CHAPTER VIII.

Oh! what a gleesome time Nannie had all the long summer day up so near

the blue heavens! There was a rapturous sort of joy in watching the

fleecy clouds as they played in the pure ether, and, while baby slept,

she would kneel down by the window with her head turned side-way upon

her arm, and look into the depths of the sky until she fancied she saw

the spirits beyond; and then her little soul would try to dream out the

mystery of being and immortality. She didn't think so much of this in

the damp dark cellar--every thing there seemed to draw her earthward;

but it was exalting, and refining, and purifying, to be up so near the

angels, and the change was manifested even in her face, which grew more

spiritual, and was really quite winning now.

Her happiness was almost perfect as she contrasted the sad past with the

bright present. There was only one thing more to long for, and that was

books. She could read very well, but all the literature she possessed

was Robinson Crusoe, which one of the ladies at the school had given

her, and that she had learned almost by heart, so that she sung page

after page to Winnie as she lulled her to sleep, and now she craved

something more. She was thinking so earnestly about it that she did not

hear Mr. Bond's knock, nor perceive that he had entered the room and

seated himself by the other window, until he touched her shoulder with

his cane across the table.

"Nannie," said he, as she started and asked his pardon for not noticing

him, "I've brought a book to lend you; would you like to read it?"

A book! Who could have told him that of all things in the world that was

what she most desired?

"Oh! thank you, sir," said she, as her eyes glistened for joy; "I'm so

glad of it, sir!" and she turned the leaves and looked at the

illustrations, while he watched her with a deep interest.

"She would know all that she need to know when she had read the Bible

and Pilgrim's Progress." So Mr. Bond thought. He had not noticed that

there was no Bible there. He forgot that there could be a person in the

world destitute of the precious Word of Life, and he would have gone off

without finding out Nannie's great need, if she had not reminded him of

it as she turned to the explanation of the allegory appended to the work

in her hand. "Oh! it tells about Heaven! doesn't it?" said she, looking

at her kind friend with a sparkling eye.

"Haven't you a Bible, Nannie?" asked he, seeking vainly for one about

the room.

"No, sir," replied the child. "We haven't had one for a long time. Miss

Earl gave me one at the school, but my father took it."

Poor soul! no food for thee, while the world is teeming with the blessed

Book! Tear off the gilt clasps, and the velvet bindings, and scatter the

healing leaves that are hidden within, all about among the people. Let

not one hungry one perish for lack of Heaven's bread while there is

enough and to spare lying all about useless! "Her father took it!" What

for? to learn the way to Paradise? Ah! no--to pawn for the hot liquid

that must drown him in perdition. And the dealer in the dreadful traffic

took it--dared to snatch from his fellow man the comforting words sent

unto him by a loving God, and to substitute instead the poisonous and

damning cup! Even Satan himself must loathe him! Mr. Bond sees it

all--he knows where the Book has gone. But Nannie shall have another,

and she must promise to study it every day.

"I'll send you one, Nannie," said he, "and a little stand to keep it

on--d'ye hear?" and the kind man hurried off to get the holy volume. To

think that he had not seen to that before! It was a moment of penitence

to good Mr. Bond.

The Elm Tree Tales · 第 8 / 36 章