SETTING TO WORK.
WHEN Walter and Arthur were returning together next morning from their
early bath, Walter referred to the conversation of the previous evening.
"Have you thought at all about it, Arthur?" he asked.
"On and off I have thought about that sort of thing for a good while,"
said Arthur, reddening; "but I do not quite see what you want me to do
now."
"That I am going to explain to you all after breakfast; but there is
one thing that comes first by rights, and that is to remember the
opening words of our text."
"'Ye are not your own,'" assented Arthur.
"Yes; not our own at all. Servants to do the will of another. Are you
His or your own, dear Arthur?"
"I should like to be His, but I don't know yet," answered the boy in a
low tone.
"'Ask, and ye shall receive,'" said Walter earnestly; and no more was
said till they reached the farm.
When the children assembled at breakfast, to their surprise they found
a text, nicely painted, pinned by its four corners to their dining room
wall. They could all see it, for it was large; they could all read it,
for it was plain: "Ye are not your own. For ye are bought with a price:
therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are
God's."
"Who did it?" said Ada.
"I guess," said Isabel, looking at her eldest brother.
"It is a message for you all," said mamma gently. "But now, dears, to
breakfast, and we can talk about the text afterwards."
When the first clatter of knives and forks had subsided, and the cups
had been filled the second time, Walter began to explain his plans.
"You all know that there are many children down here, come like
yourselves for a summer holiday. Of these many, no doubt, are from
Christian families, and have been taught about God and the Bible as
you have. But there are others who have heard very little of Jesus, or
having heard, have not cared. Should we not like to reach even one of
these children who have never heard?"
Several sympathising eyes were raised to Walter's.
"I know we should; but I see the question on your lips—How? Well, there
are several ways; but the way that seems easiest to me is to try and
gather them together on the sands, and tell them about Jesus."
"Oh, I have read of that!" said Nellie, "But could you, Walter?"
"I think we could manage it all together."
"I could not do anything," said Ada decidedly; "I should hate to be
seen going about like that."
"Yes, I know it needs a little bit of self-denial at first; but if we
remember our text, that will help us," he answered, glancing at the
opposite wall.
"But we can't preach," said Arthur; "and you said you had something for
us all to do."
"So I have. Nellie can sing, Ada can sing, so can Isabel and Netta a
little; the rest can give round hymn papers, invite the children, and
join in looking pleased and happy to see them come."
"I can't," said Ada; "for I shall dislike it extremely."
"We shall see," answered her brother patiently; "meanwhile, Ada, think
of our text, dear, and try not to say anything to discourage the
others. And then we must pray."
"Pray?" said Arthur.
"For God's blessing on what we do; for His help to get the children
together; for His Holy Spirit to send the arrow to the dear little
hearts. When we get to the beach, I will set you all to work. I have
brought some hymn sheets with me."
Nellie felt the responsibility great of being considered "able to
sing," And as they all with beating hearts walked down to the shore,
she said to her brother, "I am afraid you count on me too much. I can
start the tune, or I will try to, but my voice is not very loud, and if
the children do not catch it up, I am afraid—"
"Don't be afraid," said Walter; "it will be sure to be all right, and
someone will be there, I daresay, who will help. Think of our text."
Nellie smiled, reassured, and they soon reached the beach, where Walter
set the children to work to make a circle on the sand. Tom's little
carriage was wheeled into one side of it, and while the children were
diligently digging a trench round the circle, Walter took a cane and
wrote on the smooth sand in the centre what he called "their text."
When this was done, he began inviting a few children who stood near
to help them. "We are going to have a little service," he said, "only
lasting half an hour, and we want you to come and sing a few hymns;
will you?"
Some of the children stared; others turned away; but one or two, who
had seen the same sort of thing at other places, joined very heartily,
and the circle was soon made, and some of the children began seating
themselves with their feet in the trench.
Mrs. Arundel had her camp stool close to little Tom, and she too would
be able to help the singing.
They were to begin at half-past eleven. The hymn sheets were handed
round; and when Walter had given out in a clear voice the number, and
read one verse of "A charge to keep I have," Nellie in rather trembling
tones set the tune.
If Ada had not loved Nellie she told herself that she would not have
joined, but in order to help her sister she did her best. And before
the end of the first verse, the children took it up, and the hymn went
well to the end.
Nellie found a lovely voice helping, close behind her, but was too
nervous to turn; but when they all sat down she caught a glimpse of
Miss Arbuthnot's dress, and guessed it was she who had sung so sweetly.
"Walter said we should find someone," thought Nellie thankfully; but
she had no time to think more, for Walter, who was standing close to
the upper end of the little circle, began in his pleasant voice—
"Now, children, can you all read our teat? It is upside down to a few
of you; but see, I have written it so as to be read by those at the
bottom, and I know it by heart. Let me see if you can all say it after
me—'Ye are not your own. For ye are bought with a price: therefore
glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's.'
"Now I shall only keep you half an hour altogether; and as we are going
to sing two hymns there will not be too much time, so I hope you will
all be very attentive, and be able to tell your mammas every word I say.
"'You are not your own!' Now whom do you belong to?"
He paused, and looked round the little circle.
"Some of you will say, I belong to mamma; some of you will say, I
belong to papa, or to my grandparents, or to whoever has the charge of
you. But whom do you belong to?
"It says here—can you read it?—'Your body and your spirit are God's.'
Yes, you belong to God; therefore you must serve Him! Some of you love
to please those who have the charge of you. Now do you not? How nice it
is to hear one who loves you say, 'That is a good boy!' 'That is a good
girl!' Yes, I know you do. But much, much more you will like to hear
God say to you, 'Well done, good and faithful servant!'
"YOU BELONG TO GOD! This is what I want you to remember to-day!
"There was once a little boy—he was a slave in South America—whose
master was very hard and cruel, often having him beaten when he had
done no harm, and teaching him many cruel and wicked ways.
"One day a traveller came to this hard master's plantation. He was
driven to take shelter there while a swarm of locusts passed over.
His horse refused to go a step further, and turning in at the gate,
he asked if he might remain there for a few hours. Leave was readily
given; for people are very hospitable in South America, and this little
slave was sent forward to put the stranger's horse in the stable.
"The traveller noticed the miserable plight of the poor boy, and gave
him a kind word, at which the boy looked up astonished. He pitied
the little slave, and afterwards, conversing with the master of the
plantation, offered to buy him.
"'What, Harry?' said the master. 'He is a rascal, as idle as can be!
But if you want him you shall have him, at my price; but you'll repent
it!'
"The traveller paid the price, and by-and-by went out to find his horse
and his slave. The boy was lying under a verandah; not attempting to
work, but thinking how he could be idle, and yet avoid a fresh beating.
"The traveller strolled up to him. 'Harry,' he said, 'why do you not
work?'
"'No good working, massa,' answered the boy sullenly. 'Harry work, gets
a beating; Harry no work, gets beating too. So Harry please 'self, and
no work.'
"'But I want you to untie my horse,' said the traveller.
"'Yes, massa,' said the boy, rousing himself a little at the mild tone;
'I get your horse for you.'
"'But you are mine, Harry; I have bought you!'
"'Yours, massa?' said the boy, leaping up. 'Yours? Why me not know dat;
me do anything in worl' for you, massa!'
"The traveller smiled. 'Will you, Harry? And why will you do anything
in the world for me?'
"''Cause massa's kind,' said the boy huskily; ''cause massa say nice
words; 'cause massa's bought me from my cruel old massa!'
"Yes, children, you are not your own; you are bought with a price! What
price? Is it money? No! Something much more precious than money! What
can it be?
"God has plenty of money, but that would not do for you! He had only
one precious thing that would do to buy you! What was it? For He gave
it! The Bible says, 'Bought with the precious blood of Christ!' It
was His own only Son! Yes; He gave His Son for all of you! Will you
spring up as Harry did, and say to God, 'I did not know that; I will do
anything in the world for you'?
"Now all repeat our text once more: 'Ye are not your own. For ye are
bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body, and in your
spirit, which are God's.'"
By this time quite a little group had gathered together; but most of
the inner circle had been too absorbed to notice. They now sang another
hymn, which was well taken up; and after two or three words of prayer
to ask God's blessing, the little party broke up, just as the clock
near the beach struck twelve.
"Was it so very dreadful?" Walter said to Ada; but she turned away
hastily, and would have nothing to say about it.
The children now dispersed to their digging or bathing; Walter and
Arthur pushed Tom off on a promised expedition; and Miss Arbuthnot sat
down by Nellie and Mrs. Arundel.
"Thank you for helping us so nicely," said Nellie. "We all felt it
rather an ordeal, never having done such a thing before; but—"
"So it was; and it only shows what may be done with a little courage."
"Yes; and Walter has so much. He is truly brave."
"Your brother?"
"My own dear brother!"
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