The Project Gutenberg eBook of Jasper's old shed, by A. M. Coker

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
using this eBook.

Title: Jasper's old shed
       And how the light shone in

Author: A. M. Coker

Release Date: June 23, 2023 [eBook #71029]

Language: English

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JASPER'S OLD SHED ***

Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.

[Illustration: "PLEASE, MR. JASPER, I'VE COME FOR OUR GOODS."]



                           JASPER'S
                           OLD SHED

                             AND
                   HOW THE LIGHT SHONE IN



                              BY
                         A. M. COKER

               Author of "Crookside Lads," etc.



                            LONDON
                 THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY
        4 Bouverie Street & 65 St. Paul's Churchyard



CONTENTS

CHAPTER

   I. THE SHED AND ITS MASTER

  II. LOOKING BACK

 III. A NEW DISCOVERY

  IV. TROUBLED THOUGHTS

   V. LESSONS FROM RAGS

  VI. PHIL GETS A START

 VII. THE CHRISTMAS MESSAGE

VIII. THE SUDDEN CALL

  IX. JASPER'S PROMISE

   X. JASPER'S TROUBLE

  XI. THE HOME CALL

 XII. BRIGHTER DAYS



JASPER'S OLD SHED

CHAPTER I.

THE SHED AND ITS MASTER.

"JONAS JASPER, general and marine store-dealer. Best prices given, no
reasonable offer refused. N.B.—Families waited upon." * Such was the
sign-board that for more than forty years had swung over the entry
to that old shed in Preece's Place where Jonas Jasper carried on his
business. Everybody knew him, and his shop too; for he was by far the
oldest inhabitant, not only of the street, but of the neighbourhood,
which comprised all the poorest and lowest part of the town of
Helmstone, a well-known and much-frequented watering-place on the south
coast.

  * N.B.—nota bene

It required some little courage to penetrate into the dismal and dirty
shed afore-mentioned; but Jasper was generally to be found somewhere
near the entry, behind one of those three old barrels that had stood
there ever since he began business. It was an understood fact now that
the barrels were not for sale.

"Why, I should be quite lost without 'em," he used to say; "they be
very handy for my old back to lean against, and when I'm tired of
sitting by one, why, I've got two more to choose from." And so, while
the sundry heaps of rags and bones, rusty iron and empty bottles
and waste paper, etc., were constantly changing owners, the barrels
remained in their original position, looking almost like sentries of
the establishment.

There was a small room at one end of the shed, reached by a ladder, and
this served as a sleeping-place for the old man. And here, amid these
surroundings, had he lived for forty years, managing somehow or other
to make a living in a generally honest way.

It was a fresh, bright morning in October, and, for a wonder, a ray of
sunshine had found its way into the dismal shed, where Jasper, seated
against his foremost barrel, was reading a newspaper, when a child's
voice aroused him.

"Please, Mr. Jasper, I've come for our goods."

The tone was familiar, and with a look of genuine pleasure Jonas turned
to see little Rob Mellor standing at his side. A strange, old-fashioned
child he was, though barely eight years old; but, in spite of the
ragged clothes and neglected appearance, there was a wonderful
attraction about the little fellow, that even Jonas had been unable to
resist, ever since he first knew him, some two years before.

"Ah, Rob, is that you back again?"

"Yes, Mr. Jasper."

"Well, I was thinking only last week it was about time for you to turn
up; and where's Phil, and the rest of your party?"

"Well, Mr. Jasper, father and mother are coming to-morrow, so they say,
and they sent Phil and me on to get things straight; only Phil's gone
to the station now to carry a bag, and he thinks he'll get threepence
for that; because, you see, Mr. Jasper, we've got to keep ourselves
to-day and to-morrow, and we've taken our old room down at No. 20; and
so I've come for our goods."

"And where have you been this turn, eh?"

"Please, Mr. Jasper, we've tramped about as usual, through Hampshire
and Wiltshire, and lately we've been fruit-picking and hopping in
Surrey and Kent; and mother has sold things out of her basket, and Phil
and I have sung; and so we've got along nicely. But I'm oh so glad to
be back home again."

"Home, eh? And is that what you call Helmstone?"

Rob was silent for a moment, but then replied slowly,—

"Well, you see, Mr. Jasper, 'tisn't Helmstone so much as you and the
Mission Hall."

Jasper laughed.

"A queer mixture," said he. "However, I'm real glad to see you back,
Rob. Sit down a bit till I've finished my pipe, and then we'll see to
your chattels."

Quickly Rob obeyed, and curling himself up against one of the barrels,
sat, looking supremely happy to be once more in the company of his old
friend. For they were fast friends, Rob and Jasper, in spite of the
nearly seventy years that lay between them. Perhaps, if the truth were
told, that child could do more with the old man than any one living.
Phil, too, was a favourite, but Rob stood first in Jasper's affection;
and it was a real pleasure to him when the cold weather put an end to
the Mellors' wandering life, and brought them back to that wretched
attic in Preece's Place which Rob had called "home."

Poor little lad! Never yet had he known the real meaning of the word.
It was a hard life that he and Phil led; up and down the country those
children tramped, from May to October, sleeping where they could, and
depending for a livelihood on what they begged or earned by the way, or
what mother sold out of her pedlar's box. They never quite understood
where father got money from; sometimes he seemed to have quite a lot.
But they never dared ask where it came from, and Phil was always afraid
it was not honestly gained.

No one who saw Stephen Mellor could doubt that he had seen better days;
and sometimes Phil, who was nearly thirteen, would ask his mother if
he was dreaming, or whether he really could recall a comfortable home
away in the North. But she never satisfied his curiosity—only turned
the conversation, and told him he always had such strange ideas; though
Phil was sure the tears came in mother's eyes when he asked her; and
then she would bid him say no more.

The love between the two boys was very strong and true. Phil was
Rob's hero, Rob was Phil's charge; and Jonas Jasper was the friend of
both. It was a strange thing that he should have taken such a fancy
to the lads, for Jonas was reckoned anything but sociable among his
neighbours; yet there was an exception even to this rule, and for two
years now the old man and the children had been the fastest friends.
Their quaint ways amused him, and nothing pleased him better than to
see them come into his shed, and curl themselves up on the ground
against the barrels.

"It's so nice there are three of them," Rob would say, "because that's
one each. Anybody would think you had got them on purpose for us, you
know."

And so now the happy intimacy was renewed for another winter; and Rob,
sitting there, telling Jonas a summer's adventures, forgot all the
hardships of the past in the happiness of the present.

It was not long before Phil joined them, as glad as Rob to be there
again, but in no mood to sit down.

"No, no, Mr. Jasper, not yet. I've got some shopping to do. Look here!"
and opening his hand he displayed a shilling. "Wasn't it fortunate? the
gentleman whose bag I carried hadn't anything smaller, except a penny.
I told him I'd go for change, but his train was just off, so he gave me
this. And now, Rob, you and I will invite Mr. Jasper to dinner; only,
as our room is not ready, perhaps he will allow us to dine here."

Rob clapped his hands in glee; but Jonas shook his head, though a smile
crossed his face, at the boy's dry speech.

"You keep what you've got," he said. "My dinner has been ready since
yesterday; see here!" and reaching down a plate from a shelf that hung
near, he exhibited a black pudding and a hunch of bread.

But Phil was off, and presently returned with three pieces of cold
cooked fish, a loaf of bread, and a can of hot coffee; and seating
himself on the ground he held up his change.

"See here, fivepence to go on with; sevenpence spent; fish threepence,
coffee twopence, bread (it's stale) twopence. Who says I don't know how
to go to market? Now, Mr. Jasper, you lend us a knife, and we'll begin.
But first we'll thank Jesus for giving us this;" and in a moment the
two boys had bared their heads, while Phil, in simple words, asked a
blessing on their meal.

Jonas sat watching them with a strange expression on his face; he had
seen them do the same many times before, for they would never eat a
meal without giving thanks. But somehow those boys seemed the only link
between him and God. He was no infidel; there was a God, for certain,
but he never thought of Him, except when, as now, the lads spoke to or
of Him. And it was a strange sensation, there, in that dark shed, to
be, as it were, suddenly brought to think about Him, by a few simple
words like that.

"You don't suppose the Almighty is any the wiser for what you've said
in this hole, do you?" he asked one day. And never had he forgotten the
astonished look on Phil's face.

"Why, Mr. Jasper, God is here, close by; and we needn't have spoken out
loud for Him to hear."

"God is here," and Jonas looked round the shed with its dirt and
disorder, as though the thought was not altogether pleasant. A God far
off was on the whole preferable to a God so very near; for it was only
in His power Jasper thought of Him. God in Christ, a pitying, present,
loving Saviour, was altogether unknown, and so, undesired.

A merry party were the three over their dinner. Jasper had to share
the fish, and then his pudding came as second course, after which they
all adjourned to the far end of the shed, in search of the Mellors'
furniture, which he was obliging enough to store for them during their
absence. And indeed it did not take up much room—an old mattress, two
or three pieces of bedding, a couple of chairs, one or two stools, some
crockery, a kettle, and an old box which did duty for a table; these
comprised the whole of the family possessions.

[Illustration]

The boys were not long in carrying the lot across to the attic, which
happened to be untenanted again just when they wanted it. And so, in a
settled resting-place once more (and that place Helmstone), the boys
were in the highest spirits; forgetful of the past, fearless for the
future, living in the present joy of Jasper's friendship, and full of
simple trust in a loving Saviour who always cared for them.



CHAPTER II.

LOOKING BACK.

FAR away from the sea front, with its fashionable crowd of visitors
and pleasure-seekers, and its splendid terraces, where the wealthy
and the worldly lived, there stood an old "gone-down" street (perhaps
the oldest in Helmstone), with high, narrow houses on both sides,
that so shaded each other as to allow very little sunshine to find
its way in. But half-way down on the right-hand side there was a
break in the regular row, and a new, attractive building stood out in
striking contrast to its dismal surroundings. The John Street Mission
Hall was indeed as bright a place as it looked, and ever since its
erection, some six years before, it had been a centre of life and love
and blessing. Indeed, it quite woke up the old sleepy street, for
there was always something going on in one or another of its cheery
rooms—mothers' meetings and men's classes, night schools, temperance
gatherings, or mission services. The doors were nearly always open, and
not only so, but inside the doors there was a welcome for every one who
came.

As Phil expressed it one day, "At most places they'll put up with you;
but at John Street they seem to want you."

Yes; Phil was right. The sinful, the weary, the wandering, the lost,
were "wanted" at John Street, and every one who set foot inside the
building found himself surrounded with an atmosphere of love that was
difficult to resist; for the workers were men and women whose hearts
God had touched, and who, through the love of Jesus to their own souls,
were, like Him, full of love for sinners.

Perhaps it was a wise move to make Forbes the policeman caretaker of
the premises; for although underneath the coat of blue there beat as
warm and tender a heart as could be found, yet his tall, commanding
presence and somewhat stern appearance had a beneficial effect; and
dire mischievous or riotous, bent on disturbance, were oftentimes
restrained when they remembered that the hall-keeper was a "bobby."

One great feature of the work carried on there was a free breakfast,
given every Sunday morning to a certain number of destitute people, who
were expected, and indeed almost obliged, to remain for a short gospel
meeting afterwards. It was Forbes who first told the Mellor boys about
it. Finding them asleep in an entry one Sunday morning, as he was going
home from "night duty," he roused them, and soon heard from Phil how
father and mother had "gone away yesterday, and locked the door," so
that the poor lads were obliged to sleep where they could. "But we've
been quite comfortable, sir; because, you see, we found an old sack,
and it kept us so warm."

Rob looked rather frightened at the tall policeman who thus invaded
their solitude; but Phil, who never seemed afraid of anybody, not even
his father, met the constable's searching gaze with an unwavering look
in those clear, truthful eyes, that were such a wonderful feature of
his face.

"Humph! I should think you wouldn't mind some breakfast?"

"Indeed, sir, we should be very glad; for I'm afraid father won't be
back just yet; he generally comes home after dark."

Forbes laughed at the boy's innocence, and murmured to himself, "Dark,
eh? one of your night birds, I reckon;" but bidding the lads follow
him, he led them, not to the police station, as Rob feared, but to the
Mission Hall, where, although it was still early, some four or five
people were busily engaged preparing breakfast.

With just a word to one of them, Forbes left the boys, and soon they
found themselves seated by the stove, eating thick slices of bread and
butter, drinking hot coffee, and supremely happy in the good fortune
that had brought them there.

It was a wonderful Sunday for Phil and Rob; they stayed there nearly
all day, for the "after-breakfast" service was followed by Sunday
School, both morning and afternoon, and this again by an evening
mission service, to all of which they remained, hearing, almost for the
first time in their lives, the old, old story, of Jesus and His love.
Their teacher too, how kind he was! and how interested to know all
about them, and where they lived!

"And now, boys, you can come up here every evening; there will always
be something going on, and you will generally find me here; I'm Mr.
Armstrong, so good-bye! I shall look out for you to-morrow; and then
we'll have some singing, and a talk all round."

Hand in hand they went away when the last meeting was over—away from
the warmth, and the cheeriness and the love of the Mission Hall, into
the coldness and dreariness and poverty of that attic room in Preece's
Place. But a very real happiness was in their hearts that night, for
they had heard of a Father who loved them dearly, of a Saviour who
cared for them always, of a Friend who would never leave them; and in
simple childlike trust they believed it all, and that night lisped
their first prayer to their Father in heaven.

All this had happened two years ago now, and the long summer wanderings
took the boys away from Helmstone for months together; but no sooner
did winter put an end to their journeys, and bring them back, than Phil
and Rob would be found at the Mission Hall the very first night of
their return.

Sharp beyond their years, they had learned a great deal when there.
God was to them so very real. But this had come home to the boys in
different ways. The absorbing thought in Phil's mind was God's intense
hatred of and detection of sin, in every shape and form; while to Rob,
God in His wonderful constant personal love was his constant joy.
So they helped each other, and Phil's tender conscience was often a
safeguard to Rob, while his simple confidence in the love of Jesus was
a comfort to his elder brother.

But there was one great and mutual trouble: never yet had they
succeeded in persuading Jonas Jasper to go with them to John Street.

"Not yet, boys, not yet; maybe I'll go one day, but it isn't much in my
line."

This was always his answer, and the lads were discouraged.

But they had told Mr. Armstrong about it, and he was going to pray that
God would bring him, and they were to pray about it too; and so it was
quite certain Jasper would come before long.

As to their father, it was no use to ask him; he only swore if they
mentioned it. But there was one comfort; he didn't hinder their
going, only they weren't to bother him about it. Mother had been once
or twice, and said it was all very nice; but somehow nothing seemed
to give her pleasure or pain. There was a settled, cold, hopeless,
indifferent air about her, that seemed to tell of a life out of which
had been crushed all joy and hope and even feeling.

Amid these cheerless surroundings, and in this loveless home, Phil
and Rob had been brought up, chilled, cursed, uncared for—nay, not
that, for a Father in heaven was watching over them in infinite love,
and their young lives were precious in His sight, for they were His
children, and "of such is the kingdom of heaven."



CHAPTER III.

A NEW DISCOVERY.

A COLD, cheerless November afternoon, and the day which had begun
with fog was ending in rain; but it was Sunday, and so the doors of
Jonas Jasper's shed were shut, and he at the farther end was sitting
over his stove, which managed to throw an almost cheerful glow on the
dismal surroundings. Perhaps he could hardly have told you why he
"shut shop" on Sundays. Certainly it was from no thought of keeping
holy the Sabbath day, for God and His law were nothing to Jonas; but
it was a comfortable thing sometimes to shut the doors, and keep warm
and quiet, and in his line of business there wasn't much doing. And
then, too, when nobody was peering in and out, he could count over his
savings, that were so slyly stowed away in that old pickle jar up in
the corner. Not that they amounted to much; but still there was enough
to keep Jonas from the workhouse yet a while, even if he "retired from
business," as folk say. That was the one dread of his life—lest he
should end his days as a pauper. But of the afterward of those days he
never thought, or of the moment when pauper and prince alike should
stand before God in judgment, to give an account, not of poverty or of
riches, but of how they had treated the Lord Jesus Christ, whom God had
sent to save sinners.

And so this afternoon, as usual, the money had been counted and added
to, and the old man had smoked his pipe, and read his newspaper, and
dozed for an hour or more, when he was roused up by a knocking at the
door of his shed, and Rob's voice breaking the dismal silence.

"Please, Mr. Jasper, it's Rob."

"Oh, it's you, is it?" and making his way to the door, Jonas drew the
bolt, and admitted his little, ragged, shivering, dripping visitor.

"Well, Rob, what's brought you round here? I thought you'd got a tea on
at your mission place?"

"So we have, Mr. Jasper; but I've got something for you, and I wanted
to bring it quick. See here!" and Rob displayed from under his little
jacket (hardly big enough to be any protection) a nicely illuminated
text, which his teacher had given him that afternoon for his old
friend. "Isn't it beautiful, Mr. Jasper? Look at the flowers all
painted so lovely, and the colours?"

Jasper smiled. "My old eyes won't hurry themselves," he said. "I can't
see yet. We must have more light, I reckon; put a match to the lamp,
Rob, and hand down my glasses. Now then, we'll have a look. What's it
all about, eh? 'He careth for you.' Humph! It's very pretty to look at;
but I don't see much meaning in it."

"But teacher said I was to tell you that 'He' is God, and 'you' is Mr.
Jasper, and so you were to read it, 'God careth for Mr. Jasper;' and
it's out of the Bible, and so it is quite true." Having delivered his
gift and his message, Rob sat down and watched his old friend.

"Oh, that's what he says, is it? Well, Rob, I think different to that.
I don't think God has ever cared much about me, or I about Him. I've
gone on my own way, and never harmed anybody as I know of, so He's had
no cause to interfere with me; and when my time comes to go, well, I
must take my chance with the rest."

"But where shall you go when your 'time comes,' Mr. Jasper?"

Jonas was silent for a moment, and then answered, "I don't see as
anybody can tell, Rob, so it's no use wasting time talking about it.
Just fetch down the cups, and we'll have some tea; you look as though
you'd be none the worse for it."

But there was a cloud on Rob's face. "I thought you'd like that card so
much," he said, "and teacher hoped you'd put it up against your wall."

"So I will, Rob, and you shall fix it where you please, if you can find
any room."

In an instant the child was on his feet, trying one place after
another, and finally resting it on a strip of wood just opposite the
old man's chair. "That's lovely," he said; "but oh my!"

"What's the matter, Rob?"

"Doesn't it make the wall look dirty?"

Jasper glanced up, and there, truly enough, the clean white card, with
God's message upon it, made everything around look almost black in
contrast.

[Illustration]

"Dear me, Rob, I didn't know my old place was so dirty, and 'tisn't
long ago I gave it a touch of whitewash. Seems to me the card and the
place don't agree very well. Anyhow, 'tis pretty; and now we'll have
our tea, such as 'tis. But you won't have any cake here, Rob, like you
would have done at the Hall."

"I'd rather be with you, Mr. Jasper, and have no cake."

"Would you now?" and a glow of pleasure shot into the old man's heart
at this childish test of love. "Do you care so much for me as all that,
Rob?" As he said the words, his eyes fell once more upon the text, "He
careth," the very word he used himself about Rob. What had he meant by
it? Love, and a desire to be with him; and could it be that God had any
such feelings towards him? "He, God, careth for you, Mr. Jasper," and
it was in the Bible. That was the message Rob had brought. Well, the
Bible was true, for certain; he had never doubted that. But this was a
staggerer! That he, Jasper, as a man, was anything to God, seemed so
utterly strange and new.

"'He,' 'you,' like as if there was only the two of us," he half
muttered to himself; and then for some minutes there was silence, while
the child ate his tea, and the old man, pretending to eat, was lost in
thought.

"God don't care about me, or I about Him," he had said a few minutes
before. But there, in front of him, was God's contradiction of half the
words! True enough it was of him, that he had cared nothing for God all
these long years; but perhaps God had cared for him! Loved him, liked
to be with him! Ay, the lads had often told him that Jesus Christ was
in that dark shed of his; but he had only laughed, although perhaps the
words had not been utterly lost, and sometimes, when sitting alone, the
thought of God's presence—there because everywhere—would come into his
mind, and make him somewhat uneasy. But now a fresh idea had struck
him. Was God in that shed of his because He loved him and liked to be
with him? Nay, it could not be. And yet there, in the dim light and the
silence (for Rob had fallen asleep in his warm corner), old Jonas sat
and thought, and the words echoed and re-echoed, "careth for you."

Somehow that word seemed to mean so much just then. God takes an
interest in you; God thinks of you; God loves you. And then a memory
of long years ago flashed a new light upon the words, and he recalled
how once, and only once, the strong love of his man's heart had been
repulsed with the words, "But I don't care for you, Jonas." Even now
the memory of that early love, refused, rejected, was deep in his
heart. And could it be, though he had said to God, "I don't care for
You," that God still loved him, and wanted him for His own?

"Well, I don't rightly understand it," he muttered; "but there's
something comfortable about it anyhow, and maybe some time I'll know
better what it means. Halloa, there's some one at the door. That must
be Phil, for certain."

Phil it was, who, having stayed to the tea at the Mission Hall, came in
to fetch his brother home.

"I wanted him to go back to you, and have a good feed, Phil," said
Jasper; "but he was minded to stay here with me, and put up his card
that he brought."

Phil glanced up at the wall. "It looks nice up there," he said. "Only—"
and he hesitated.

"Only what, boy?"

"How it does show up the wall all round."

"Well, that's what Rob said; it's too clean for my place."

Phil was silent for a moment, and then sitting down, he said, in that
queer, old-fashioned way of his, "I think that's what God's Word
generally does, Mr. Jasper; it shows us up. Mr. Armstrong said the
other day that we don't find out how filthy sin makes us until we see
what God says about it in His Word. Every wrong thing we do or say
leaves a stain upon us, and then, when we put our lives alongside of
God's Word we find out how filthy we are; and so I was thinking, you
didn't know how dirty your old wall was until Rob put up the clean
text. And perhaps, Mr. Jasper—" and Phil hesitated, as though afraid of
saying too much.

"Well, lad, what is it?"

"Perhaps, if you were to take down your old Bible and read it
sometimes, you would find out how black you are, and then Jesus would
wash you in His blood, and make you quite clean." Phil ceased, almost
frightened at his own boldness.

But Jasper was not offended; so Phil took courage, and went on, "You
see, Mr. Jasper, you've often told us you've never wronged anybody, or
cursed like father does; but there's lots of other things are wrong,
that leave their marks upon us, only you haven't found them out yet;
and I was thinking you had better know all about it, because, you see,
it would be dreadful to die, and find it out afterwards! Now, Rob, we
must be off, or father will be angry. Good-night, Mr. Jasper."

Out into the cold and the darkness went the two boys, leaving their
old friend in a strangely disturbed state of mind. Rob's message and
Phil's were so different; the one comforting, the other arousing. Yet
both were true; but Phil's was uppermost just now. Perhaps, after all,
his life in God's sight wouldn't bear inspection. Nay, deep down in his
heart he knew it wouldn't. God's Word (he used to read it long ago)
would "show him up," and prove him a sinner; and once more his eyes
fell upon the clean text that made all around look so soiled.

But yet the very God whose word would convince him of sin was the God
that "cared" for him; and so, with strangely conflicting ideas the
old man blew out his lamp, and ascending the ladder that led to his
bedroom, soon forgot in sleep all that perplexed him.



CHAPTER IV.

TROUBLED THOUGHTS.

"FATHER, it's my birthday to-day;" and Phil Mellor stole his hand into
his father's, as he sat moodily over the fire one Sunday morning in
December.

"Is it, Phil? Well, 'twould have been a good thing for me and you too
if you'd never had a birthday."

"Oh, father!" and the boy's eyes filled with tears, "would you just as
soon be without me? Don't you care one bit about me, father?"

A strange look came over Stephen Mellor's face, as he glanced down at
the lad kneeling beside him.

"I didn't say that, Phil; but you've had a rough time of it, and—yes,
I do wish you'd never been born; not that I want to be rid of you; but
when I think of what—" and then he stopped. "But there, I don't wish to
think. Let me see, how old are you?"

"Thirteen, father; and I was thinking lots of boys have good times on
their birthday, and presents of all sorts, and I've never had that; and
so I wondered to-day if you'd let me have a birthday treat."

Stephen Mellor stared. "Treat, indeed; I don't see much likelihood of
that, Phil."

"Oh yes, I could, father; something I want so much; and you can do it
for me."

"Out with it, then. What is it?"

"Oh, father, will you come up to the Mission Hall to-night?" And Phil
took both his father's hands, and looked pleadingly into the troubled,
restless face before him.

For a moment there was a struggle. In his sober moments Mellor
had a father's heart, and just now it was rather drawn out to the
bright-faced boy before him, whose life he had made so sad. Surely it
was a little thing to do, and the Mission Hall folk had been kind to
the lads. Why shouldn't he go for once? He'd never done much to give
his boys pleasure yet. Phil's birthday!

How well he remembered the day he was born, in that comfortable home
away in the North, when he was a well-to-do man, earning a good salary,
and living in ease! But now—and he glanced round the wretched room,
with its miserable belongings—at his boy, with the ragged, shabby
clothes—at himself. Ay, that was the worst look of all; for it was he,
Stephen Mellor, who, by his own sin and folly, had brought all this
want and misery on his wife and boys. And as he sat there, crushed and
hopeless, the tears forced themselves down between his fingers and on
to Phil's hand.

The boy was startled. "Why, father, what is it? Are you ill?"

"No, Phil, no; don't talk to me. Yes, I'll go with you to-night;
anywhere for a change;" and the man rose from his seat, and walked
restlessly to and fro.

And so the cherished desire of Phil and Rob was fulfilled at last, and
that same evening Stephen Mellor was seen in the Mission Hall, sitting
on the very back seat in the farthest corner, between his two boys, who
with the most important air were pointing out everybody and everything.

But just as the service commenced Mellor gave a sudden start, as he saw
a policeman enter the room and make straight for the corner in which he
sat.

"Phil, why is that man corning here? What does he want?"

"Why, father, it's only Mr. Forbes. He lives close here, and takes care
of the place, and he's just going to shut the window."

"Are you sure, Phil?" And though reassured when he saw Forbes give a
kindly nod to the boys and pass on, it was yet some time before he
recovered himself sufficiently to pay any heed to the service.

Hymns were sung, prayers offered, and Scripture read, without much
effect upon him. But then a tall, earnest-looking man ascended the
platform, and in a clear voice said, "I've a very short text to-night,
friends, only four words; and you'll find it in Daniel v. 6, 'His
thoughts troubled him.'"

In an instant Mellor was arrested, and leaning forward he gazed
earnestly at the preacher, as he narrated the familiar story of
Belshazzar's feast, with the mysterious writing on the wall that put so
sudden an end to all the festivities, and turned the gay, light-hearted
king, who had been the leader of all the merriment, into a pale,
trembling, awestruck man.

"Ah, my friends, it only needs a very short message from God to put a
stop to all earth's pleasures; and so it was that night when there went
home to Belshazzar's heart a consciousness that he was wrong, and so
'his thoughts troubled him.'"

"I think the same might be said of a good many here to-night, and
there's nothing has more power to trouble a man than his own thoughts.
Poverty, pain, sorrow, all are easier to bear than an accusing
conscience, a haunting memory, a condemning thought, for it's a trouble
you can't get away from. Some have bad homes, and they leave them;
trying situations, and they give notice; bad husbands or wives, and
maybe they get a separation; but you can't get a separation from your
thoughts, or give them notice to quit, for, go where you will, your
thoughts go too, and you've wished you needn't think, and the cry of
many a heart is, 'Oh, if I could only forget.' Perhaps you've tried to
drown your thoughts in drink, but they won't be drowned; or to banish
them by pleasure, but they don't go; and now to-night, in this very
hall, they are troubling you. Yes, thoughts of sin committed against
God or man. And shall I tell you why they trouble you? Because God
is saying to you as to Israel of old, 'I know your thoughts and your
works. I know the things that come into your mind, every one of them.'
Ah, friends, it's because God knows what you know, that you are uneasy."

"Perhaps it is not thoughts of the past only, but of the future, when
you know you will have to meet God in judgment, and you say, 'I don't
like to think about death.' Well, now, I'll tell you how to get rid
of these troubling thoughts. Instead of keeping away from God, go and
tell Him all about it. You see, He won't be surprised at any startling
revelations of evil, because He knows it all now; only, before He can
help you, you must take Him into your confidence, and, oh! you will
find Him a friend indeed. Your sin against Himself He will forgive, for
'if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us'; and
won't it be better to get rid of it by confession than to seek to cover
it up? And if I have wronged my neighbour, there must be confession to
him too. God's Word is very plain about this. He won't forgive unless
we ask forgiveness also from the one whom we have wronged; and so, by
confession to God and man, there will come pardon for all that is past,
and your thoughts will cease to trouble you."

"You see, the writing on the wall didn't trouble Daniel one bit, but
he was the only one in that vast assembly who was at rest. And why? He
was a sinner indeed, but a forgiven sinner. And so, my friends, it may
be with you. And then God's messages shall no more alarm you, not even
when the last one comes to bid you meet your God, for, washed in the
blood of Jesus, you will be ready to meet Him without fear."

"But one word in closing. God knows your thoughts, but do you know His?
Oh, listen. 'I know the thoughts that I think towards you, saith the
Lord; thoughts of peace, and not of evil.' Yes, however black your past
may be with sin, God has thoughts of peace about it; for Jesus has made
peace by the blood of His cross, and He offers that peace to you now.
Peace for your conscience, peace for your heart. Will you accept it?
Will you come to Him as a poor sinner for whom Jesus died? If so, He
will say to you as to one of old, 'Go in peace; thy sins are forgiven
thee.' 'Let not your heart be troubled.'"

For a moment there was silence ere the speaker closed in prayer, and
then, while every head was bowed, the choir sang softly,—

  "Sinner, now thy heart is troubled;
     God is coming very near;
   Do not hide that deep emotion,
     Do not check that falling tear.
 Oh, be saved, His grace is free; oh, be saved, He died
   for thee."

  "Jesus now is bending o'er thee;
     Jesus, lowly, meek, and mild;
   To the Friend who died to save thee
     Wilt thou not be reconciled?"

  "With a lowly, contrite spirit,
     Bending at the Saviour's feet,
   Thou may'st feel this very moment
     Pardon, precious, pure, and sweet.
 Oh, be saved, His grace is free; oh, be saved, He died
   for thee."

The music ceased, and the meeting was closed with earnest prayer; but
any who wished to stay behind were asked to do so.

"Will you stop, father?" The question came timidly from Phil.

"No; I've had enough. Let me get out of this!" and in a moment Mellor
had slipped from between his boys and was gone. Then finding himself
outside, he paused for a moment, as if hesitating where to go or what
to do; but finally he turned up a side street, and walked with short,
rapid strides up and down.

There was a tremendous struggle going on in his heart just then. The
words at the Mission Hall had gone straight home. His thoughts were
indeed troubling him. But how should he get rid of them—confession
or concealment? For years he had tried the latter, and now once more
conscience was speaking. "Make a clean breast of it to God and man."
How could he? It might mean arrest, imprisonment; and yet his present
life was hardly preferable. Should he? Could he? And up and down the
street he paced with this tremendous struggle going on in his heart.
Christ longing to save, and Satan longing to keep his slave. But the
decision lay with Mellor. At last it came.

"No," he muttered to himself, "I can't face it. It's too hard. I must
go on as I am!" And with this resolve he turned into the public-house
at the corner, there (as Mr. Armstrong had said) to try and drown his
thoughts in drink.

All unknown to Mellor, Phil had been following at a distance, sure
that something unusual was at work in his father's mind, and wondering
what would come of it. When he saw the swing door of the White Horse
open, and his father go in, something very like a sob came from him,
and sitting down on a doorstep he buried his face in his hands and
burst into tears. Poor lad! His father's promise to go to the Hall had
made him quite hopeful all day; but now,—'twas the old story—drink,
drink, drink. Oh, would things never be different? Was life always to
be as now? For some time poor Phil (brave as he generally was) gave way
utterly. The harsh treatment, the wretched home, the constant struggle
for existence, seemed altogether more than he could bear; but presently
the church clock striking roused him, and getting up, he walked away
homeward, passing the public-house in which at that moment his father
sat.

He paused outside. Should he go in and fetch him? It wouldn't be the
first time; and pushing the door gently, he peeped in. There sat his
father, glass in hand, joining in a drunken chorus. No, 'twas no use
to go. So, sadly and wearily he turned away, and with aching heart and
tearful eyes made his way home.

But love awaited him there. Rob was looking out for his brother, and
after a frugal supper of dry bread, the two lads lay down upon their
bed, which was little more than a heap of rags, and with their arms
around each other's necks, and their faces close together, forgot in
sweet sleep all the sorrows and hardships of their young lives.



CHAPTER V.

LESSONS FROM RAGS.

"MR. JASPER, are you there?" and Rob peered anxiously into the shed,
where his friend was generally to be found.

"Yes, Rob, of course; and in want of a boy to help me pick over this
lot of stuff that I bought yesterday; come along."

Rob was delighted, and making his way to the back of the shed, found
Jonas stooping over a heap of bottles, rags, rusty iron, bits of rope,
and every other indescribable rubbish.

"Dear me, Mr. Jasper, what are you going to do with all this?"

"Sort it, Rob, and then see what can be done with it. Now just you put
all the bits of iron there, and the bottles together, and the rags by
themselves there, in the corner. Now we'll get to work."

For some time both were busily engaged, and too engrossed even to talk.

Jonas was the first to break the silence. "Dear me," he said, "my old
back isn't so fond of stooping as it used to be; it begins to cry out
now. I must rest a few minutes."

Rob looked up. "I suppose, Mr. Jasper, you are getting old."

"I suppose I am, Rob; I shall never see seventy-nine again."

The child opened his eyes. "Seventy-nine? Why, Mr. Jasper, I should
think you'll soon have to die, won't you?"

"Bless the child! where do you get your talk from? Die? No. Why,
there's lots of folks live to be ninety and more. Of course there's no
knowing. I shall have to go when my time comes;" and as he said the
words an uneasy look came over his face, that had often been there
lately. Supposing he did live to be ninety or more, why, it was only
putting off, not getting rid of, that meeting with God, that must
come to each one sooner or later. He had not yet forgotten what Phil
said about the stain that every sin left on the heart, and many an
uncomfortable thought had he had about it. Once or twice he had been on
the point of taking down his old Bible; but the remembrance of Phil's
remarks that God's Word "showed us up," and the inner conviction of his
own conscience that it would do so, made him hesitate; and so, whilst
dreading its warnings, he missed its precious promises of comfort,
missed the loving messages of the loving Father, who, while hating sin,
yet loved the sinner, and longed to pardon and to save.

"Ah, Rob, that won't do;" and the old man woke up from his reverie.
"You mustn't mix those rags. Put the white ones by themselves here, and
the coloured ones in the corner."

Rob looked up astonished. "Why, Mr. Jasper, they're all so dirty and
torn they can't be any good."

"Yes, they are, though; those white ones will be made into paper."

"Paper?"

"Yes, beautiful white writing paper."

This was a new idea, and stopping his work Rob sat down and looked at
Jasper. "Tell me how," he said.

"Ah, that's more than I can do, Rob; only I know I sell them to a man
down in High Street, and he sends them to a paper-mill, and they do all
the work there. But it doesn't look as if they could come to much, does
it now?"

"Would you like to know how they do it?" And a voice from the entry of
the shed startled the two rag-pickers, as Forbes the policeman made
his way in. "I've been watching you two," he said with a smile, "and
listening to you; but you were both so busy you didn't see me."

Jasper laughed. "Rob's doing the work, and I'm doing the looking on
part; but sit down, Forbes, if you can find a seat."

"I can't stay now, Jasper—my wife will have my dinner ready; but
when I heard you both wondering how those dirty old rags could ever
be made into clean white paper, I thought I'd step in a minute, for
my father was foreman at a paper-mill, and many's the time I've gone
all over the place with him, and seen how 'twas done. Just such stuff
as you've got there in that heap of Rob's they take it, and break it
into little tiny bits, and put it into some strong stuff—caustic, or
acid, or something—and they get all the dirt out, and boil, and boil,
and boil it until it's quite soft and white, and you'd never know it
had been so dirty. I can't tell you all about it now, but it always
sets me thinking of what the Lord will do with a sinner. Filthy as we
are, He can just take us and wash away all our filth, and soften our
hard hearts, and make something altogether new out of us. 'Tis very
wonderful, and I don't know that we can quite understand how He does
it; but you see, like the rags in the mill, the master undertakes to do
it all, and he knows how and he does it, and so the Lord will undertake
to wash the blackest sinner white; and He'll do it too, if we'll only
let Him; and when the Lord takes a man in hand it's astonishing what He
can make of him, no matter how worthless he seems to be. Like your text
says that you learnt at Sunday School yesterday, Rob; can you mind it
now?" And the tall policeman looked down at the little lad crouched at
his feet.

Rob thought for a moment, and then clapping his hands said, "I've got
it. I can say it. 'Come now, and let us reason together, saith the
Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow;
though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.'"

"There now, that's just it, isn't it? Good-bye, and may we all be
washed in the precious blood of Jesus!" And away walked the worthy
man, with an earnest prayer in his heart that Jasper might know the
cleansing power of the Saviour's blood.

Of course he had known the old man for years, but Rob's prattle about
him had awakened a special interest in his heart, and often, if "on
duty" in the neighbourhood, he would drop in and try to say a word or
two for his Master, that might go home to Jasper's conscience. And
indeed he had done so to-day; and for a long time Jasper sat, gazing
at the rags, that brought such a lesson to his heart. Filthy? so was
he; apparently worthless? so was he; unable to get rid of the filth? so
was he. But what the rags couldn't do, and what he couldn't do, another
could.

"What was that you said, Rob?"

"'Twas our text in school yesterday, Mr. Jasper."

"Is it out of the Bible?"

"Why, yes."

"Whereabouts is it, then?"

Rob shook his head. "I don't know," he said, "but perhaps I could
find it;" and jumping up he reached down the old dusty book from the
shelf, and opened its pages, turning them over and over, but in vain.
After some minutes he put it down wearily, saying, "'Tis such a lot of
reading, and I can't find it; but Phil will know, and I'll ask him, and
be sure to tell you."

"All right, Rob! But anyhow you're sure it's there?"

"Oh yes, because teacher read it out of his Bible, and then he chalked
it on the board for us to learn; but Phil always finds the verses
himself as well. You see, he's so clever, and then he's five years
older than me." And with this excuse for his inferior capacities, Rob
set to work at his rags again, and Jasper to his thoughts.

Then, after all, the Bible wasn't all against a man; anyhow Rob's verse
wasn't. Perhaps he needn't be afraid to read it? He'd have a look
by-and-by when the child was gone, and see for himself. But now he must
set to work again.

"Dear me, Rob, you're getting on first-rate, and making that big heap
look quite foolish; but how about the time? Is there any dinner going
for you at home, child?"

"Oh yes; soup to-day. Mr. Armstrong gave us tickets yesterday, and Phil
went to fetch it when I came here; so 'tis ready now, and I'll have to
go; and then it will be school time. But after, if father doesn't want
me, I shall come in and finish my work."

"Father want you, eh? That doesn't happen very often, does it?"

"No, Mr. Jasper; I don't think he ever wants me myself, but you know
sometimes when Phil and I go out singing, we get quite a nice bit of
money given us, and father likes that. One night he made us go into a
public-house, and we got more than five shillings there. But Phil says
he'll never go again; and he and father had a row about it, but Phil
wouldn't give in, though father said he'd thrash him. But of course we
do go into the squares and terraces, and some of the people are so kind
to us; and I think, you know, Mr. Jasper, that Jesus tells them we are
poor and hungry, because, you see, we tell Him about it, and then He
tells them; so we always get something. But, oh! I like being here best
of all;" and rubbing his cheeks against the old man's knee, by way of a
farewell, the child ran quickly out of the shed, and up Preece's Place,
to his own home, where, as he expected, he found Phil and the soup.

Not again that day did he visit his friend; so Jasper finished his
sorting alone, and then clearing up his place a bit, and shutting his
doors earlier than usual (for these December nights were sharp and
cold), he drew his chair close to the stove, put his lamp on the shelf
just behind, and with almost trembling hands took down the Bible.

It was long years since he had opened it, and its pages were yellow
and brown, not, indeed, from use, but from age; for it had been his
father's before him. The book was open just as Rob had left it after
his fruitless search, and surely it was not by accident, but by God's
own loving arrangement, that Jasper, when he had put on his glasses,
and glanced down at its pages, read, "The Book of the Prophet Isaiah."

A verse or two at the beginning he read, and murmuring, "I can't make
anything of this," was just going to turn over when his eye caught the
words, "Wash you, make you clean," and for a moment he stopped. "The
same old story again," he muttered, but almost in the same breath there
came an explanation, for there, just below, were the very words Rob had
repeated, "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord; though
your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be
red like crimson, they shall be as wool." With almost a nervous clutch
he held the book nearer to the lamp, to make quite sure. Yes, there
they were; Rob was right, and glancing up for a moment, as if to try
and think it out, his eyes fell once more on the text Rob had brought
him two or three weeks before: "He careth for you."

"Well, really it seems like it," he said to himself, "if He'll do so
much for anybody as to make 'em clean;" and for a long time he sat lost
in thought over these two wonderful messages from God to him. "But I
can't see how it comes about: I'm down here in my old shed, and the
Lord's up in heaven, a mighty way away; and yet those boys often tell
me He's here! Anyhow, it don't seem much like it! I wish I knew things
rightly;" and Rob's words came back to him, "I suppose, Mr. Jasper,
you'll soon have to die?"

It was a terrible thought; but he faced it then. "Yes; I shall have to
die, and I daresay I shall be all alone in this dark place when I do
die; and I'm afraid of the thought, I'm afraid to meet God; and why?
Because of sin."

Yes, he knew it now; it had come to him he hardly knew how. Partly by
the boys' talk, maybe; partly by God's Spirit working in his heart;
and as he sat there by the dying fire and the fading light, a great
fear came over him, a fear that must come to every man who thinks of
God apart from Christ, and knows not that the God who hates sin is the
God who so loved the sinner as to give His only begotten Son, that
all through Him might be saved. Yes; the God that Jasper feared, as
he sat thinking late into the night, was the God who was in Christ,
reconciling the world unto Himself, not imputing their trespasses unto
them.



CHAPTER VI.

PHIL GETS A START.

"JASPER, are the boys here?" and Forbes peered into the shed where they
were so often to be found.

"No; Phil has got a day's work taking round circulars, and I expect
Rob's with him. Anyhow, I haven't seen either of them this morning."

"Well, their father has been knocked down by a runaway horse, and badly
hurt, I'm afraid; anyhow, his leg is broken in two places. We've taken
him to the Infirmary, and I've been round to their room, but it's
locked up, and the folk downstairs don't know where Mrs. Mellor has
gone."

"Broken his leg, eh? That's a long job."

"Yes, three months at least, the doctor said."

"Well, Forbes, 'pon my word I don't know that it's a bad thing; he'll
have to keep from the drink for certain, and then I should think his
wife and boys would have a better chance without him, for what they
pick up he spends."

Forbes shrugged his shoulders. "Humph! I don't know but what you're
right; but there, I think Phil's fond of his father in a way. Rob's
afraid of him, and no wonder, poor little chap. It seems to me you're
his father, Jasper; anyhow, he spends most of his time here, according
to his own accounts."

"Yes, he's always welcome to what I have, though that isn't much; and I
do really look out for their coming in."

"Well, if you see either of them, or the wife, just tell them what's
happened, will you? He's all safe up at the Infirmary, and they can go
up as soon as they like. I've left word round at their place; but maybe
they'll drop in here first."

But ill news travels fast, and as Phil and Rob were together
distributing circulars in quite another part of Helmstone, the tidings
reached them of their father's accident. One of the Mission Hall folk,
who had seen Mellor knocked down, met the boys and told them.

"You'd better be off to see him, I should think; they'll let you in all
right."

Phil hesitated. "No," he said; "I've promised to leave these circulars
every one to-day, and I can't go until I've done it, or else they would
say I wasn't truthful; but I'll be as quick as ever I can, and Rob
shall help, and then we'll both go and see father."

And so all the afternoon Stephen Mellor lay on his bed, after his leg
had been set and his injuries attended to, hardly able to realize
what had happened; surrounded by strangers and suffering, and almost
astonished at the longing in his heart to see either his wife or his
boys come in.

"Maybe they don't know it yet," he said to himself, after looking
eagerly at the opening door, which, however, only admitted the nurse.
"Or perhaps, perhaps, they don't care to come; and little wonder,
too! Glad to be rid of me. And here I am for I don't know how long,
confound it! with nothing to do but lie here and think, think, think!"
He clenched his fist almost in despair. Ah! There lay the greatest
dread; the physical pain was bad enough, but the pain at the heart was
far worse—those troubling thoughts that would not be banished, but that
clung to him with persistence, go where he would.

Yes, the three days that had elapsed since his visit to the Mission
Hall had been three wretched days, for God had been striving, and
he had been resisting that Holy Spirit, who would have led him to
repentance and peace. But his reverie was at last broken by the arrival
of Phil, who, having finished his work, had hurried to his father. He
was rather awestruck at the bandaged head and pale face lying on the
pillow, and putting his hand into his father's he said quietly, "Poor
father! I'm so sorry. Are you very bad?"

"Bad enough, and no mistake, Phil."

"How did it happen, father?"

Mellor put his hand to his head. "I hardly know," he said; "it seems
all confused; but your policeman friend, who brought me up here, said
he'd find it all out. It's all like a dream; but my leg pains me
dreadful, and my head too. I don't know, but I believe the horse kicked
me."

Phil put his hand over his father's aching brow, and said quietly,
"Yes, it's very bad to be kicked."

Mellor winced at the words, for they recalled how the bright boy before
him had more than once been kicked, not by a runaway horse, but by his
own father,—maddened, indeed, through drink. And yet, now that he was
suffering, Phil was ready to come with sympathy and love, just as if
the cruel past had never been; he was a strange lad, and no mistake!

For more than an hour did Phil stay, trying to while away the time, and
to interest the sufferer, until at last the nurse came to him and told
him he must leave, but could come again on the morrow.

"Of course, father, if I get work you won't see me; because, you know,
I shall have to keep the family now." He said the words laughingly,
while in his heart he knew they would be better off without him; and
secretly he saw a more prosperous, peaceful time during his father's
enforced absence, than he had hitherto known. But of all this he said
nothing, and promising that either he or his mother should come on the
morrow, he went away, leaving his father once more to the unpleasant
society of his thoughts.

The ward in which he lay was a small one, and the bed on either side
empty, so that Mellor was left pretty much to himself; but the nurse
was kind, and sat by him, talking to him, until at last, weary with
pain, he fell asleep.

Phil's first errand the next morning was to his friend Forbes, to find
out from him the owner of the horse that had knocked down his father.
"Because, you see, Mr. Forbes, I should think he ought to do something
for us, and I'm going to try; only I wish I looked more decent; you
see my clothes are so very shabby." Phil looked longingly at Forbes'
blue coat, with its bright buttons, and then sadly at his own patched
garments. "Mother sat up last night mending my jacket," he said, half
apologetically; "because, you know, rags look dreadful."

"Well, let's see, Phil, I think I could find an old waistcoat of my
Tom's that would look better than yours, and a necktie too. There; now
you'll do. Well, it's Mr. Cross, the news-agent down in George Street,
whose horse knocked your father down; not that he was to blame, though,
from all I hear, for the horse is quiet enough, they say, but took
fright at a traction engine. Anyhow, you might call down, Phil, and
tell your story."

So off the boy went; and after a patient waiting, found himself in the
presence of Mr. Cross, one of the busiest tradesmen in Helmstone, an
advertising and news-agent.

"Now, my lad, what's your business?"

In few words Phil told of his father's accident. "And I should be very
much obliged, sir, if you could give me work; because, you see, I shall
have to keep mother and Rob now."

"Work, eh?" and Mr. Cross looked down at the little lad beside him,
with his bright honest face, that had such a wonderful attraction about
it. "Work? I fancy I should have the School Board officer down on me if
I took you on here. How old are you?"

"Thirteen last Sunday, sir; so you see I'm all right that way; and, oh,
please, sir, take me. I'll do anything."

Mr. Cross paused. He did want a boy just then. "Is there anybody knows
you?" he said.

"Oh yes, sir; Mr. Forbes, the policeman, and Mr. Jasper up at the shed
in Preece's Place."

The man smiled at Phil's two references. "Known to the police, eh?" he
said.

"And there's Mr. Armstrong, sir, my teacher up at the Mission Hall in
John Street, he can tell you all about me, and he lives up in Sydney
Square."

"Mr. Armstrong the lawyer? I know him. Well, you can call round
to-morrow morning at nine o'clock, and then I'll see what I can do for
you, if he gives you a good character; but you must tidy yourself up a
bit."

Phil looked despondent. "I'm afraid I can't, sir; these are all
the clothes I have, and mother sat up last night mending them; but
of course, if you take me on, sir—" and his face brightened at
the thought—"I shall soon be able to buy some, and then I'll look
respectable." And away he bounded in high spirits, confident that Mr.
Armstrong would speak well of him. He was not mistaken, Mr. Armstrong's
recommendation was good indeed.

"I believe he's perfectly straightforward and genuine, Mr. Cross; I've
known him for nearly three years, and have never found him out in the
smallest deception. His surroundings have been of the worst, but amidst
all the lad has been kept true and honest; and I don't believe you'll
ever regret taking him; and I should be glad to know he had work."

And so the next morning, when Phil presented himself punctually at
nine o'clock, with face and hands as clean as soap and water could
make them, the foreman met him with the welcome news that Mr. Cross
would give him a trial, and he was set to work at once; sorting old
newspapers, of which, to Phil's astonished eyes, there seemed to be
thousands in that large warehouse behind the shop.

And so some good had come out of Stephen Mellor's accident; for thereby
the boy was rescued from the dangers of a life in the streets, and
taken into good regular employment.



CHAPTER VII.

THE CHRISTMAS MESSAGE.

CHRISTMAS DAY had come once more, bringing not only its message of
"Peace on earth" from God, but of goodwill from men to men; for into
many a poor home had gone gifts to gladden, and Christmas cheer to
chase away, for the time at least, some of the clouds of poverty and
care that hung so heavily there.

To the Mellors it had been an unusually good time; a substantial dinner
of beef and plum pudding from the Mission Hall, a present of groceries
from Phil's employer, two hundredweight of coals from Mr. Armstrong,
and new jackets for Phil and Rob, made by Mrs. Forbes' clever, kindly
fingers, out of one of her husband's big police overcoats, all combined
to make the day a very happy one; and though there was genuine regret
that the father was upon a suffering bed, yet both to wife and children
Stephen Mellor's absence was undoubtedly a source of peace.

The week that had elapsed since his accident had been a week of unusual
quietness and comfort in the home. To Rob, the chief joy of Christmas
Day lay in a surprise that he had for Mr. Jasper; for not only had
the Mission Hall folk sent an ample supply of dinner to the Mellors,
but, in response to Rob's earnest pleadings, a good basinful of beef,
potatoes and pudding had been given him for his old friend; and no
sooner had Rob swallowed the last mouthful of his own dinner, than
Jasper's portion, which had been carefully put close to the fire to
keep warm must be taken round.

As fast as his little legs could carry him Rob speeded down Preece's
Place with his precious burden. The shed was soon reached, and in
response to Rob's knock Jasper appeared at the door.

"Halloa, Rob, I thought Christmas Day was a sort of stay-at-home day to
family folk like you. What's brought you here?"

But Rob was too excited to say much, until, having put the basin on the
table, and taken off the newspaper wherewith he had covered and hidden
the dinner, he turned round and gasped out, "There!"

Jasper was fairly surprised. "Why, where has this sprung from?" he
said. "Have you and Phil been stinting yourselves to give your old
friend a taste of Christmas fare?"

"No, Mr. Jasper; our Mr. Armstrong sent it to you, every bit; only I
didn't want you to know about it until 'twas all here." And the child
stood beaming with delight at his friend's pleasant surprise.

"Ah, but I guess if Mr. Armstrong sent it, it was Rob Mellor asked for
it, eh?" And tears came into the old man's eyes at this fresh proof of
the child's genuine love.

"Why, yes, of course, he knows all about you, Mr. Jasper, and what a
great friend you are of mine; and you know he'll be very glad to see
you when you come to the Hall."

Jasper laughed. "One of these fine days, Rob, perhaps! Wait till the
spring comes, and we shall see. But anyhow you must give him my very
best thanks for this beautiful dinner;" and sitting down, he began to
taste the goodly fare that Rob had brought, while the child crouched
down at his feet, close to the stove.

"I like Christmas, Mr. Jasper, don't you?"

"Well, Rob, I like Christmas dinner, but I don't see much in the day,
except that sometimes it sets a man wishing he had somebody belonging
to him."

"But it's Jesus Christ's birthday."

"So I've heard say, Rob; but what of that?"

"Why, Mr. Jasper, don't you see, if He hadn't had a birthday down here,
He wouldn't have ever lived down here, and then died for us that we
might go to heaven. Teacher says that for a long, long time God had
promised that He would send a Saviour to die for us, to save us from
being punished for our sins; and then one night, in the very middle of
the night, the angels brought the message that the Saviour had come;
and I should think everybody was glad. Then the shepherds that the
angels spoke to went off directly to see the little baby that was to
grow to be a man, and then to die; and when they looked at Him, they
knew that God had kept His promise, and they were so glad, because He
was going to be punished instead of them; and that's why He's called a
Saviour. I can find it in the Bible, if you like, because I have read
it my own self; it's in the second chapter of Luke;" and Rob jumped up
and reached down the old book.

"It's rather hard words," he said. "I don't know that I can read it
all."

"Never mind, Rob; you leave it open there. Maybe I'll have a look at it
myself by-and-by."

And when the child had gone, and he was left alone, he did "have a look
at it," not only by the light of the lamp that burned at his side, but
by the light of God's Holy Spirit shining in his heart.

That light had indeed of late been making manifest the evil, and
showing him that he was a sinner; but God never does His work by
halves, and now the same light should reveal to him God's provision for
sin—a Saviour.

Carefully did he read the Gospel narrative of the birth of Christ;
the joyous message that had come from heaven to earth on that first
Christmas morn. "Unto you is born this day a Saviour."

"Unto you;" but did that mean a favoured few? Nay; what said the next
verse? "I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all
people." "All!" then that must include him—Jonas Jasper! "A Saviour
which is Christ the Lord." "The Lord," why, that was God Himself; the
Lord who said all the terrible things about sin was the Lord who came
to be the Saviour! For the first time in his life Jonas began to see
the two sides of God's heart, His hatred of sin, and His love for the
sinner. He hated sin so much that He must punish it; but He loved the
sinner so much that He bore the punishment for him.

For a long time the old man sat with his eyes fixed on the words, as
if trying to take in their full meaning. "It's just what I want, and
no mistake," he said to himself. "'A Saviour.' I shouldn't be afraid
to die then, if my sins had all been punished. 'My sins'—and I used to
think I wasn't a sinner, but a respectable fellow who could hold his
own before God and man. Anyhow, it's a good thing I've found it out.
I mind Phil said one day 'twould be a dreadful thing to find it out
afterwards."

"'Tis bad enough now, but I begin to see a little hope, if God has
sent a Saviour! I never used to think these things concerned me, but
it seems to me now the Bible must have been written on purpose for me;
anyhow it just fits me. How I wish I had started reading it before!
Halloa, what's that?" and Jasper listened, as a sound of singing broke
upon his ear, sweet, clear, childish voices outside somewhere.

[Illustration]

"That's Phil and Rob, I'll be bound, come carol-singing to their old
friend. What voices they've got, to be sure! No wonder they pick up
something when they start that! What is it they're singing?" And before
opening his door Jasper stopped to listen. They were close outside, so
the words came clearly.

  "Jesus, my Saviour, to Bethlehem came,
  Born in a manger, to sorrow and shame;
  Oh, it was wonderful, blest be His name,
          Seeking for me, for me."

  "Jesus, my Saviour, on Calvary's tree
  Paid the great debt, and my soul He set free;
  Oh, it was wonderful, how could it be
          Dying for me, for me."

  "Jesus, my Saviour, the same as of old,
  While I was wandering away from the fold;
  Gently and long did He plead with my soul,
          Calling for me, for me."

  "Jesus, my Saviour, shall come from on high,
  Sweet is the promise as weary years fly;
  Oh, I shall see Him descending the sky.
          Coming for me, for me."

The voices ceased, and for a moment Jasper stood, before opening the
door, as the refrain echoed in his ear, "Seeking for Me, dying for me,
calling for me." He would like to have been alone just then, to think
it all over; but the lads were knocking for admittance, and he couldn't
keep them outside, so the bolt was drawn, and in came the singers, cold
indeed (for it was real Christmas weather), but full of spirits and
cheeriness.

"How did you like our hymn, Mr. Jasper?" And Phil seated himself as
close as possible to the stove.

"Very much, Phil; but there's one fault to find with it."

"What's that?"

"Why, 'twas too short by half; you should get hold of something longer.
Why, I'd no sooner begun to listen than you stopped."

"We'll sing it again if you like."

"So do, then; but wait a bit till I'm settled in my chair all
comfortable. Rob, there's just room for you to curl in there. Now we're
all straight."

In a minute the boys sang their Christmas hymn once more, and again the
words fell on Jasper's ear:—

  "Jesus, my Saviour, on Calvary's tree
  Paid the great debt, and my soul He set free;
  Oh, it was wonderful, how could it be
          Dying for me, for me."

After they had finished there was perfect silence for some minutes.
Phil saw that Jasper was lost in thought, and motioned to Rob to keep
quiet; but presently the old man in very low tones broke the stillness.

"Yes, it was wonderful, wonderful!"

"Did you speak, Mr. Jasper?" and Rob's hand found its way into his
friend's.

"I think I was talking to myself, Rob, and that isn't fair, is it, when
you come to talk to me? I like your hymn very much; where did you get
it?"

"Oh, it's in our Sunday School book, and we learnt it up at John
Street; we sang it at lots of places last night about the streets,
after I left work."

"And picked up lots of pennies, I daresay?"

Phil laughed.

"Well, we did pretty fairly, I think; we've paid our lodgings right on
for next week, so that's nice, and we have a little to go on with."

"And what do you expect me to give you for your singing?"

Phil looked up in astonishment.

"Why, nothing, Mr. Jasper. You don't suppose we sang for that, do you?"

"No, I don't, Phil. I believe God sent you to sing to me to-night;" and
there was a strange earnestness in Jonas's voice as he said the words.
"Anyhow, I'd like to hear you once more."

"Not the same one again, Mr. Jasper; we've got such lots we know."

"I don't think you'll beat the one you sang just now, Rob; but you
shall please yourselves."

So after a moment's discussion they sang the same words once more.

"And now we'll finish up with a fresh one." But Jasper hardly heeded
them as they commenced to sing again. The words already sung seemed to
have taken such a hold of him, as he sat there pondering over them.

Presently the boys suddenly ceased their singing, and Rob said,—

"I've forgotten the next line, Phil; what is it?"

And Phil replied,—

  "Remember, I'm the sinner
     Whom Jesus came to save."

Jasper started; for like a voice from heaven the words fell on his ear.
The boys finished the hymn, and then, seeing that their old friend was
not inclined to talk, they quietly wished him "good-night," and crept
away into the cold dark night, leaving Jasper alone.

They were a little bit puzzled over him; he was so quiet, and not like
himself, as Rob said. But could they have seen him after he had closed
the door upon them (and bolted it, to prevent intruders), they would
have been still more astonished; for there he was upon his knees, his
eyes filled with tears, and his hands clasped in prayer.

"O God," he whispered, "I think I can understand it now. Thou didst
send Thy Son to be a Saviour, and I'm the sinner that Jesus came to
save. Oh, I am a sinner, and a big sinner too; but I can't be too
bad for Jesus. Save me now, Lord; wash me in the blood of Jesus now,
to-day!"

He paused, and then added softly,—

"Oh, it was wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, dying for me. Seeking
for me. I do thank Thee, Lord Jesus! I do thank Thee, Lord; it's all
right now!" And rising from his knees, the old man sat once more in his
chair, lost in happy thought.

Christmas. Yes, the best he had ever known; for to him, as to the
shepherds of old, had come a message from heaven—sung, not by angels,
perhaps, but by children, sent of God, as truly as was that angelic
band in Bethlehem's fields. And the result had been the same; for
Jasper, like the shepherds, went and found the Christ, and knew that
God's Christmas gift to him had been "a Saviour."



CHAPTER VIII.

THE SUDDEN CALL.

A VERY unexpected message had come to the Mellors on the day following
Christmas Day. Unfavourable symptoms had shown themselves in Stephen
Mellor, and indicated internal injuries hitherto unsuspected, and the
doctor could not say how things might turn. Anyhow, he was very ill,
and they had better go up.

He was indeed very ill, and Phil and his mother (Rob was too frightened
to go) were simply amazed to see the change that had come over him
since their previous visit, three days before.

"He talks so queerly," Phil whispered, as they stood at his bedside.

"Yes," said the nurse, "he's been light-headed all the day, and that's
a bad sign, you know, to come on now, a week after the accident. It's
certain he's more injured than we thought for. Of course he's been very
drowsy ever since he was brought here, and that looks like mischief to
the brain. But there, we're doing all we can, and maybe he'll take a
turn for the better. Only the doctor thought you ought to know."

But the "turn for the better" did not come, and after two or three days
of only semi-consciousness, alarming symptoms set in, and before wife
or children could obey the hasty call to go to him, Stephen Mellor had
passed into eternity.

Oh, the waking on the other side! oh, the afterward of death! God only
knows the anguish of a soul that has died without hope, without Christ!
Earthly justice he had eluded; earthly punishment he had escaped; but
when God's summons came, and the message went forth, "Thy soul shall
be required of thee," there was no possible delay, and without the
consciousness or power to cry for mercy, the spirit of Stephen Mellor
passed into the presence of the God who made it. Only a fortnight
before he had heard a message of mercy—that God's thoughts toward
him were thoughts of peace, that for such a life as his there was
forgiveness, through the atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ; and truly,
as he left the Mission Hall that Sunday night, he knew that God Himself
was pleading. But he refused the offered mercy, he turned away from the
outstretched hand, and now the day of grace was past, time was over,
eternity had begun.

Thus ended a life that had commenced with bright possibilities, when
Stephen Mellor was clerk in a Manchester warehouse, with a good salary
and a comfortable home. But, not content with his honest earnings,
he was induced by bad companions to try his luck at gambling, and
this seemed such an easy way of making money, until the losses began
to exceed the gains. Then came dishonesty, and Mellor's employer was
robbed to pay the "debts of honour," as he called them, by way of
satisfying his conscience. Forgery followed; the discovery of which
necessitated a hasty and secret flight. And so, pursued by justice,
haunted by bitter memories, covered with disgrace, disowned by
relatives, and surrounded by poverty and shame, for seven years the man
had wandered, barely avoiding detection, and living he hardly knew how;
thus bringing, not only on himself, but on his wife and innocent boys,
dreadful wretchedness and destitution.

But all was over now, and it was with almost a sense of relief that
his wife turned away from the Infirmary and went back to Preece's
Place. No more fear of detection, no more need to support her husband's
falsehoods by her own—and her cheek burned with shame as she thought
of the life of deceit that for his sake she had lived. No more angry
threats or blows, no more cruelty to the boys. All was ended now, and
for the future, she, with Phil and Rob, might know far more of peace
and happiness than for long years before.

But to Phil the thought of his father's death was very terrible; for
though there was no grief at his loss (how could there be?) there was
an awful fear that death had found him wholly unprepared for the great
change. Nay, something more than a fear; a sad certainty, as it seemed,
for the last days were days of unconsciousness, and how could he pray
then? There was only one ray of comfort; he and Rob had been praying
for him, and perhaps God had heard and answered their prayers. But they
could not even do that now, and it seemed so strange the first night
after the father's death, when he and Rob knelt (as always) to say
their evening prayers, not to pray for him.

Rob, through force of habit, was just beginning to do so, when Phil
stopped him.

"It's no use now, Rob, to pray for father! You see he's dead;" and the
lad hesitated, as if hardly knowing what more to say. A kind of shudder
passed through him as he recalled the cold, lifeless form which lay in
the silence of death up at the Infirmary.

"Where do you think father is now, Phil?"

The words came very softly and tremblingly from Rob, who could hardly
realize as yet that the father whom he had always feared was gone for
ever.

"I don't know, Rob; it's very dreadful, but—but—I don't see how he can
be in heaven, because there's nobody there who hasn't been washed in
the blood of Jesus, and who doesn't love Him; and I'm afraid father
didn't do that!"

Rob trembled. "Oh, Phil, I'd rather he was back here, even if he did
thrash us, wouldn't you? It's so dreadful to think that if he isn't in
heaven he must be—" and the child stopped, as if afraid to utter the
dreadful alternative, and clung closer to his brother.

"There, Rob, we won't talk any more about it. But I tell you what,
we'll pray a great deal more for mother. I expect she'll be different
now; for I'm sure father used to make her do lots of things she didn't
want to, and we'll try to be very good and kind to her. Perhaps she
will come up to the Mission Hall with us again, and hear all about
Jesus. And, oh, Rob, if she learns to love Him too, shan't we all be
happy here!"

A brighter prospect rose before the poor lad's eyes, a possibility of
peace and love, ay, perhaps of comfort too; for wasn't he in work now?
and their mother would be more free to do what she could. So, with
bright anticipations and a firm confidence in a Heavenly Father's love
and care, the boys lay down to forget in sleep their sorrows and their
joys.



CHAPTER IX.

JASPER'S PROMISE.

NEW YEAR'S DAY, and the fog which for nearly a week had hovered, more
or less, over Helmstone had lifted, and bright sunshine came in its
stead, as if to give promise of brighter days in store, during the new
untrodden year. So at least it seemed to Phil as he started out fresh
and early to go to his work. He was quite settled at Mr. Cross's now,
and was giving every satisfaction.

"An uncommonly sharp boy; dependable too," was his master's opinion;
"and if he sticks to me, I'll stick to him, and make a man of him
before I've done."

The day before, when Phil had asked for some time "off," to go to
his father's funeral, Mr. Cross had a talk with the lad, and learned
more of his history then; for, now that Mellor was dead, Phil felt
less afraid to talk about him. Before, there was always a dread lest
anything he might say should lead to suspicion or possible detection;
for he knew well enough that his father's life would not bear
inspection. But now there was no fear.

On the last day of the old year he, with his mother and Rob, had stood
by the open grave, and seen the body of Stephen Mellor laid in its last
resting-place. A dreary time it had been, up there on that exposed
bleak portion of the cemetery known as the paupers' ground, amid a
drizzling rain and fog, to stand the only mourners, shivering and
silent. Yet hardly sorrowful, as the husband and father was committed
to the earth, there to await the resurrection morning.

Therefore Phil had talked more freely to Mr. Cross, and told him
some of the difficulties and hardships of his young life, and at the
same time, filled with hope, had spoken on the future he longed for,
until his master almost smiled at the strange mixture of childish
expectations and manly common-sense.

"And so you're going to keep the family now on your six shillings a
week, are you?" he said, when Phil had finished.

"No, sir, not on that; but you see mother will do a little now, and
after I leave here of an evening, I often pick up something carrying
parcels; and then, before I come here of a morning, I earn twopence a
day and my breakfast for cleaning boots and knives at a house near,
where Mr. Armstrong spoke for me; and then you see, sir, God is bound
to provide for us, because mother is a widow, and Rob and I are
fatherless. I don't quite know how we are going to get all we want;
but I'm sure that we shall. It's the clothes are the trouble; rent and
food I can manage, and mother says I can get a deal more for my money
than she can; only, you see, clothes cost such a lot. But I'm not
afraid, and perhaps some day, sir, I shall be your shopman instead of
your errand boy (for I mean to stay with you, Mr. Cross); and then when
I'm dressed so respectably, you'll forget how shabby poor little Phil
Mellor was."

Mr. Cross laughed; like every one else, he had been irresistibly
attracted by the lad; his perfect genuineness and openness, together
with his quaint sharpness, had won his employer's heart, and made him
feel he would do all in his power to help on the boy who was so ready
to help himself.

"See here, Phil; now that I've made up my mind to keep you, you shall
have one of my caps;" and Mr. Cross produced a new shiny cap, with
white letters around the crown, "Mr. Cross, News-agent." "Now, you see,
you are marked as one of my boys, so you must take care how you behave
yourself;" and putting the cap on his head with a good-natured pat, he
told him to be off for the two or three hours he wanted to bury his
father, but to return in time to fetch the evening papers by the five
o'clock train.

After the funeral Phil returned to his work, and his mother went to the
Infirmary to fetch her husband's clothes; and Rob, being left alone,
stole round to his old friend, and found him as usual smoking his pipe
over the stove.

"Ah, Rob, I was looking for you. Come in, child."

Slowly Rob advanced, and then stood silent, a most unusual thing with
him.

"What's the matter, Rob, eh?"

"He's buried, Mr. Jasper."

"What? your poor father?"

"Yes; mother and Phil and I have just been to the cemetery; and it was
so cold and dismal, I didn't like it. And Phil is gone back to work,
and mother is out, and I've nobody to talk to, and I feel so queer. I
don't like funerals, Mr. Jasper."

"I don't suppose any of us like them, Rob; but it's got to be, you see.
We must all come to it."

"I wonder if you'll be buried near father, Mr. Jasper."

The old man started. "Bless the child! what's put that in your head?"

"Well, because there's a bit of ground quite close with no graves on
it; and you're getting so old, I thought 'twould be your turn soon."

But Jasper made no answer; he was for the moment startled at the
child's direct question, but also blessedly conscious of a new
experience—that, for the first time, the thought of death brought with
it no fear. The fact of dying, the physical pain, maybe, had never
troubled him; it was the afterward of death that had been the dread.
But now, ever since that Christmas evening, just a week before, he
knew that his sin had been dealt with in the person of Jesus, and that
through the precious blood there was perfect forgiveness for him, so
he had nothing to fear; for was not he "the sinner whom Jesus came to
save?"

"Well, Rob, I don't much care where they put my old body, because I
think I'll be with Jesus."

Rob stared; he had never heard his old friend talk like that before,
and he did not quite know what to make of it, or what to say.

Jasper continued, "Look here! what would you say if I was to go with
you and Phil on Sunday night up to your Mission Hall?"

The child fairly jumped with delight. "Oh, Mr. Jasper, will you really?
Do you mean it?"

"That I do, Rob. I'm ashamed of myself that I haven't been long ago;
but you see I've only just found out that 'tis all for me. Wonderful!
wonderful!"

As he said the words, his eyes fell on the text that had been almost
the first ray of light in that dark shed.

"And look here, Rob, if your Mr. Armstrong is up there Sunday, I'd like
to tell him that I know 'tis true God cares for me. I didn't believe it
when you brought home the card; but—but I know it now. Bless His Name!"
And as he spoke his eyes filled with tears of grateful joy.

"Oh, Mr. Jasper, how glad Phil will be that you're going on Sunday!
That will be, not to-morrow, but the day after. And we've been praying
ever so long that Jesus would make you come; and I'm oh so glad!" And
off ran the happy child to tell the good news to Phil.

And so the first Sunday in the New Year saw Jonas Jasper for the first
time in the Mission Hall, which had been nicely decorated for the
Christmas feasts, with evergreens and texts suitable to the season all
round the walls.

Immediately behind the speaker's desk there stood out (in large white
letters on a crimson ground) the very-text that had been so blessed to
Jasper: "Unto you is born this day a Saviour"; and as the old man's
eyes, aided by his spectacles, fell upon the words, he started with
pleasure, and turning to Phil he said, "I'm right glad they've put up
that verse. Is it always there?"

"Oh no, Mr. Jasper; it's only put up for Christmas time. You see,
'tisn't painted on the wall; it's only paper letters stuck on paper. I
expect 'twill be gone by next Sunday."

[Illustration]

"I wonder now what they'll do with it when they take it down?"

"I don't know; but we'll ask Mr. Forbes after the meeting. Do you want
to have it?"

Jasper made no answer, for just then the service began; but his
thoughts for some time were with the text, how he would like to have
it, to put up across the bottom wall of his old shed, so that it would
be always before him. But he must hearken to what was going on now.
The singing was beautiful, and no mistake; and then, after prayer and
reading of the Scriptures came a short, earnest address, to which
Jasper listened with the greatest attention.

"Now, friends, it's New Year's Sunday, a sort of special night, it
seems to me; and so, instead of taking a regular text, I want to talk
to you about two words, both of which you will find in the Bible many
times. The words are 'Hitherto' and 'Henceforth.' Hitherto, that means
all our past life up to this very minute, the years that are gone.
Henceforth, that means all our future life from this minute, the days
that, maybe, are yet to come, if God spares us. To-night we stand, as
it were, just between the two—looking back and looking forward."

"Let us look back first. I am sure that every one here can say what
Samuel said, 'Hitherto hath the Lord helped us;' or what Joseph's
children said, 'The Lord hath blessed me hitherto.' Yes; every day and
hour of your life God has helped and blessed you, or you wouldn't be
here to-night. But what have you done hitherto? Your past life, do you
like to think about it? Are you quite satisfied with it? Do you like
God to think about it? Your life up to the moment you entered this
hall, what has it been? What is it? Honestly, now, do you wish this
New Year to be just what past ones have been? Aren't you ashamed when
you look back on a life stained with sin and spent in forgetfulness of
God? 'Ah,' you say, 'but I mean to be different now. I've turned over
a new leaf. I've signed the pledge and joined a Bible-reading Union,
and I mean to attend here regularly.' But, my friends, 'God requireth
that which is past;' and before we can talk about a better 'henceforth'
we must settle a bad 'hitherto.' In 2 Cor. v Paul writes about changed
lives, about those who henceforth were going to live, not unto
themselves, but unto God. But before he speaks of this, he tells of One
who died for all; of One whose blood was shed to blot out the stains of
the guilty 'hitherto.'"

  "Have you been to Jesus for the cleansing power?
     Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?"

"Has your past, with all its sin, been blotted out of God's sight in
the precious blood of Jesus? He offers now to do it, if you will come
to Him, not excusing yourself, but confessing your sin; for 'if we
confess our sin, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sin.' Then
we can begin to talk about a better 'henceforth;' for when God forgives
a man, He gives him a new heart, which is a new power to lead a new
life; a life henceforth not unto themselves, not just seeking their own
pleasure, but the pleasure and the glory of God."

"And so, when this question of the past is all settled, we can begin
to look forward, and to say with David, 'The Lord is round about His
people henceforth, even for ever.' After salvation comes safety; never
alone any more when the devil comes along with temptation, or when
sorrow or suffering are permitted to try us. Hitherto we've had to meet
them alone; but henceforth God will be close at hand, As Jerusalem
was sheltered all around by mountains, so every child of God shall be
sheltered and protected by Him; and thus we can look forward to another
year with its unknown path, and can say, 'I will trust, and not be
afraid.'"

"But Paul looks farther ahead. When he was in prison, expecting almost
every day to be led out to die, he wrote to Timothy, 'Henceforth there
is laid up for me a crown of righteousness.' Ah, he was expecting a
reward! Are you? He had a bright prospect; have you? If Jesus has saved
you, are you working for Him? It may be some of you haven't much longer
to stay here. Oh, set to work at once, and tell some poor sinner how
Jesus has forgiven you, and is waiting to do the same for them. Won't
you be ashamed to meet your Saviour if you have never done anything
for Him since He saved you? If this has been so 'hitherto,' oh, let
'henceforth' find you working for Jesus."

"And then, when the last call has come—and it may come very soon—and
your place here is empty, and we miss you, and look for you in vain,
there will come a message from the other world about you, 'Blessed are
the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth; yea, saith the Spirit,
that they may rest from their labours, and their works do follow them.'
Yes, they rest in Jesus. Oh, blessed prospect! Is it yours? Should you
to-night, if the call came, 'die in the Lord'? or should you be among
those of whom Jesus said, 'Ye shall die in your sins'? Oh, friends,
this evening God speaks to you in love. Bring your guilty 'hitherto,'
your life that has been spent in sin, to the cross of Jesus now, and
you shall know what it is to say,—"

  "The cross now covers my sins;
     The past is under the blood."

"'Henceforth' my life here shall be for Jesus. 'Henceforth' my life
there shall be with Jesus."

Tears were streaming down Jasper's cheeks as the speaker ceased; and
while the closing hymn was sung the old man remained seated with his
face buried in his hands. Not until the service had closed, and the
people were beginning to move, did he raise his head.

Phil and Rob stood by, looking almost frightened, and quite glad to see
Mr. Armstrong come up, and with a word of kindly welcome say, "I think
this must be Mr. Jasper, that I've so often heard of from our young
friends here."

Jonas looked up. "Yes, sir, that's my name," he said.

"I'm very glad to see you here on this New Year's Sunday."

"Ah, I wish I had come before; but you see 'tis only a week ago I found
out that Jesus had died for me; and now I'm thinking I haven't long to
stay here for certain, and I've never done anything for Him, and I'll
be downright ashamed when I see Him."

"There's no reward for me; my past has been so bad. I reckon my
'henceforth' will be very short. Ah, 'tis a bad thing to be without
Christ so long, and only to find Him just at the last! These boys
here," and he looked lovingly at Phil and Rob, "they won't ever have to
feel as I do now; for they have begun young to love Jesus; and if it
hadn't been for them, sir, I'd never have thought about these things.
'Twas their talk and their hymns that told me about Jesus. And your
card that you gave to Rob for me was the very beginning of it all;" and
the old man laid his hand tenderly on Rob, who stood listening with
wonder to all that Jasper was saying.

For a moment there was silence; and then Mr. Armstrong, who was touched
indeed at the simple confession, said brightly, "Then I'm sure I can
wish you a 'Happy New Year;' for it must be that, now that you have
found Jesus to be your Saviour."

"Ah, but 'twas He found me, sir; He found me He came right into my old
dark shed 'seeking for me,' as the boys sang on Christmas Day. Ah, it
was wonderful, wonderful! And I've got nothing to give Him in return,
nothing, nothing!"

Fast fell the tears from the old man's eyes.

"Well, but you can begin now to do something for Jesus. Tell your
neighbours and your friends how the Lord has saved you, and that He
will do the same for them; and perhaps through your words some soul
will be led to seek Him too, and then there will be a reward for you.
So rejoice in the Lord, my brother, and be glad." With these cheering
words Mr. Armstrong bade him good-night, promising to pay him a visit
before long. And then, between the boys who loved him so dearly, Jonas
Jasper walked slowly home, after this his first visit to the Mission
Hall; and that night, from the dreary attic in which Phil and Rob lay
down to rest, there went up heartfelt praise to God as the two lads
knelt to say their evening prayer; and Phil, in simple, touching words,
thanked God for the answer given, because Mr. Jasper loved their Jesus
too.

"And, O Lord, please to do the same for mother, because we want her to
be different; and help Rob and I to tell her about Jesus, and to sing
to her, like we did to him; and may she be washed white in the blood of
Jesus; for Christ's sake. Amen."

And lying there, not asleep as her boys had thought, but wide awake,
Mrs. Mellor heard Phil's prayer, heard the earnest pleadings that she
too might be different, might be saved. The words went home to her
heart. "Different? Yes, that was just what she wanted; but was it
possible? So many years of sin, of forgetfulness of God! Could she ever
be different now?"

And from her heart, so weary, so crushed, so hopeless, there went up
an earnest "Amen" to Phil's prayer, inaudible indeed to any mortal ear
but heard so quickly, so gladly by that loving Father who is always
listening for a sinner's cry, and who said of her that night, as of
Saul of old, "Behold, she prayeth."



CHAPTER X.

JASPER'S TROUBLE.

TRUE to his promise, Phil asked Forbes to save the text that Jasper
so desired to have; and when the Christmas decorations were taken
down from the Hall, Forbes himself put aside the crimson banner that
had hung over the platform, bearing its Christmas message, "Unto you
is born this day a Saviour;" and the next evening, when "off duty,"
made his way up to Jasper's shed, carrying with him the words that had
brought such joy to the old man's heart.

From Phil, Forbes had heard something of the story of Jasper's
conversion, and so he was glad of an excuse to go up and rejoice with
him in his new-found happiness. But on reaching the shed, and gaining
admittance only after repeated knockings, he was surprised to find
Jasper sitting with his face buried in his hands, and the tears falling
from his eyes.

"Why, Jasper, what's the meaning of this? I thought to find you brimful
of joy. What ails you, man?" and the constable laid a kindly hand on
the old man's shoulder, as he repeated his inquiry.

For a moment there was no answer, and then, raising his head, Jasper
said, "'Tis stupid of me to give way like this, but—but 'twill be the
death of me."

"Death of you! What do you mean?"

"Why, don't you know? Haven't you heard that they're going to turn me
out—out of my old place, where I've been for more than forty years?
They might let it 'bide as 'tis a little while longer. I shall soon be
gone, and then they can do as they like; but 'tis hard on an old man
to pull his place down, and turn him out when he's close upon eighty.
'Alterations and improvements,' the man said who called here; and this
old shed and all the block of buildings behind it are to be pulled
down, and I've got to clear out at once, and it's almost too much for
me! But there, I oughtn't to 'take on' so, because I know my Saviour
will look after me. Only it came so sudden upon me, I can't get over it
yet." And Jasper cast his eyes round the dingy old place that, in spite
of all its discomforts and drawbacks, had become so dear to him, his
home for forty years!

"Well, 'tis an upset, for certain! Of course I'd heard some talk of
these new improvements; but I didn't know that 'twas really settled
upon, and I am sorry for you to have to shift. Though I don't think
'twill be hard to find a better place, and then we'll soon get you
moved in."

Jasper shook his head. "That's what you'll never do," he said. "My
chattels can't be moved; they're like me, too old. Why, those barrels
will fall to pieces if you shift 'em; and all my bits of things are too
shaky to stand it. No, if I must go I must, but my things can't; and
what's to become of me I don't know."

"But God does, my friend, and as your text up there says, 'He careth
for you.'"

At these words Jasper brightened. "I've been forgetting," he said; "but
it did seem hard not to fret. And the boys, they're nearly as much cut
up as I am about it. You see we love the old place, and it's hard to
go, it's hard to go; and all in a fortnight too."

"A fortnight! Ah, well, that will give us time to look about. And
now, see, I've brought the text that you wanted from the Hall;" and
unrolling his package, Forbes displayed the banner that Jasper had so
desired.

"Ah!" he said, fixing his eyes on it, "tis beautiful every way, and I
thought 'twould look so nice on my wall there, just where I could see
it; but it's no use now to fix it up."

But Forbes thought differently. "We will fix it up all the same," he
said. "'Twill cheer you up a bit to look at it, and I take it that
the Lord is a Saviour not only from sin, but for times of trouble as
well; and so He'll see you through this business too." So saying, he
hung the banner up just opposite Jasper's chair, making it fast with
two strong nails. Then sitting down, he drew from Jonas the story of
that Christmas evening, when God's own message had come to his heart,
through the boys to whom he had been such a friend.

"And to think I never found it before," he said, as he finished his
recital.

"Ah, that's what we all say when we find out the joy of having the
Lord Jesus, Jasper. But maybe He'll spare you a good while yet to tell
others of His love."

Jasper shook his head. "No, no," he said; "I'm breaking up, as folk
say. This cold weather has cut me very sharp, and I'm not the man I
was, even three months ago. I did get up to the Hall last week, but
I'd all my work to reach home again; you see, 'tis a tidy step from
here to John Street. Rob terribly wanted me to go again Sunday, but my
knees are so stiff with rheumatics I couldn't walk, so he stayed here
and sang to me; and then Phil came in later and read to me, and told me
what the preacher had been saying—about heaven, wasn't it? Ah, 'twill
be beautiful to get there."

"Yes, Jasper; no shifting then. The Lord tells us we shall go no more
out for ever, bless His name! But I must be off now."

"Wait half a minute, Forbes, will you? I want to speak to you about
something;" and Jasper rose from his chair, and going over to the
shelf, reached down the old pickle jar, that contained the savings of
so many years. "There isn't so very much," he said; "but what little I
have put by is here. I'd like to be buried respectably, and then, if
there's anything over, why, it's for the boys, bless 'em. Only I wish
you to have the handling of it, and perhaps you'd take care of it for
me until I know what is to become of me."

So saying, he drew from the jar a dark canvas bag, and handed it to
Forbes.

"There must be close on forty pounds, I think," he said; "but 'twill be
safer with you than with me; and if I want any of it (and I do owe a
trifle or two), you can just let me have it."

Forbes took the bag. "It shall be as you wish," he said; "but we'll
count it first;" and untying the string, there rolled out a little
stream of gold and silver, amounting altogether to £38 14s. 3d.

"Ah, I wasn't far wrong, you see; that will be something over for Rob,
won't it? I think perhaps he'll want it more than Phil; but I leave all
that to you. I know I can trust you, and I shall feel easier in my mind
now that I've told you. Good-night, and thank you for your call."

When Forbes had gone, and Jasper was left alone he sat there over his
fire, far on into the night, gazing ever and anon at the texts on his
wall.

"It must be right," he said. "'He careth for you;' and it will be true
of every day, and the Lord will help me through, as Forbes said."

So at last, wearied even with trying to think out his future plans, the
old man feebly ascended the steps that led to his bedroom, and after
an evening prayer, simple and heartfelt as a child's, he lay down, and
forgot in sleep all that had been troubling him.

The next day Jonas was surprised by a visit from Rob's mother, who came
in search of Rob. "He hasn't been home since he went to school this
morning," she said, "and I made sure he'd be here with you, Mr. Jasper;
so I looked in to see. But he doesn't seem to be here."

"Not just now, ma'am; but 'tisn't long ago he left. He had a bit of
dinner with me, and then he started off, bless his heart! to find a
place for me to move into when they turn me out of here. I believe he
has walked half over Helmstone at this job. He was at it yesterday, and
Phil too, in his spare time; they've taken it on themselves to find out
every shed there is, so that I might be fixed up again; but they won't
do it, they won't do it;" and Jasper sat down and relapsed into silence.

Mrs. Mellor stood, hardly knowing what to say. Of course she had heard
from the boys of Jasper's upset, and was sorry indeed for the old man;
so presently she ventured to say as much. "And I'm sure Phil and Rob
take it to heart dreadful. I don't know what they'd do without you, Mr.
Jasper."

Jonas turned and looked at his visitor. "I don't know what I should
do without them," he said. "They're wonderful children, those boys of
yours; and if it hadn't been for them, I'd never have known the Saviour
came seeking for me. Ah! you don't know what messages the Lord has sent
me through them; and when I get to heaven and see the dear Lord for
myself, I'll just thank Him that ever He sent them in my way, and I'll
ask Him to bless them always. I wonder now if they talk to you as they
do to me?"

Mrs. Mellor shook her head, and a tear ran down her cheeks. "They were
afraid, poor dears, to say much before their father; he would swear at
them so, though Phil often tried to read some of his Bible out loud;
but since my husband died they have sung some of their hymns and read
to me; only somehow it doesn't seem to have much meaning. It's all real
enough to them, and I only wish I was like them, for they are good
boys, and no mistake."

"Ah, Mrs. Mellor, you haven't got so many years of sin to look back
upon as I have; but the Lord has saved and forgiven me, and He'll do
the same for you. Look there!" and Jasper pointed to the Christmas
banner; that was the text that made it all plain to me. "'Unto you,'
that's me; 'this day,' that's now; 'is born a Saviour,' that's just
what I want; and it's for you too, Mrs. Mellor; and you ask the boys to
sing to you the hymns they sang to me on Christmas night, and I'm sure
He will do as much for you as He did for such a black sinner as me."

Just then Rob arrived, full of excitement because he had seen "the very
place that would do for Mr. Jasper." 'Twas much nicer than this, and
he must go in the morning and see it, and 'twas quite near the Mission
Hall, and would be lovely. And so he rattled on, trying to inspire his
old friend with his own eager expectancy.

But after Rob and his mother had gone, and Jasper was alone once more,
with his doors closed and the lamp alight, he shook his head and said
half aloud, "No, Rob, no; I'm too old to move. I don't know, I'm sure,
but 'twill all come right somehow." And then reaching down his Bible,
he opened it at its last page, and for a long time sat reading about
heaven. "And it's all for me; all ready for me," he whispered. "Lord
Jesus, I thank Thee that I'm ready too, washed and white."



CHAPTER XI.

THE HOME CALL.

THE next morning dawned bright and beautiful, and even Preece's Place
looked cheerful in the January sunshine, that was trying in vain to
find its way into Jasper's old shed; for the doors were closely shut,
so that only one tiny ray could penetrate through a crack.

Rob, who paid an early visit to his old friend, that he might take him
to see the new quarters, was astonished to find the place still closed,
and after repeated knockings (all of which were in vain) he turned
away, thinking that Jasper must have gone by himself to see the shed in
John Street, and would soon be back.

But two hours later Forbes, coming up to bring a receipt for the money
entrusted to him, found the doors still shut, and seeing that they were
fastened from the inside, he began to feel uneasy; so at last, after
knocking and calling in vain, he forced the door, and then going in,
he found the old man sitting indeed in his chair, his Bible open on
his knees at Rev. xxii, his eyes fixed upon the Christmas text—but the
spirit had fled! Whilst he sat reading about heaven, messengers from
heaven had come at the bidding of the King, and away from the dreary,
dismal shed had they borne him to the land that knows no change, no
night, no sorrow; and as the constable stood gazing at the lifeless
form, the soul of Jonas Jasper was in the presence of Jesus Himself,
and his eyes were seeing "the King in His beauty."

Laying his hand on the pulse that had ceased to beat, Forbes stood for
a moment awestruck, and then, though in no doubt as to what happened,
he ran quickly for a doctor, and finding one just outside, he brought
him in. But one glance at the rigid features was enough, and in few
words the surgeon confirmed Forbes' opinion.

"Of course this must be inquired into," he said; "but there is every
appearance of a most quiet, peaceful, sudden death—old age its probable
cause. I will attend and do all that is necessary when required;" and
away he walked, leaving Forbes alone in the presence of the dead.

Lifting his eyes for a moment, they fell on Rob's text, "He careth for
you," which only two days before he had repeated to the old man. "And
it's true," he said softly. "The Lord knew he couldn't stand the upset
of a move, and He cared so much for him that He's taken him right away
out of it all, to rest for ever with Himself."

No sooner had Forbes lodged the necessary information at the Police
Station, than the news of Jasper's sudden death soon spread through
Preece's Place and its neighbourhood. On inquiry it was found that no
one had entered the shed after Mrs. Mellor and Rob left on the previous
evening; and so Jasper's last words on earth had been of Jesus, as he
pointed a weary sinner to the Saviour whom he had found.

It was no easy matter to break the news to Rob; but it fell to Forbes
to do it, as he met the child just outside the shed, coming home from
school, to go in and see his old friend.

"You can't go in, Rob; Jasper isn't there."

"Hasn't he come back yet, Mr. Forbes?"

"No."

"Then I'm sure he won't be much longer, and I can go in and wait till
he comes."

Forbes laid his hand on Rob's head. "You'll have to wait a long, long
time, Rob; for he'll never come back any more. The Lord Jesus has sent
for him to-night, and he has left the old shed and gone right away up
to heaven."

For a moment the child stared, as if hardly comprehending the
policeman's words, and then all of a sudden he seemed to take in the
meaning. "Is my Mr. Jasper dead? Do you mean that?"

"Yes, my boy; he's with Jesus now."

In an instant Rob crouched down against the door, and bursting into a
passionate flood of tears, sobbed as though his heart would break; and
indeed, if such a thing were possible to a child, Rob was very near it
then. In vain Forbes tried to coax him away, and finding all effort
useless, he took him up in his strong arms and carried him, still
sobbing and shivering, home to his wife.

"Let him stay here a bit until I can send Phil round to him," he said,
telling her what had happened. "Poor little chap, it's a sad blow for
him!"

So for some time he lay in Mrs. Forbes' kind, motherly arms, asking
between his sobs, in piteous voice, if it was really true that his Mr.
Jasper was gone! But as she talked to him about heaven, and its glories
and joys, and told him that his old friend was so happy there, and
would be looking out for him to come too, the child was calmed, and
by-and-by, worn out with weeping, fell into a sweet sleep, and ere he
woke Phil had come to fetch him.

After all, he was the best comforter; and so, sadly and wearily the
brothers made their way back to Preece's Place, their hearts full of
sorrow at the unexpected loss of their old friend. And when, on the
way home, they passed the shed, all closed and silent, Rob shuddered
afresh, and creeping closer to Phil, burst again into tears.

"Shan't we ever go in there any more, Phil?"

"I expect not, Rob; you see 'twill be pulled down soon, and you know it
is very nice for Mr. Jasper not to have to turn out, and I expect Jesus
knew how 'twas troubling him, and so He took him right away, and we
must be very glad for him, Rob."

But Rob could find no comfort anywhere, and poor Mrs. Mellor was sorely
perplexed to know what to do with her tearful boys; but by-and-by she
reminded them of what Jasper had said only the night before—that they
must read to her, and sing to her, as they had done to him.

So Phil got out his Bible and read, and Rob tried to listen; but ere
long, wearied with his sorrow, he fell asleep, and so forgot for a
while the grief that had filled his heart. But Phil sat up talking
to his mother; the sudden death of the old man had touched her not a
little.

"To think that this time last night I was talking to him," she said,
"and now he's dead. It's enough to make one shiver, when you see how
soon anybody may be gone."

And so Phil, in his simple way, told her all he knew of God's plan of
salvation. "And if we come to Jesus, mother, and ask Him to forgive us,
He will, and He'll wash away all our sins, and then, if our sins are
all gone, we needn't be afraid to die."

"And how do you know that your sins are all gone, Phil?"

"Why, mother, because I asked Jesus to take them away, and He promised
to do it for every one who asks; and I'm sure He keeps His promises."

And when Phil had fallen asleep his mother lay awake, restlessly
tossing to and fro, recalling what her boy had said. There rose before
her the memory of a life-time's sin. Could all that be forgiven at
once? Nay, surely not. She must make herself a little better before she
could expect God to help her. But (and a shudder passed through her)
perhaps while she was trying to make herself better the call might come
to her, as it had to Jasper, and find her not ready. So, haunted by
fear, and yet inspired by hope, she lay thinking, thinking, thinking,
quite unconscious that the Saviour Himself was standing by her side,
unseen, indeed, but none the less really there, waiting to take the
burden of a life's sins away. She was very near the kingdom, for she
had seen herself a sinner, and er long would come the message to her
troubled heart, "Daughter, be of good cheer. Thy sins, which are many,
are all forgiven."



CHAPTER XII.

BRIGHTER DAYS.

FOR more than six weeks old Jasper had been lying at rest up on a sunny
slope in the Helmstone Cemetery; and in the meantime his shed was
pulled down, and men busily at work were digging out the foundations
for a new and improved block of buildings, to stretch right away from
Preece's Place to the adjoining street beyond. Forbes, acting on the
instructions given him by Jasper, had arranged everything; and after
paying two or three little debts and all funeral expenses, found a
nice balance of nearly £30 in hand for the boys. Consulting with Mr.
Armstrong, he decided to put it by for the present in the Post Office
Savings Bank, after buying a little clothing for the lads—an absolute
necessity, for Rob's feet were almost through to the ground, and his
trousers persistently refused to hang together any longer.

Of course any pressing needs must be met, for such surely would have
been Jasper's wish; but it would be nice to have a little money in
hand, to give the lads a start one day. Though indeed Phil seemed to
have made his start at Mr. Cross's, and was already raised a shilling
per week. Mrs. Mellor, too, had obtained two or three days' regular
work every week, so that altogether their prospect was brightening.

Time, the great healer, had already done wonders in soothing the sorrow
caused by Jasper's death, and Rob would stand watching with keen
interest all that was going on in the new building, forgetting for the
time the happy memories of the past associated with the spot. But when
he went to the cemetery, the old grief would wake up again; and many a
time had he been found lying on Jasper's grave, and sobbing as though
his little heart would break. But this was only sometimes; and when at
day or Sunday School he was the same bright, happy lad as before.

To him and Phil had come one great joy. Ever since Jasper's death their
mother had gone with them every Sunday evening to their much-loved
Mission Hall; she was getting quite known there now, and some of the
folk had been to see her.

[Illustration]

But one day who should come but Mr. Armstrong himself! Neither Phil nor
Rob was at home—much to their grief, when they heard he had been; but
it was Mrs. Mellor he wanted, and after a few words of kindly inquiry
he made known the purport of his visit.

"Mrs. Forbes is finding the work up at the Hall too much," he said.
"It's a large place altogether to keep clean, and it is so much used
that it needs constant scrubbing; so I came to see if you could give
her regular help, I mean in the way of the cleaning. Of course you
wouldn't be wanted every day; but I daresay altogether it might come
to nearly three days a week. At all events, I can offer you seven
shillings a week to do what is required in the time that will suit you
best."

Mrs. Mellor was delighted. "It's the very thing I want," she said; "and
I'll be only too thankful to do it; and then I think, perhaps, I might
move into a better place than this, and get things a little bit more
comfortable round me for my boys; for I was never used to being like
this."

"I thought as much," said Mr. Armstrong; and then gently and kindly he
drew from her the story of her life, and the burden of its sin, that
now lay so heavily upon her. "It is a burden," he said, when she had
finished; "but one that you needn't bear another moment, for Jesus
offers to take it from you now."

"That's what Phil says," she replied; "but I don't seem to see how."

"Look here, my friend," and taking from his pocket a Bible, Mr.
Armstrong opened it at Isaiah liii. 6, and read, "'All we like sheep
have gone astray.' Is that true of you?"

"Yes, indeed, sir."

"'We have turned every one to his own way;' and is that true too?"

"Ah, that it is, and no mistake."

"Very well, then you admit so far that God's Word is true. You don't
doubt it?"

"No, sir; it's perfectly true."

"Now then, listen to the end of the same verse: 'and the Lord hath
laid on Him (Jesus) the iniquity of us all.' Now is that true also, or
must we cut the verse in two, and take only the first part of it for
ourselves?"

The woman paused.

"God laid upon Jesus the burden of your sin—its guilt, its
punishment—and Jesus accepted it, and undertook to be responsible for
it all; so can't you trust it to Him? For, you see, a burden can't be
in two places at once, and if God has put it upon Jesus, He has taken
it away from you, and now, at this moment, He tells you that by His
blood He has paid the debt of your sin, and lifted from you its burden.
Will you believe Him or not? See for yourself what He says;" and
putting his finger on the verse, he pointed her to it.

For a moment she sat, as if hardly able to take it in, and then lifting
her eyes, which were filled with tears, to Mr. Armstrong, she said
tremblingly, "Yes, sir, if any of it is true, it is all true. I see it
now. I am still a sinner, but Jesus has had to suffer for it instead of
me!"

And so a twofold joy came into the dreary attic that day, and the
burden of sin and the burden of poverty were alike lifted from Mrs.
Mellor's life.

A few days more, and she with the boys had moved into small but clean
rooms, not far from the Mission Hall. Friends had provided some
additional furniture, and so amid brighter surroundings the winter
passed away, and spring filled the earth with gladness—a gladness that
found its way into the Mellors' home, and stayed there too. For it was
God Himself who put the gladness into their hearts—a joy that no man
could take from them—even His own presence and peace.

And so the years rolled on, and Phil's dream of being Mr. Cross's
shopman was realized. Step by step he rose, until by-and-by he stood
second only to the "master" himself; and folk did say that as Mr. Cross
had no son, there was no knowing but what Phil might have the business
one day.

Rob, whilst at school, showed such an ability for learning that his
master wanted him to go in for teaching and be his pupil teacher. And
it was then old Jasper's money came so handy to pay for books and fees;
and when the years of training and study were over, Rob obtained an
excellent appointment at a school only a few miles from Helmstone, so
that he could come over for his Sundays in the comfortable home which
he and Phil together kept for their mother; and could still attend the
much-loved Mission Hall, where he and his brother were teachers now,
instead of scholars, trying to tell others that old, old story which
had been such a power in their own lives.

Jasper's memory was still sweet and sacred to both, and his grave
(marked now by a tombstone which they had erected) often attracted
their steps thither; for now in happy prosperity they could never
forget the days of their childhood, when, amid so much that was hard
and dreary, they always found the sunshine of love and sympathy in
Jasper's old shed.



THE END.



Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London.






*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JASPER'S OLD SHED ***

Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
be renamed.

Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the
United States without permission and without paying copyright
royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™
concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may
do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
license, especially commercial redistribution.

START: FULL LICENSE

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project
Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at
www.gutenberg.org/license.

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
Gutenberg™ electronic works

1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your
possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
1.E.8.

1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this
agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™
electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the
Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual
works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting
free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™
works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily
comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when
you share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no
representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
country other than the United States.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear
prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work
on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the
phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed,
performed, viewed, copied or distributed:

  This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
  most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
  restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
  under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
  eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
  United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
  you are located before using this eBook.

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is
derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project
Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™
trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works
posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg™ License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format
other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official
version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website
(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain
Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the
full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works
provided that:

• You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
  the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method
  you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
  to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has
  agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
  within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
  legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
  payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
  Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
  Literary Archive Foundation.”

• You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
  you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
  does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™
  License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
  copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
  all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™
  works.

• You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
  any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
  electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
  receipt of the work.

• You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
  distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than
are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™
electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
cannot be read by your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right
of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
without further opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you “AS-IS”, WITH NO
OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in
accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™
electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or
additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any
Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™

Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
from people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will
remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future
generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
www.gutenberg.org

Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.

The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website
and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without
widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate

Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works

Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be
freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of
volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
edition.

Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
facility: www.gutenberg.org

This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.