would be over, and she would have lost all hope of hearing of Jesus for another week.

      Suppose she left Roy just for once – just for the first and last time in all her life – she would only be an hour away, and in that hour what possible harm could happen to the little child? and she would learn so much, oh! so much, which could help him by-and-by.

      Yes; she thought she might venture. She would have returned long before her father came back, most likely long before Roy awoke. It was worth the little risk for the sake of the great gain. She placed the fireguard carefully before the fire, kissed her little brother, and with a beating heart slipped out.

      No; there was no possible fear for little Roy.

      Chapter Four

      Before Faith had been gone quite half an hour her father returned. This was an unusual proceeding, for generally he spent his Sunday afternoons in a working men’s club round the corner. He was one of the most influential members of this club – its most active and stirring representative. He organised meetings, got up debates, and did, in short, those thousand and one things which an energetic, clever man can do to put fire and life into such proceedings. He had come home now to draw up the minutes of a new organisation which he and a few other kindred spirits were about to form.

      It was to be a society in every way based on the laws of justice and reason. Religious, and yet allowing all harmless and innocent amusements both for Sundays and weekdays; temperate, but permitting the use of beer and wine in moderation.

      Warden felt very virtuous and very useful as he sat down with pen and paper before him. No one could say of him that he spent his time for nought. How blameless and good and excellent was his life! Never, never would it be necessary for those lips to cry to his Maker, “God be merciful to me a sinner!”

      A little restless movement, and faint, satisfied baby sigh from the sofa, interrupted these self-satisfied meditations. He looked round and saw little Roy. “Bless us! is the child there? and wherever is Faith?” he said to himself.

      He got up and approached his little boy. The child was looking as beautiful as such a lovely creature would look in his sleep. Warden went on his knees to watch him more earnestly. Yes; the golden-brown eyelashes, the tangled mass of bright hair, the full pouting lips, the rounded limbs, made up a picture which might well cause any father’s heart to beat with love and pride; and doubtless there was much of both in Warden’s soul just then. He gazed long and earnestly. Before he rose to his feet he even bent and kissed the little flushed cheek.

      “Yes,” he said to himself; “he’s a very, very lovely boy. If ever a man had cause for ambition I have. With God’s help, that boy shall take his place with any gentleman in the land before I die.”

      He sat down again by his table, but instead of continuing his work he remained for a time, one hand partly shading his eyes, while he indulged in a meditation. Yes; he must save as much money as possible; for Roy’s education must begin early. Roy must have this, Roy must have that. He did not think of Faith at all. Faith was but a girl. He began to consider by what means he could add to his earnings, by what means he could retrench his present expenses. The rooms they now lived in were comfortable, but far from cheap. Ought they not to go into poorer lodgings? for now they spent all he earned, and where, if that was so, would be the money to put little Roy to school by-and-by?

      In the midst of these thoughts, the door was pushed softly open, and a man’s face appeared. It just appeared above the frame of the door, and looked in with timid, bloodshot eyes.

      “I cannot assist you, Peter Davis,” called out Warden in his full, loud tones. “There’s no manner of use in your waiting here. You know my opinion of such conduct as yours.”

      “Yes; but I means to reform – I do indeed,” replied Davis. He had so far gathered courage now as to advance a step or two into the room. “’Tis h’all so ’ard on a feller. When he’s down h’every one throws a stone at him. I’m h’ever so sorry fur givin’ way to the drink, and I’m goin’ to take the pledge – I am indeed.”

      “It is disgusting, any man drinking himself into the condition of a beast – lower, far lower than a beast,” answered Warden, in his most bitter tones. “There now, Davis, you know my opinion. I am pleased, however, to hear you mean to change your ways.”

      “Yes, indeed, indeed I do – Mr – Mr Warden; and wot I made bold to come yere fur were to axe ef you’d may be help me. I don’t mean fur myself, but fur the poor wife. The wife, her ’ad a little ’un last night, and we h’an’t never a sup nor a bite in the house. I thought, may be, Mr – Mr Warden, as seeing we belonged to the werry same club, as you’d may be let me have the loan of five shillings, or even harf-a-crown, jest one harf-crown, and returned most faithful, Mr Warden.”

      Warden laughed loudly.

      “No; not a shilling, nor a sixpence,” he said. “I never encourage drunkards; and as to your belonging to our club, you won’t have that to say long unless you mend yer ways.”

      “But ’tis fur the wife,” continued Davis. “The wife, as honest a body as h’ever breathed, and СКАЧАТЬ