PRAYER-MEETING IN PRISON.
“That is the first time I have seen you break down.”
“Yes, Pearson, I am heart-broken. I shall never forget Pat, not for the
sickness he feigned, but for the feeling that came over me when he was
praying. I have never prayed, but I am going to this day. And the very
next Sabbath I am going to start a prayer-meeting in this prison. If
it helps all as much as it did Pat, I will feel repaid for all these
mysterious voices and visions which we have heard and seen here. Besides,
it may lift up many a sad heart inside these walls, that could get no
help except through prayer.”
“You locked the door as you left the office, did you?”
“Only the outside door.”
“I see bundles in there. They belong to Pat. He has not gone.”
“Take a look into the room next the office, Pearson.”
“Oh, my God!”
“What? suicide?”
“No; praying.”
“Pearson, close the door.”
“I am after being through and I feel better. I have been praying to me
Father to help me find another job, or to get this one back for me.”
“Pat, your prayer is answered, once again. You may remain and do as you
have done. Outside of this little trouble, you have been a good, faithful
man, and I feel that you and Officer Pearson will from this day on be
faithful to the trust which is imposed in you, and that you will show
brotherly love and kindness toward each other and all your fellow-men. I
want you to be sure to be at prayer-meeting Sunday morning, and open the
meeting with prayer.
“I shall expect you, Pearson, to close the meeting with prayer. I will
take a hand at it myself, and I hope that we may hear the voices of all
in this prison, asking for help and guidance and peace.
“Now, Pat, see that all is right.
“Well, Pearson, I am glad to see you sitting there under different
circumstances, and I hope this will be a lesson for us all. Honesty is
always the best policy. If you follow that precept, you will never get
into trouble,” said the superintendent, addressing Mr. Pearson.
“Well, here is one good Irishman the rest of me life, and I will be after
being a Sunday-school teacher; I think that would bate being a gentleman
anny time. And now I’ll see if the officer has not forgot to put the poor
man that was brought in to work. Forgot? I know he did. I’ll be after
going and asking where will I take the poor fellow to work, and I’ll ask
mercy for him, for it means a job for life with him, poor fellow. I am
after passing the knowledge-seat. I will walk in and tell me business at
once. I got enough knowledge to do me at that resting-place.
“What do I see? The poor fellow that was turned out of here sitting in
the office? I will pretend not to know him, and make my business be known
and lave at once.
“Officer!”
“Yes. What is it, Pat?”
“You have been after forgetting to give the poor man his life job.”
“So I have, Pat. I will find a place in a trade where he will not have
to toil so hard, for it means a long time for him. I will take care of
that Monday morning, Pat. Don’t bother him. Let him get used to his new
clothes and room. You may go, Pat. I’ll take care of him Monday.”
“So you have come back to see us, have you, Clarence?”
“Yes, officer. I could not rest and know that my brother was here in
prison, all on my account. I am the cause of it all. I should have
written home after I left. I should have written to my dear mother. Then
I could have been notified when she died, and poor Oliver would not be in
this trouble. That is why I am taking all this disgrace upon myself.
“Brother, I am going to help you, but not in the way I asked you to be
helped at first. I am going to take you home now, and introduce you to my
family, and try to have a family reunion, in honor of the prodigal son’s
return—in honor of poor mother.”
“You may go now, Mr. Pearson. I can spare you for a few hours.”
“Come along, brother. Clasp my hand and we will walk hand in hand to my
home—or, rather, yours, and we will spend the rest of our days together.”
“Oh, how beautiful your voice sounds to me, Oliver! As I walk along by
your side I feel as if we were indeed beginning a new life.”
“By the way, we shall have a wedding soon. My daughter Amelia is to be
married to-night, at ten o’clock—yes. And we shall be there on time, I
see. The place is all aglow. I wonder—”
“Yes, and I wonder how I will be received.”
“You must be treated as my brother, and the family will do so. Music?
Yes, Gertie, playing ‘Home, Sweet Home.’ There is no place like home. Oh,
how true! We will surprise them. Just step in, Clarence.”
“Oh, papa, papa!”
“Yes, Gertie; I heard you playing just as I feel, that there is no place
like home.”
“Mother, see who is here.”
“My dear wife, I want you to meet my brother, as a gentleman—which he is,
and has been proved to be.
“And, Clarence, this is Gertie, my pet now, as I must soon give Amelia to
someone else.
“I hope that he will be as kind to you, Amelia, as your father has always
been.”
[Illustration: “THE PLACE IS ALL AGLOW.”]
“Father, you have been good and kind to me. You gave me all I ever asked
for, and I want you to forgive me for the way I treated you when you
were in trouble, I am truly sorry.”
“Yes; and, dear husband, I shall always look on that time as the mistake
of my life. For doing as I did I will ask you in the presence of your
brother, and mine also, to forgive me.”
“My dear family, you are all forgiven. Now I ask that you show love and
kindness to my dear brother and share our home with him—or, rather, thank
him for sharing his home with us.”
“We shall always treat you as one of the family, brother.”
“Oh, Uncle Clarence, we are going to have a wedding to-night! Sister
Amelia is going to get married to Mr. McHenry.”
“And, Uncle Clarence, I want you to stand up with us.”
“Gertie, go to the piano and play ‘We’ll Sin and Sorrow No More.’”