standing behind the vicar's chair. "I went round to every one this
morning. You must take the purse, Ned Franks, if it be but to throw it
away!"
John Sands, who had a high sense of decorum, looked aghast at his wife
thus venturing "to put in her word" in the vicar's own study; but the
clerk only attempted to stop her by a faintly murmured "My dear!"
"No, indeed, I will never throw away money so kindly, so generously
given," said Franks. "Pray, sir," he continued, addressing Mr. Curtis,
"let the contents of the purse go towards repairing the almshouses in
Wild Rose Hollow. I and my wife have everything that we need, and I
think that I can answer for Persis that this is the way in which she
would best like the money to be spent."
There was a little murmur through the circle of villagers, in which
admiration of the sailor's generosity was mingled with something like
dissatisfaction at his giving everything away. Nancy said, in a very
audible whisper, "They could have had their trip to the sea-side." Mrs.
Curtis, who had hitherto remained a silent though interested spectator,
now spoke.
"Perhaps all parties will be gratified by a compromise," said the lady;
"let half of the contents of the purse be contributed by Franks to the
object for which he has pleaded and worked so hard, and let him satisfy
his friends here by using the other half for a little holiday-trip for
himself and his wife, when his pupils for a time give up their studies
for gleaning."
The proposal of the lady gave universal satisfaction, and when Ned
Franks and his happy wife had quitted the vicar's house, the loud
ringing, joyous cheer which greeted them from the boys who had been
waiting outside went as warm to their hearts as the praise of their
pastor, and the practical token of the loving esteem of their neighbors.
When the sound of cheers had died away, and all the shaking of hands
and exchange of words of kindness were over at last, Franks and his
wife, thankful and happy, turned towards their own home, whilst
neighbors and boys dispersed to theirs. For several minutes neither
husband nor wife spoke a word; perhaps each understood too well what
was passing in the mind of the other for any words to be needful. At
length the silence was broken by Ned.
"Persis," he said, with emotion, "I think I'm more humbled than exalted
by all this kindness, and all this praise. How our friends judge by the
outside! It is God alone who reads the heart. How little they guess
what a struggle with evil was going on here," Ned laid his hand on his
breast, "and that not forty-eight hours since!"
"God gave you the victory," said Persis, softly.
"He helped me in the hour of temptation," said Franks; "and when
the enemy of souls takes advantage of my weakness, and sends his
fire-ships again to set this impatient spirit in a blaze, may I be
enabled to be watchful and vigilant, and steer my onward course in the
safe track left by Him who was _meek and lowly in heart_!"
My little story is almost ended. I shall not linger over any
description of the well-earned holiday-trip, which was greatly enjoyed
by Franks and his wife. The almshouses in Wild Rose Hollow were put in
most perfect repair before winter, and each one had a beautiful porch.
The work of Ned and his "jovial crew" was helped forward by the ready
purse of the new baronet. Sir Claudius never forgot that he was the
minister of the gospel, as well as the lord of the manor.
I will but give a short glimpse of the party of village boys gathered
together on the following Christmas day in the school-room, not for
study, but to partake of a substantial feast provided for them by Sir
Claudius. The large room was richly decked out with wreaths of bay and
holly, bunches of mistletoe, and sprigs of laurel. Even blind Sophy had
helped to form the garlands; for the long-cherished wish of Benoni had
been gratified at last, and Isaacs had brought him and his adopted
sister to spend their Christmas at Colme. The preparations for the
banquet had been made by Persis, with Norah and Nancy Sands as her
cheerful assistants, while Benoni, proud of the charge, had insisted on
taking care of the baby.
"What a different Christmas this is from my last!" thought Nancy, with
a humbling recollection of having made the last anniversary of her
Lord's birth an occasion for plunging into mad and sinful excess! Such
memories but deepened her thankfulness to Him who had snatched her from
the whirlpool of destruction.
"What a different Christmas this is from the last!" observed Benoni,
looking up with a glad smile into the face of Persis, his first friend
in Colme, and still the one most tenderly loved. "Last Christmas we
were in London, and there was such a yellow fog that we could not see
to read without a candle, and we had no candle to light! and we should
have stood shivering round the fire, only there was no fire to stand
round! And when we came home from church, we were hungry enough for our
Christmas dinner, only," the boy added, with a laugh, "dry bread and
cold tea didn't look much like Christmas fare!"
"You must have had a sad time of suffering, then, dear Benoni!"
"It would have been sad indeed, except that the Lord was with us in our
trouble, as he is now in our joy!"
"Ah! my boy," said Ned Franks, who had overheard the last observation,
"that is the secret of having life's voyage a safe and a happy one. It
is when the Master is with us that we are guided through the rocks and
the shoals, and kept from running aground. It is having the Master with
us that turns the storm into a calm, so that the winds and waves are
still. And so, when the children of God reach the heavenly shore, it
will only be because the Master was with them, and hath brought them at
last, through his power and his love, unto their desired haven."
THE END.
Transcriber's Note
Obvious typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected.
Hyphenation has been made consistent throughout.
Footnotes have been moved to the end of the chapter.
Blank pages before illustrations have been removed.
Emphasised text is shown thus:
_italics_