CHAPTER X._Captain John's Adventures; or, The Story of a Fatherless Boy

THE CONCLUSION.

‘Thou shalt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee.’

The joyful day arrived at last when our friend John was rewarded

for his industry and honesty. He was the owner and commander of the

‘Sally.’ Captain Sam was so gratified that he gave a great dinner

on the occasion. But there was no one more pleased with John’s fair

prospects than his friend Antonio. He gave thanks aloud in the fulness

of his heart, clasped John in his arms, hugged Harry, and at last

fairly cried for joy. The old sailor did not, however, long enjoy the

pleasure of working under his young captain. Being exposed to a heavy

rain, he took a severe cold, which settled on his lungs; and when

spring came, with its sweet breezes and warm sun, Antonio was not able

to enjoy them.

John brought him home, where his mother and sisters nursed him tenderly

through his long illness, and he devoted to him all the time he could

spare from his business; for it revived the sick man’s spirits to see

John’s face.

Many an hour through the summer did the young man pass by the bedside

of the suffering Christian, reading to him the precious promises of

God, and uniting with him in praise and prayer.

‘It was you,’ said Antonio, ‘that showed me the way to Jesus. Oh! that

reading of the Bible--it was my salvation!’

When the leaves began to fall before the winds of autumn, the old

sailor was called home to rest. In his last moments he clasped the hand

of John, and employed his dying breath in blessing his ‘own boy,’ as he

had always called his young friend.

John followed Antonio to the grave with sincere grief. He erected a

stone to his memory. It had only his name ‘Antonio’ engraven on it, but

that was sufficient for John’s heart; and there was no one else to care

for the poor sailor who rested in that humble grave. But precious in

the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints. However humble may

be the Christian’s lot on earth, or obscure his last resting-place, he

has a happy home in heaven. A few moments in that blessed world will

make us forget all the sorrows of a long life of trouble.

John, or Captain John as he is now called, still sails in the ‘Sally,’

and has as much work as he can do. He has bought a comfortable house in

a pleasant suburb, where he has settled his mother and sisters. It is

painted white, and the porch is shaded with sweet roses. It looks like

a cottage of content, and it is so indeed. Mrs Leddam and John do not

forget their dear Henry, nor their old friend Antonio, but they hope to

meet them at last; and while they enjoy their quiet home, they often

unite their hearts and voices in thanking that merciful God who had

thus kindly guided and blessed the poor fatherless boy.

WHAT A LITTLE BOY CAN DO.

‘I wish, I wish, I wish,’ said a little boy, who awoke early one

morning, and lay in bed thinking; ‘I wish I was grown up, so as to

do some good. If I was governor, I’d make good laws; or I’d be a

missionary; or I’d get rich, and give away so much to poor people; but

I am only a little boy, and it will take me plenty of years to grow

up.’ Was he going to put off doing good till then? ‘Well,’ he said to

himself while he was dressing, ‘I know what I CAN do. I can be good;

that’s left to little boys.’ Therefore, when he was dressed, he knelt

and asked God to help him to be good, and try to serve Him all day with

all his heart, and not FORGET. Then he went down stairs to finish his

lessons.

No sooner was he seated with his clean slate before him, than his

mother called him to run into the wood-house for his little brother.

He did not want to leave his lesson, yet he cheerfully said, ‘I’ll go,

mother;’ and away he ran. And how do you think he found ‘bubby?’ With

a sharp axe in his hand. ‘I chop,’ he said; and quite likely the next

moment he would have chopped off his little toes. The little boy only

thought of minding his mother; but who can tell if his ready obedience

did not save his baby brother from being a cripple for life?

As he was going on an errand for his mother, he saw a poor woman whose

foot had slipped on the newly-made ice, and she fell; and in falling

she had spilled her bag of beans and basket of apples, and some wicked

boys were snatching up her apples and running off with them. The

little boy stopped and said, ‘Let me help you to pick up your beans

and apples,’ and his nimble fingers quickly helped her out of her

mishap. He only thought of being kind; he did not know how his kind act

comforted the poor woman long after she got home, and how she prayed

God to bless him.

At dinner, as his father and mother were talking, his father said

roughly, ‘I shan’t do anything for that man’s son; the old man always

did his best to injure me.’ ‘But, father,’ said the little boy, looking

up into his father’s face, ‘does not the Bible say we must return good

for evil?’ The little boy did not know that his father thought of what

his son had said all the afternoon, and said within himself, ‘My boy is

more of a Christian than I am; I must be a better man.’

When he came home from school at night, he went to the cage and found

his dear canary-bird dead. ‘Oh, mother! and I tended birdie so, and I

loved him so, and he sang so sweetly;’ and the little boy burst into

tears over his poor favourite. ‘Who gave birdie’s life, and who took

it again?’ asked his mother, stroking his head. ‘God,’ he answered

through his tears, ‘and He knows best;’ and he tried to hush himself.

A lady sat in a dark corner in the room. She had lost her two birdies;

and though she hoped they had taken angels’ wings and gone to nestle

in the heavenly land, she would rather have her little sons back to

her nest again. But when she beheld the little boy’s patience and

submission to his Father in heaven, she said, ‘I too will trust Him,

like this little child.’ Her heart was touched, and she went home with

a little spring of healing gushing up there, and she became henceforth

a better mother to the children yet left to her.

When the little boy lay on his pillow that night, he thought, ‘I am too

small to do any good; but oh, I do want to be good, and to love the

Saviour who came down from heaven to die for me. I do want to become

one of the heavenly Father’s dear children.’

The heavenly Father’s children are sometimes called children of light;

and does it not seem as if beams of light shone from this little

child, warming, blessing everybody that came in his way? Who will say

he did not do good?

[Illustration]

_A NEW BOOK FOR GIRLS AND BOYS_

MILESTONES

AND