The Story of Jessie
o ask her if she could do any errands, or anything else for her, and very, very glad Miss Patch was, many a time, to be sav
h he and Jessie loved these visits of hers. More than once, too, when her husband was aw
n, or by the fireside, with her grandfather. Her tears fell as she told of it, and her deep grief broke out uncontro
school, or to church since," sh
me write to them and tell them I am well and-and safe, and-and not so very unhappy; and I wouldn't mind so much if I knew how they were, but granny was ill, and I know granp would feel it dre
Patch in a husky voice. The cruelty of it all m
peace and quietness-but, oh, Miss Patch, they loved me so, it must have nearly broken their hearts! And-and I love them so, I feel
e told in the Bible to obey your God and your earthly father, and God must have sent you here for some good purpose, dear. Perhaps to teach you
y life a li
the weak
health and st
my neigh
er of the world; and, oh, my dear, you have such chances here. And if you go on trusting and hoping, littl
to her old friend. "Do you reall
f it, dear;
iss Patch, couldn't I have a little Sunday-school for Charlie, just like granp had for me? I couldn't te
Charlie's room, as a rule, but I do believe that sometimes you might both come up to me. If he were carried up very carefully and laid on my bed I feel sure it would not hurt him, a
all we begin next Sunday? Oh, do, please! and may I go down and tell Charlie? He will be so glad. Thank you ever
filled him with joyful excitement. Mrs. Lang was pleased, too. Anything that gave Charlie pleasure was s
e they made. Tom Salter knew, though, for having met Mrs. Lang one day struggling up the stairs with Charlie in her arms, wrapped in blankets, he insisted on carrying him up for her,
oal up the stairs, or a pail of water; and many a time, of a Saturday night, he cleaned several pairs of the lodgers' boots for her in readiness for
ls cooked and carried to their rooms mornings and evenings, their rooms swept and dusted, their boots cleaned, and a hundred little attentions, and
ties. Fortunately, Jessie liked housework, and Mrs. Dawson might well have been proud of her pupil, could she
which used to be so dirty and neglected, were now kept swept and whitened
soon the months had become a whole year. Jessie could not believe
wept, and longed for her as she did for them. Sometimes, when the wind howled, or some one played
grieving. Miss Patch had said, "Have faith and trust and all will come right some day," and Jessie did try to have faith, and to trus
y life a li
veth jo
bloom in na
its place
and to do what she could, and the result was t
o, and her mother, she fancied, was fond of her in her own quiet, cold way. At any rate, she never beat her, as her father did, or scolded and bullied
the truth dawned on her was one Sunday, when he said languidly that he thou
could only stand and stare at him. Then, with a su
sly, and Charlie shook his head, but with tears
she asked presently, longing to rouse and
think it would be nice to stay quiet, just by ourselves, this aftern
; "but-but I had better go up and tell Miss P
e wanted to be alone, away from him for a moment, t
e is worse, he seems so quiet, and so tired, and-and-Oh, Miss
tle comfort to offer. She had long had grave fears, and though
"When these fogs are gone, and the spring comes, and the sunshine,
d days, don't we? Charlie may be much better to-morrow; we must try to keep his spirits up, and make him as cheerful and happy as we c
him. He never again went up to Miss Patch's room to Sunday-school, so Miss Patch came down to him, and read or sang to him, just as he wishe
us. We can only help and strengthen him for the last hard steps
oss his own wet eyes. "'Tisn't his journey that'll be the hardest and stormiest, I'm thinking," added Tom, "'tis those he'll leave behi
faster. "I can't, I can't," she murmured, "but y
er," he said one evening, when she came to get him ready for t
she cried, in sudd
mother?" h
ak my heart-you are all I have
they think she is very unhappy and badly treated, and- and, mother, I want you to try and get father to let Jessie go back to them again, they must be so dreadfully sad about her. I often think about them-I can't help
speechless, stricken suddenly numb and
ou go away'?" Her lips could scarcely form the last words, for she knew as well as he could tell her. It had come suddenly
bed. "You ain't going, you shan't! Charlie, you shan'
d I'll tell God all about how you have had to work, an
t go! Oh, my dear, my
, but I want you to come too. You will, won't you, mot
intly, and then burst into a
s and violets, and pure little daisies, Charlie took the last steps
m he had loved-his mother, and Jessie, Miss Patch and Tom Salter-gathered in the little bare, qu
n lines of pain they had worn hitherto; and, while they all knelt around his bed, she said a few simple prayers, such as went straight to their sad hear
oved, sleep an
ead upon thy S
ll, but Jesus l
-nig
the spell and the sweet singing, or lose one of the beautiful words. Throu
t again befor
spotless robes
w, even as w
-nig
. Then one by one they rose and, b
Charlie, 'good-nig