## The Project Gutenberg eBook of Jasper's old shed, and how the light shone in

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Title: Jasper's old shed, and how the light shone in

Author: A. M. Coker

Release date: June 23, 2023 [eBook #71029]

Language: English

Original publication: United Kingdom: The Religious Tract Society, 1891

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JASPER'S OLD SHED, AND HOW THE LIGHT SHONE IN ***

Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.

#

##

#### "PLEASE, MR. JASPER, I'VE COME FOR OUR GOODS."

# JASPER'S

# OLD SHED

## AND

## HOW THE LIGHT SHONE IN

### BY

### A. M. COKER

#### Author of "Crookside Lads," etc.

#### LONDON

#### THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY

#### 4 Bouverie Street & 65 St. Paul's Churchyard

## CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. THE SHED AND ITS MASTER

II. LOOKING BACK

III. A NEW DISCOVERY

IV. TROUBLED THOUGHTS

V. LESSONS FROM RAGS

VI. PHIL GETS A START

VII. THE CHRISTMAS MESSAGE

VIII. THE SUDDEN CALL

IX. JASPER'S PROMISE

X. JASPER'S TROUBLE

XI. THE HOME CALL

XII. BRIGHTER DAYS

## JASPER'S OLD SHED

### CHAPTER I.

#### THE SHED AND ITS MASTER.

"JONAS JASPER, general and marine store-dealer. Best prices given, no reasonable offer refused. N.B.—Families waited upon." * Such was the sign-board that for more than forty years had swung over the entry to that old shed in Preece's Place where Jonas Jasper carried on his business. Everybody knew him, and his shop too; for he was by far the oldest inhabitant, not only of the street, but of the neighbourhood, which comprised all the poorest and lowest part of the town of Helmstone, a well-known and much-frequented watering-place on the south coast.

* N.B.—nota bene

It required some little courage to penetrate into the dismal and dirty shed afore-mentioned; but Jasper was generally to be found somewhere near the entry, behind one of those three old barrels that had stood there ever since he began business. It was an understood fact now that the barrels were not for sale.

"Why, I should be quite lost without 'em," he used to say; "they be very handy for my old back to lean against, and when I'm tired of sitting by one, why, I've got two more to choose from." And so, while the sundry heaps of rags and bones, rusty iron and empty bottles and waste paper, etc., were constantly changing owners, the barrels remained in their original position, looking almost like sentries of the establishment.

There was a small room at one end of the shed, reached by a ladder, and this served as a sleeping-place for the old man. And here, amid these surroundings, had he lived for forty years, managing somehow or other to make a living in a generally honest way.

It was a fresh, bright morning in October, and, for a wonder, a ray of sunshine had found its way into the dismal shed, where Jasper, seated against his foremost barrel, was reading a newspaper, when a child's voice aroused him.

"Please, Mr. Jasper, I've come for our goods."

The tone was familiar, and with a look of genuine pleasure Jonas turned to see little Rob Mellor standing at his side. A strange, old-fashioned child he was, though barely eight years old; but, in spite of the ragged clothes and neglected appearance, there was a wonderful attraction about the little fellow, that even Jonas had been unable to resist, ever since he first knew him, some two years before.

"Ah, Rob, is that you back again?"

"Yes, Mr. Jasper."

"Well, I was thinking only last week it was about time for you to turn up; and where's Phil, and the rest of your party?"

"Well, Mr. Jasper, father and mother are coming to-morrow, so they say, and they sent Phil and me on to get things straight; only Phil's gone to the station now to carry a bag, and he thinks he'll get threepence for that; because, you see, Mr. Jasper, we've got to keep ourselves to-day and to-morrow, and we've taken our old room down at No. 20; and so I've come for our goods."

"And where have you been this turn, eh?"

"Please, Mr. Jasper, we've tramped about as usual, through Hampshire and Wiltshire, and lately we've been fruit-picking and hopping in Surrey and Kent; and mother has sold things out of her basket, and Phil and I have sung; and so we've got along nicely. But I'm oh so glad to be back home again."

"Home, eh? And is that what you call Helmstone?"

Rob was silent for a moment, but then replied slowly,—

"Well, you see, Mr. Jasper, 'tisn't Helmstone so much as you and the Mission Hall."

Jasper laughed.

"A queer mixture," said he. "However, I'm real glad to see you back, Rob. Sit down a bit till I've finished my pipe, and then we'll see to your chattels."

Quickly Rob obeyed, and curling himself up against one of the barrels, sat, looking supremely happy to be once more in the company of his old friend. For they were fast friends, Rob and Jasper, in spite of the nearly seventy years that lay between them. Perhaps, if the truth were told, that child could do more with the old man than any one living. Phil, too, was a favourite, but Rob stood first in Jasper's affection; and it was a real pleasure to him when the cold weather put an end to the Mellors' wandering life, and brought them back to that wretched attic in Preece's Place which Rob had called "home."

Poor little lad! Never yet had he known the real meaning of the word. It was a hard life that he and Phil led; up and down the country those children tramped, from May to October, sleeping where they could, and depending for a livelihood on what they begged or earned by the way, or what mother sold out of her pedlar's box. They never quite understood where father got money from; sometimes he seemed to have quite a lot. But they never dared ask where it came from, and Phil was always afraid it was not honestly gained.

No one who saw Stephen Mellor could doubt that he had seen better days; and sometimes Phil, who was nearly thirteen, would ask his mother if he was dreaming, or whether he really could recall a comfortable home away in the North. But she never satisfied his curiosity—only turned the conversation, and told him he always had such strange ideas; though Phil was sure the tears came in mother's eyes when he asked her; and then she would bid him say no more.

The love between the two boys was very strong and true. Phil was Rob's hero, Rob was Phil's charge; and Jonas Jasper was the friend of both. It was a strange thing that he should have taken such a fancy to the lads, for Jonas was reckoned anything but sociable among his neighbours; yet there was an exception even to this rule, and for two years now the old man and the children had been the fastest friends. Their quaint ways amused him, and nothing pleased him better than to see them come into his shed, and curl themselves up on the ground against the barrels.

"It's so nice there are three of them," Rob would say, "because that's one each. Anybody would think you had got them on purpose for us, you know."

And so now the happy intimacy was renewed for another winter; and Rob, sitting there, telling Jonas a summer's adventures, forgot all the hardships of the past in the happiness of the present.

It was not long before Phil joined them, as glad as Rob to be there again, but in no mood to sit down.

"No, no, Mr. Jasper, not yet. I've got some shopping to do. Look here!" and opening his hand he displayed a shilling. "Wasn't it fortunate? the gentleman whose bag I carried hadn't anything smaller, except a penny. I told him I'd go for change, but his train was just off, so he gave me this. And now, Rob, you and I will invite Mr. Jasper to dinner; only, as our room is not ready, perhaps he will allow us to dine here."

Rob clapped his hands in glee; but Jonas shook his head, though a smile crossed his face, at the boy's dry speech.

"You keep what you've got," he said. "My dinner has been ready since yesterday; see here!" and reaching down a plate from a shelf that hung near, he exhibited a black pudding and a hunch of bread.

But Phil was off, and presently returned with three pieces of cold cooked fish, a loaf of bread, and a can of hot coffee; and seating himself on the ground he held up his change.

"See here, fivepence to go on with; sevenpence spent; fish threepence, coffee twopence, bread (it's stale) twopence. Who says I don't know how to go to market? Now, Mr. Jasper, you lend us a knife, and we'll begin. But first we'll thank Jesus for giving us this;" and in a moment the two boys had bared their heads, while Phil, in simple words, asked a blessing on their meal.

Jonas sat watching them with a strange expression on his face; he had seen them do the same many times before, for they would never eat a meal without giving thanks. But somehow those boys seemed the only link between him and God. He was no infidel; there was a God, for certain, but he never thought of Him, except when, as now, the lads spoke to or of Him. And it was a strange sensation, there, in that dark shed, to be, as it were, suddenly brought to think about Him, by a few simple words like that.

"You don't suppose the Almighty is any the wiser for what you've said in this hole, do you?" he asked one day. And never had he forgotten the astonished look on Phil's face.

"Why, Mr. Jasper, God is here, close by; and we needn't have spoken out loud for Him to hear."

"God is here," and Jonas looked round the shed with its dirt and disorder, as though the thought was not altogether pleasant. A God far off was on the whole preferable to a God so very near; for it was only in His power Jasper thought of Him. God in Christ, a pitying, present, loving Saviour, was altogether unknown, and so, undesired.

A merry party were the three over their dinner. Jasper had to share the fish, and then his pudding came as second course, after which they all adjourned to the far end of the shed, in search of the Mellors' furniture, which he was obliging enough to store for them during their absence. And indeed it did not take up much room—an old mattress, two or three pieces of bedding, a couple of chairs, one or two stools, some crockery, a kettle, and an old box which did duty for a table; these comprised the whole of the family possessions.

##

The boys were not long in carrying the lot across to the attic, which happened to be untenanted again just when they wanted it. And so, in a settled resting-place once more (and that place Helmstone), the boys were in the highest spirits; forgetful of the past, fearless for the future, living in the present joy of Jasper's friendship, and full of simple trust in a loving Saviour who always cared for them.

### CHAPTER II.

#### LOOKING BACK.

FAR away from the sea front, with its fashionable crowd of visitors and pleasure-seekers, and its splendid terraces, where the wealthy and the worldly lived, there stood an old "gone-down" street (perhaps the oldest in Helmstone), with high, narrow houses on both sides, that so shaded each other as to allow very little sunshine to find its way in. But half-way down on the right-hand side there was a break in the regular row, and a new, attractive building stood out in striking contrast to its dismal surroundings. The John Street Mission Hall was indeed as bright a place as it looked, and ever since its erection, some six years before, it had been a centre of life and love and blessing. Indeed, it quite woke up the old sleepy street, for there was always something going on in one or another of its cheery rooms—mothers' meetings and men's classes, night schools, temperance gatherings, or mission services. The doors were nearly always open, and not only so, but inside the doors there was a welcome for every one who came.

As Phil expressed it one day, "At most places they'll put up with you; but at John Street they seem to want you."

Yes; Phil was right. The sinful, the weary, the wandering, the lost, were "wanted" at John Street, and every one who set foot inside the building found himself surrounded with an atmosphere of love that was difficult to resist; for the workers were men and women whose hearts God had touched, and who, through the love of Jesus to their own souls, were, like Him, full of love for sinners.

Perhaps it was a wise move to make Forbes the policeman caretaker of the premises; for although underneath the coat of blue there beat as warm and tender a heart as could be found, yet his tall, commanding presence and somewhat stern appearance had a beneficial effect; and dire mischievous or riotous, bent on disturbance, were oftentimes restrained when they remembered that the hall-keeper was a "bobby."

One great feature of the work carried on there was a free breakfast, given every Sunday morning to a certain number of destitute people, who were expected, and indeed almost obliged, to remain for a short gospel meeting afterwards. It was Forbes who first told the Mellor boys about it. Finding them asleep in an entry one Sunday morning, as he was going home from "night duty," he roused them, and soon heard from Phil how father and mother had "gone away yesterday, and locked the door," so that the poor lads were obliged to sleep where they could. "But we've been quite comfortable, sir; because, you see, we found an old sack, and it kept us so warm."

Rob looked rather frightened at the tall policeman who thus invaded their solitude; but Phil, who never seemed afraid of anybody, not even his father, met the constable's searching gaze with an unwavering look in those clear, truthful eyes, that were such a wonderful feature of his face.

"Humph! I should think you wouldn't mind some breakfast?"

"Indeed, sir, we should be very glad; for I'm afraid father won't be back just yet; he generally comes home after dark."

Forbes laughed at the boy's innocence, and murmured to himself, "Dark, eh? one of your night birds, I reckon;" but bidding the lads follow him, he led them, not to the police station, as Rob feared, but to the Mission Hall, where, although it was still early, some four or five people were busily engaged preparing breakfast.

With just a word to one of them, Forbes left the boys, and soon they found themselves seated by the stove, eating thick slices of bread and butter, drinking hot coffee, and supremely happy in the good fortune that had brought them there.

It was a wonderful Sunday for Phil and Rob; they stayed there nearly all day, for the "after-breakfast" service was followed by Sunday School, both morning and afternoon, and this again by an evening mission service, to all of which they remained, hearing, almost for the first time in their lives, the old, old story, of Jesus and His love. Their teacher too, how kind he was! and how interested to know all about them, and where they lived!

"And now, boys, you can come up here every evening; there will always be something going on, and you will generally find me here; I'm Mr. Armstrong, so good-bye! I shall look out for you to-morrow; and then we'll have some singing, and a talk all round."

Hand in hand they went away when the last meeting was over—away from the warmth, and the cheeriness and the love of the Mission Hall, into the coldness and dreariness and poverty of that attic room in Preece's Place. But a very real happiness was in their hearts that night, for they had heard of a Father who loved them dearly, of a Saviour who cared for them always, of a Friend who would never leave them; and in simple childlike trust they believed it all, and that night lisped their first prayer to their Father in heaven.

All this had happened two years ago now, and the long summer wanderings took the boys away from Helmstone for months together; but no sooner did winter put an end to their journeys, and bring them back, than Phil and Rob would be found at the Mission Hall the very first night of their return.

Sharp beyond their years, they had learned a great deal when there. God was to them so very real. But this had come home to the boys in different ways. The absorbing thought in Phil's mind was God's intense hatred of and detection of sin, in every shape and form; while to Rob, God in His wonderful constant personal love was his constant joy. So they helped each other, and Phil's tender conscience was often a safeguard to Rob, while his simple confidence in the love of Jesus was a comfort to his elder brother.

But there was one great and mutual trouble: never yet had they succeeded in persuading Jonas Jasper to go with them to John Street.

"Not yet, boys, not yet; maybe I'll go one day, but it isn't much in my line."

This was always his answer, and the lads were discouraged.

But they had told Mr. Armstrong about it, and he was going to pray that God would bring him, and they were to pray about it too; and so it was quite certain Jasper would come before long.

As to their father, it was no use to ask him; he only swore if they mentioned it. But there was one comfort; he didn't hinder their going, only they weren't to bother him about it. Mother had been once or twice, and said it was all very nice; but somehow nothing seemed to give her pleasure or pain. There was a settled, cold, hopeless, indifferent air about her, that seemed to tell of a life out of which had been crushed all joy and hope and even feeling.

Amid these cheerless surroundings, and in this loveless home, Phil and Rob had been brought up, chilled, cursed, uncared for—nay, not that, for a Father in heaven was watching over them in infinite love, and their young lives were precious in His sight, for they were His children, and "of such is the kingdom of heaven."

### CHAPTER III.

#### A NEW DISCOVERY.

A COLD, cheerless November afternoon, and the day which had begun with fog was ending in rain; but it was Sunday, and so the doors of Jonas Jasper's shed were shut, and he at the farther end was sitting over his stove, which managed to throw an almost cheerful glow on the dismal surroundings. Perhaps he could hardly have told you why he "shut shop" on Sundays. Certainly it was from no thought of keeping holy the Sabbath day, for God and His law were nothing to Jonas; but it was a comfortable thing sometimes to shut the doors, and keep warm and quiet, and in his line of business there wasn't much doing. And then, too, when nobody was peering in and out, he could count over his savings, that were so slyly stowed away in that old pickle jar up in the corner. Not that they amounted to much; but still there was enough to keep Jonas from the workhouse yet a while, even if he "retired from business," as folk say. That was the one dread of his life—lest he should end his days as a pauper. But of the afterward of those days he never thought, or of the moment when pauper and prince alike should stand before God in judgment, to give an account, not of poverty or of riches, but of how they had treated the Lord Jesus Christ, whom God had sent to save sinners.

And so this afternoon, as usual, the money had been counted and added to, and the old man had smoked his pipe, and read his newspaper, and dozed for an hour or more, when he was roused up by a knocking at the door of his shed, and Rob's voice breaking the dismal silence.

"Please, Mr. Jasper, it's Rob."

"Oh, it's you, is it?" and making his way to the door, Jonas drew the bolt, and admitted his little, ragged, shivering, dripping visitor.

"Well, Rob, what's brought you round here? I thought you'd got a tea on at your mission place?"

"So we have, Mr. Jasper; but I've got something for you, and I wanted to bring it quick. See here!" and Rob displayed from under his little jacket (hardly big enough to be any protection) a nicely illuminated text, which his teacher had given him that afternoon for his old friend. "Isn't it beautiful, Mr. Jasper? Look at the flowers all painted so lovely, and the colours?"

Jasper smiled. "My old eyes won't hurry themselves," he said. "I can't see yet. We must have more light, I reckon; put a match to the lamp, Rob, and hand down my glasses. Now then, we'll have a look. What's it all about, eh? 'He careth for you.' Humph! It's very pretty to look at; but I don't see much meaning in it."

"But teacher said I was to tell you that 'He' is God, and 'you' is Mr. Jasper, and so you were to read it, 'God careth for Mr. Jasper;' and it's out of the Bible, and so it is quite true." Having delivered his gift and his message, Rob sat down and watched his old friend.

"Oh, that's what he says, is it? Well, Rob, I think different to that. I don't think God has ever cared much about me, or I about Him. I've gone on my own way, and never harmed anybody as I know of, so He's had no cause to interfere with me; and when my time comes to go, well, I must take my chance with the rest."

"But where shall you go when your 'time comes,' Mr. Jasper?"

Jonas was silent for a moment, and then answered, "I don't see as anybody can tell, Rob, so it's no use wasting time talking about it. Just fetch down the cups, and we'll have some tea; you look as though you'd be none the worse for it."

But there was a cloud on Rob's face. "I thought you'd like that card so much," he said, "and teacher hoped you'd put it up against your wall."

"So I will, Rob, and you shall fix it where you please, if you can find any room."

In an instant the child was on his feet, trying one place after another, and finally resting it on a strip of wood just opposite the old man's chair. "That's lovely," he said; "but oh my!"

"What's the matter, Rob?"

"Doesn't it make the wall look dirty?"

Jasper glanced up, and there, truly enough, the clean white card, with God's message upon it, made everything around look almost black in contrast.

##

"Dear me, Rob, I didn't know my old place was so dirty, and 'tisn't long ago I gave it a touch of whitewash. Seems to me the card and the place don't agree very well. Anyhow, 'tis pretty; and now we'll have our tea, such as 'tis. But you won't have any cake here, Rob, like you would have done at the Hall."

"I'd rather be with you, Mr. Jasper, and have no cake."

"Would you now?" and a glow of pleasure shot into the old man's heart at this childish test of love. "Do you care so much for me as all that, Rob?" As he said the words, his eyes fell once more upon the text, "He careth," the very word he used himself about Rob. What had he meant by it? Love, and a desire to be with him; and could it be that God had any such feelings towards him? "He, God, careth for you, Mr. Jasper," and it was in the Bible. That was the message Rob had brought. Well, the Bible was true, for certain; he had never doubted that. But this was a staggerer! That he, Jasper, as a man, was anything to God, seemed so utterly strange and new.

"'He,' 'you,' like as if there was only the two of us," he half muttered to himself; and then for some minutes there was silence, while the child ate his tea, and the old man, pretending to eat, was lost in thought.

"God don't care about me, or I about Him," he had said a few minutes before. But there, in front of him, was God's contradiction of half the words! True enough it was of him, that he had cared nothing for God all these long years; but perhaps God had cared for him! Loved him, liked to be with him! Ay, the lads had often told him that Jesus Christ was in that dark shed of his; but he had only laughed, although perhaps the words had not been utterly lost, and sometimes, when sitting alone, the thought of God's presence—there because everywhere—would come into his mind, and make him somewhat uneasy. But now a fresh idea had struck him. Was God in that shed of his because He loved him and liked to be with him? Nay, it could not be. And yet there, in the dim light and the silence (for Rob had fallen asleep in his warm corner), old Jonas sat and thought, and the words echoed and re-echoed, "careth for you."

Somehow that word seemed to mean so much just then. God takes an interest in you; God thinks of you; God loves you. And then a memory of long years ago flashed a new light upon the words, and he recalled how once, and only once, the strong love of his man's heart had been repulsed with the words, "But I don't care for you, Jonas." Even now the memory of that early love, refused, rejected, was deep in his heart. And could it be, though he had said to God, "I don't care for You," that God still loved him, and wanted him for His own?

"Well, I don't rightly understand it," he muttered; "but there's something comfortable about it anyhow, and maybe some time I'll know better what it means. Halloa, there's some one at the door. That must be Phil, for certain."

Phil it was, who, having stayed to the tea at the Mission Hall, came in to fetch his brother home.

"I wanted him to go back to you, and have a good feed, Phil," said Jasper; "but he was minded to stay here with me, and put up his card that he brought."

Phil glanced up at the wall. "It looks nice up there," he said. "Only—" and he hesitated.

"Only what, boy?"

"How it does show up the wall all round."

"Well, that's what Rob said; it's too clean for my place."

Phil was silent for a moment, and then sitting down, he said, in that queer, old-fashioned way of his, "I think that's what God's Word generally does, Mr. Jasper; it shows us up. Mr. Armstrong said the other day that we don't find out how filthy sin makes us until we see what God says about it in His Word. Every wrong thing we do or say leaves a stain upon us, and then, when we put our lives alongside of God's Word we find out how filthy we are; and so I was thinking, you didn't know how dirty your old wall was until Rob put up the clean text. And perhaps, Mr. Jasper—" and Phil hesitated, as though afraid of saying too much.

"Well, lad, what is it?"

"Perhaps, if you were to take down your old Bible and read it sometimes, you would find out how black you are, and then Jesus would wash you in His blood, and make you quite clean." Phil ceased, almost frightened at his own boldness.

But Jasper was not offended; so Phil took courage, and went on, "You see, Mr. Jasper, you've often told us you've never wronged anybody, or cursed like father does; but there's lots of other things are wrong, that leave their marks upon us, only you haven't found them out yet; and I was thinking you had better know all about it, because, you see, it would be dreadful to die, and find it out afterwards! Now, Rob, we must be off, or father will be angry. Good-night, Mr. Jasper."

Out into the cold and the darkness went the two boys, leaving their old friend in a strangely disturbed state of mind. Rob's message and Phil's were so different; the one comforting, the other arousing. Yet both were true; but Phil's was uppermost just now. Perhaps, after all, his life in God's sight wouldn't bear inspection. Nay, deep down in his heart he knew it wouldn't. God's Word (he used to read it long ago) would "show him up," and prove him a sinner; and once more his eyes fell upon the clean text that made all around look so soiled.

But yet the very God whose word would convince him of sin was the God that "cared" for him; and so, with strangely conflicting ideas the old man blew out his lamp, and ascending the ladder that led to his bedroom, soon forgot in sleep all that perplexed him.

### CHAPTER IV.

#### TROUBLED THOUGHTS.

"FATHER, it's my birthday to-day;" and Phil Mellor stole his hand into his father's, as he sat moodily over the fire one Sunday morning in December.

"Is it, Phil? Well, 'twould have been a good thing for me and you too if you'd never had a birthday."

"Oh, father!" and the boy's eyes filled with tears, "would you just as soon be without me? Don't you care one bit about me, father?"

A strange look came over Stephen Mellor's face, as he glanced down at the lad kneeling beside him.

"I didn't say that, Phil; but you've had a rough time of it, and—yes, I do wish you'd never been born; not that I want to be rid of you; but when I think of what—" and then he stopped. "But there, I don't wish to think. Let me see, how old are you?"

"Thirteen, father; and I was thinking lots of boys have good times on their birthday, and presents of all sorts, and I've never had that; and so I wondered to-day if you'd let me have a birthday treat."

Stephen Mellor stared. "Treat, indeed; I don't see much likelihood of that, Phil."

"Oh yes, I could, father; something I want so much; and you can do it for me."

"Out with it, then. What is it?"

"Oh, father, will you come up to the Mission Hall to-night?" And Phil took both his father's hands, and looked pleadingly into the troubled, restless face before him.

For a moment there was a struggle. In his sober moments Mellor had a father's heart, and just now it was rather drawn out to the bright-faced boy before him, whose life he had made so sad. Surely it was a little thing to do, and the Mission Hall folk had been kind to the lads. Why shouldn't he go for once? He'd never done much to give his boys pleasure yet. Phil's birthday!

How well he remembered the day he was born, in that comfortable home away in the North, when he was a well-to-do man, earning a good salary, and living in ease! But now—and he glanced round the wretched room, with its miserable belongings—at his boy, with the ragged, shabby clothes—at himself. Ay, that was the worst look of all; for it was he, Stephen Mellor, who, by his own sin and folly, had brought all this want and misery on his wife and boys. And as he sat there, crushed and hopeless, the tears forced themselves down between his fingers and on to Phil's hand.

The boy was startled. "Why, father, what is it? Are you ill?"

"No, Phil, no; don't talk to me. Yes, I'll go with you to-night; anywhere for a change;" and the man rose from his seat, and walked restlessly to and fro.

And so the cherished desire of Phil and Rob was fulfilled at last, and that same evening Stephen Mellor was seen in the Mission Hall, sitting on the very back seat in the farthest corner, between his two boys, who with the most important air were pointing out everybody and everything.

But just as the service commenced Mellor gave a sudden start, as he saw a policeman enter the room and make straight for the corner in which he sat.

"Phil, why is that man corning here? What does he want?"

"Why, father, it's only Mr. Forbes. He lives close here, and takes care of the place, and he's just going to shut the window."

"Are you sure, Phil?" And though reassured when he saw Forbes give a kindly nod to the boys and pass on, it was yet some time before he recovered himself sufficiently to pay any heed to the service.

Hymns were sung, prayers offered, and Scripture read, without much effect upon him. But then a tall, earnest-looking man ascended the platform, and in a clear voice said, "I've a very short text to-night, friends, only four words; and you'll find it in Daniel v. 6, 'His thoughts troubled him.'"

In an instant Mellor was arrested, and leaning forward he gazed earnestly at the preacher, as he narrated the familiar story of Belshazzar's feast, with the mysterious writing on the wall that put so sudden an end to all the festivities, and turned the gay, light-hearted king, who had been the leader of all the merriment, into a pale, trembling, awestruck man.

"Ah, my friends, it only needs a very short message from God to put a stop to all earth's pleasures; and so it was that night when there went home to Belshazzar's heart a consciousness that he was wrong, and so 'his thoughts troubled him.'"

"I think the same might be said of a good many here to-night, and there's nothing has more power to trouble a man than his own thoughts. Poverty, pain, sorrow, all are easier to bear than an accusing conscience, a haunting memory, a condemning thought, for it's a trouble you can't get away from. Some have bad homes, and they leave them; trying situations, and they give notice; bad husbands or wives, and maybe they get a separation; but you can't get a separation from your thoughts, or give them notice to quit, for, go where you will, your thoughts go too, and you've wished you needn't think, and the cry of many a heart is, 'Oh, if I could only forget.' Perhaps you've tried to drown your thoughts in drink, but they won't be drowned; or to banish them by pleasure, but they don't go; and now to-night, in this very hall, they are troubling you. Yes, thoughts of sin committed against God or man. And shall I tell you why they trouble you? Because God is saying to you as to Israel of old, 'I know your thoughts and your works. I know the things that come into your mind, every one of them.' Ah, friends, it's because God knows what you know, that you are uneasy."

"Perhaps it is not thoughts of the past only, but of the future, when you know you will have to meet God in judgment, and you say, 'I don't like to think about death.' Well, now, I'll tell you how to get rid of these troubling thoughts. Instead of keeping away from God, go and tell Him all about it. You see, He won't be surprised at any startling revelations of evil, because He knows it all now; only, before He can help you, you must take Him into your confidence, and, oh! you will find Him a friend indeed. Your sin against Himself He will forgive, for 'if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us'; and won't it be better to get rid of it by confession than to seek to cover it up? And if I have wronged my neighbour, there must be confession to him too. God's Word is very plain about this. He won't forgive unless we ask forgiveness also from the one whom we have wronged; and so, by confession to God and man, there will come pardon for all that is past, and your thoughts will cease to trouble you."

"You see, the writing on the wall didn't trouble Daniel one bit, but he was the only one in that vast assembly who was at rest. And why? He was a sinner indeed, but a forgiven sinner. And so, my friends, it may be with you. And then God's messages shall no more alarm you, not even when the last one comes to bid you meet your God, for, washed in the blood of Jesus, you will be ready to meet Him without fear."

"But one word in closing. God knows your thoughts, but do you know His? Oh, listen. 'I know the thoughts that I think towards you, saith the Lord; thoughts of peace, and not of evil.' Yes, however black your past may be with sin, God has thoughts of peace about it; for Jesus has made peace by the blood of His cross, and He offers that peace to you now. Peace for your conscience, peace for your heart. Will you accept it? Will you come to Him as a poor sinner for whom Jesus died? If so, He will say to you as to one of old, 'Go in peace; thy sins are forgiven thee.' 'Let not your heart be troubled.'"

For a moment there was silence ere the speaker closed in prayer, and then, while every head was bowed, the choir sang softly,—

"Sinner, now thy heart is troubled;
God is coming very near;
Do not hide that deep emotion,
Do not check that falling tear.
Oh, be saved, His grace is free; oh, be saved, He died
for thee."
"Jesus now is bending o'er thee;
Jesus, lowly, meek, and mild;
To the Friend who died to save thee
Wilt thou not be reconciled?"
"With a lowly, contrite spirit,
Bending at the Saviour's feet,
Thou may'st feel this very moment
Pardon, precious, pure, and sweet.
Oh, be saved, His grace is free; oh, be saved, He died
for thee."

The music ceased, and the meeting was closed with earnest prayer; but any who wished to stay behind were asked to do so.

"Will you stop, father?" The question came timidly from Phil.

"No; I've had enough. Let me get out of this!" and in a moment Mellor had slipped from between his boys and was gone. Then finding himself outside, he paused for a moment, as if hesitating where to go or what to do; but finally he turned up a side street, and walked with short, rapid strides up and down.

There was a tremendous struggle going on in his heart just then. The words at the Mission Hall had gone straight home. His thoughts were indeed troubling him. But how should he get rid of them—confession or concealment? For years he had tried the latter, and now once more conscience was speaking. "Make a clean breast of it to God and man." How could he? It might mean arrest, imprisonment; and yet his present life was hardly preferable. Should he? Could he? And up and down the street he paced with this tremendous struggle going on in his heart. Christ longing to save, and Satan longing to keep his slave. But the decision lay with Mellor. At last it came.

"No," he muttered to himself, "I can't face it. It's too hard. I must go on as I am!" And with this resolve he turned into the public-house at the corner, there (as Mr. Armstrong had said) to try and drown his thoughts in drink.

All unknown to Mellor, Phil had been following at a distance, sure that something unusual was at work in his father's mind, and wondering what would come of it. When he saw the swing door of the White Horse open, and his father go in, something very like a sob came from him, and sitting down on a doorstep he buried his face in his hands and burst into tears. Poor lad! His father's promise to go to the Hall had made him quite hopeful all day; but now,—'twas the old story—drink, drink, drink. Oh, would things never be different? Was life always to be as now? For some time poor Phil (brave as he generally was) gave way utterly. The harsh treatment, the wretched home, the constant struggle for existence, seemed altogether more than he could bear; but presently the church clock striking roused him, and getting up, he walked away homeward, passing the public-house in which at that moment his father sat.

He paused outside. Should he go in and fetch him? It wouldn't be the first time; and pushing the door gently, he peeped in. There sat his father, glass in hand, joining in a drunken chorus. No, 'twas no use to go. So, sadly and wearily he turned away, and with aching heart and tearful eyes made his way home.

But love awaited him there. Rob was looking out for his brother, and after a frugal supper of dry bread, the two lads lay down upon their bed, which was little more than a heap of rags, and with their arms around each other's necks, and their faces close together, forgot in sweet sleep all the sorrows and hardships of their young lives.

### CHAPTER V.

#### LESSONS FROM RAGS.

"MR. JASPER, are you there?" and Rob peered anxiously into the shed, where his friend was generally to be found.

"Yes, Rob, of course; and in want of a boy to help me pick over this lot of stuff that I bought yesterday; come along."

Rob was delighted, and making his way to the back of the shed, found Jonas stooping over a heap of bottles, rags, rusty iron, bits of rope, and every other indescribable rubbish.

"Dear me, Mr. Jasper, what are you going to do with all this?"

"Sort it, Rob, and then see what can be done with it. Now just you put all the bits of iron there, and the bottles together, and the rags by themselves there, in the corner. Now we'll get to work."

For some time both were busily engaged, and too engrossed even to talk.

Jonas was the first to break the silence. "Dear me," he said, "my old back isn't so fond of stooping as it used to be; it begins to cry out now. I must rest a few minutes."

Rob looked up. "I suppose, Mr. Jasper, you are getting old."

"I suppose I am, Rob; I shall never see seventy-nine again."

The child opened his eyes. "Seventy-nine? Why, Mr. Jasper, I should think you'll soon have to die, won't you?"

"Bless the child! where do you get your talk from? Die? No. Why, there's lots of folks live to be ninety and more. Of course there's no knowing. I shall have to go when my time comes;" and as he said the words an uneasy look came over his face, that had often been there lately. Supposing he did live to be ninety or more, why, it was only putting off, not getting rid of, that meeting with God, that must come to each one sooner or later. He had not yet forgotten what Phil said about the stain that every sin left on the heart, and many an uncomfortable thought had he had about it. Once or twice he had been on the point of taking down his old Bible; but the remembrance of Phil's remarks that God's Word "showed us up," and the inner conviction of his own conscience that it would do so, made him hesitate; and so, whilst dreading its warnings, he missed its precious promises of comfort, missed the loving messages of the loving Father, who, while hating sin, yet loved the sinner, and longed to pardon and to save.

"Ah, Rob, that won't do;" and the old man woke up from his reverie. "You mustn't mix those rags. Put the white ones by themselves here, and the coloured ones in the corner."

Rob looked up astonished. "Why, Mr. Jasper, they're all so dirty and torn they can't be any good."

"Yes, they are, though; those white ones will be made into paper."

"Paper?"

"Yes, beautiful white writing paper."

This was a new idea, and stopping his work Rob sat down and looked at Jasper. "Tell me how," he said.

"Ah, that's more than I can do, Rob; only I know I sell them to a man down in High Street, and he sends them to a paper-mill, and they do all the work there. But it doesn't look as if they could come to much, does it now?"

"Would you like to know how they do it?" And a voice from the entry of the shed startled the two rag-pickers, as Forbes the policeman made his way in. "I've been watching you two," he said with a smile, "and listening to you; but you were both so busy you didn't see me."

Jasper laughed. "Rob's doing the work, and I'm doing the looking on part; but sit down, Forbes, if you can find a seat."

"I can't stay now, Jasper—my wife will have my dinner ready; but when I heard you both wondering how those dirty old rags could ever be made into clean white paper, I thought I'd step in a minute, for my father was foreman at a paper-mill, and many's the time I've gone all over the place with him, and seen how 'twas done. Just such stuff as you've got there in that heap of Rob's they take it, and break it into little tiny bits, and put it into some strong stuff—caustic, or acid, or something—and they get all the dirt out, and boil, and boil, and boil it until it's quite soft and white, and you'd never know it had been so dirty. I can't tell you all about it now, but it always sets me thinking of what the Lord will do with a sinner. Filthy as we are, He can just take us and wash away all our filth, and soften our hard hearts, and make something altogether new out of us. 'Tis very wonderful, and I don't know that we can quite understand how He does it; but you see, like the rags in the mill, the master undertakes to do it all, and he knows how and he does it, and so the Lord will undertake to wash the blackest sinner white; and He'll do it too, if we'll only let Him; and when the Lord takes a man in hand it's astonishing what He can make of him, no matter how worthless he seems to be. Like your text says that you learnt at Sunday School yesterday, Rob; can you mind it now?" And the tall policeman looked down at the little lad crouched at his feet.

Rob thought for a moment, and then clapping his hands said, "I've got it. I can say it. 'Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.'"

"There now, that's just it, isn't it? Good-bye, and may we all be washed in the precious blood of Jesus!" And away walked the worthy man, with an earnest prayer in his heart that Jasper might know the cleansing power of the Saviour's blood.

Of course he had known the old man for years, but Rob's prattle about him had awakened a special interest in his heart, and often, if "on duty" in the neighbourhood, he would drop in and try to say a word or two for his Master, that might go home to Jasper's conscience. And indeed he had done so to-day; and for a long time Jasper sat, gazing at the rags, that brought such a lesson to his heart. Filthy? so was he; apparently worthless? so was he; unable to get rid of the filth? so was he. But what the rags couldn't do, and what he couldn't do, another could.

"What was that you said, Rob?"

"'Twas our text in school yesterday, Mr. Jasper."

"Is it out of the Bible?"

"Why, yes."

"Whereabouts is it, then?"

Rob shook his head. "I don't know," he said, "but perhaps I could find it;" and jumping up he reached down the old dusty book from the shelf, and opened its pages, turning them over and over, but in vain. After some minutes he put it down wearily, saying, "'Tis such a lot of reading, and I can't find it; but Phil will know, and I'll ask him, and be sure to tell you."

"All right, Rob! But anyhow you're sure it's there?"

"Oh yes, because teacher read it out of his Bible, and then he chalked it on the board for us to learn; but Phil always finds the verses himself as well. You see, he's so clever, and then he's five years older than me." And with this excuse for his inferior capacities, Rob set to work at his rags again, and Jasper to his thoughts.

Then, after all, the Bible wasn't all against a man; anyhow Rob's verse wasn't. Perhaps he needn't be afraid to read it? He'd have a look by-and-by when the child was gone, and see for himself. But now he must set to work again.

"Dear me, Rob, you're getting on first-rate, and making that big heap look quite foolish; but how about the time? Is there any dinner going for you at home, child?"

"Oh yes; soup to-day. Mr. Armstrong gave us tickets yesterday, and Phil went to fetch it when I came here; so 'tis ready now, and I'll have to go; and then it will be school time. But after, if father doesn't want me, I shall come in and finish my work."

"Father want you, eh? That doesn't happen very often, does it?"

"No, Mr. Jasper; I don't think he ever wants me myself, but you know sometimes when Phil and I go out singing, we get quite a nice bit of money given us, and father likes that. One night he made us go into a public-house, and we got more than five shillings there. But Phil says he'll never go again; and he and father had a row about it, but Phil wouldn't give in, though father said he'd thrash him. But of course we do go into the squares and terraces, and some of the people are so kind to us; and I think, you know, Mr. Jasper, that Jesus tells them we are poor and hungry, because, you see, we tell Him about it, and then He tells them; so we always get something. But, oh! I like being here best of all;" and rubbing his cheeks against the old man's knee, by way of a farewell, the child ran quickly out of the shed, and up Preece's Place, to his own home, where, as he expected, he found Phil and the soup.

Not again that day did he visit his friend; so Jasper finished his sorting alone, and then clearing up his place a bit, and shutting his doors earlier than usual (for these December nights were sharp and cold), he drew his chair close to the stove, put his lamp on the shelf just behind, and with almost trembling hands took down the Bible.

It was long years since he had opened it, and its pages were yellow and brown, not, indeed, from use, but from age; for it had been his father's before him. The book was open just as Rob had left it after his fruitless search, and surely it was not by accident, but by God's own loving arrangement, that Jasper, when he had put on his glasses, and glanced down at its pages, read, "The Book of the Prophet Isaiah."

A verse or two at the beginning he read, and murmuring, "I can't make anything of this," was just going to turn over when his eye caught the words, "Wash you, make you clean," and for a moment he stopped. "The same old story again," he muttered, but almost in the same breath there came an explanation, for there, just below, were the very words Rob had repeated, "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." With almost a nervous clutch he held the book nearer to the lamp, to make quite sure. Yes, there they were; Rob was right, and glancing up for a moment, as if to try and think it out, his eyes fell once more on the text Rob had brought him two or three weeks before: "He careth for you."

"Well, really it seems like it," he said to himself, "if He'll do so much for anybody as to make 'em clean;" and for a long time he sat lost in thought over these two wonderful messages from God to him. "But I can't see how it comes about: I'm down here in my old shed, and the Lord's up in heaven, a mighty way away; and yet those boys often tell me He's here! Anyhow, it don't seem much like it! I wish I knew things rightly;" and Rob's words came back to him, "I suppose, Mr. Jasper, you'll soon have to die?"

It was a terrible thought; but he faced it then. "Yes; I shall have to die, and I daresay I shall be all alone in this dark place when I do die; and I'm afraid of the thought, I'm afraid to meet God; and why? Because of sin."

Yes, he knew it now; it had come to him he hardly knew how. Partly by the boys' talk, maybe; partly by God's Spirit working in his heart; and as he sat there by the dying fire and the fading light, a great fear came over him, a fear that must come to every man who thinks of God apart from Christ, and knows not that the God who hates sin is the God who so loved the sinner as to give His only begotten Son, that all through Him might be saved. Yes; the God that Jasper feared, as he sat thinking late into the night, was the God who was in Christ, reconciling the world unto Himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them.

### CHAPTER VI.

#### PHIL GETS A START.

"JASPER, are the boys here?" and Forbes peered into the shed where they were so often to be found.

"No; Phil has got a day's work taking round circulars, and I expect Rob's with him. Anyhow, I haven't seen either of them this morning."

"Well, their father has been knocked down by a runaway horse, and badly hurt, I'm afraid; anyhow, his leg is broken in two places. We've taken him to the Infirmary, and I've been round to their room, but it's locked up, and the folk downstairs don't know where Mrs. Mellor has gone."

"Broken his leg, eh? That's a long job."

"Yes, three months at least, the doctor said."

"Well, Forbes, 'pon my word I don't know that it's a bad thing; he'll have to keep from the drink for certain, and then I should think his wife and boys would have a better chance without him, for what they pick up he spends."

Forbes shrugged his shoulders. "Humph! I don't know but what you're right; but there, I think Phil's fond of his father in a way. Rob's afraid of him, and no wonder, poor little chap. It seems to me you're his father, Jasper; anyhow, he spends most of his time here, according to his own accounts."

"Yes, he's always welcome to what I have, though that isn't much; and I do really look out for their coming in."

"Well, if you see either of them, or the wife, just tell them what's happened, will you? He's all safe up at the Infirmary, and they can go up as soon as they like. I've left word round at their place; but maybe they'll drop in here first."

But ill news travels fast, and as Phil and Rob were together distributing circulars in quite another part of Helmstone, the tidings reached them of their father's accident. One of the Mission Hall folk, who had seen Mellor knocked down, met the boys and told them.

"You'd better be off to see him, I should think; they'll let you in all right."

Phil hesitated. "No," he said; "I've promised to leave these circulars every one to-day, and I can't go until I've done it, or else they would say I wasn't truthful; but I'll be as quick as ever I can, and Rob shall help, and then we'll both go and see father."

And so all the afternoon Stephen Mellor lay on his bed, after his leg had been set and his injuries attended to, hardly able to realize what had happened; surrounded by strangers and suffering, and almost astonished at the longing in his heart to see either his wife or his boys come in.

"Maybe they don't know it yet," he said to himself, after looking eagerly at the opening door, which, however, only admitted the nurse. "Or perhaps, perhaps, they don't care to come; and little wonder, too! Glad to be rid of me. And here I am for I don't know how long, confound it! with nothing to do but lie here and think, think, think!" He clenched his fist almost in despair. Ah! There lay the greatest dread; the physical pain was bad enough, but the pain at the heart was far worse—those troubling thoughts that would not be banished, but that clung to him with persistence, go where he would.

Yes, the three days that had elapsed since his visit to the Mission Hall had been three wretched days, for God had been striving, and he had been resisting that Holy Spirit, who would have led him to repentance and peace. But his reverie was at last broken by the arrival of Phil, who, having finished his work, had hurried to his father. He was rather awestruck at the bandaged head and pale face lying on the pillow, and putting his hand into his father's he said quietly, "Poor father! I'm so sorry. Are you very bad?"

"Bad enough, and no mistake, Phil."

"How did it happen, father?"

Mellor put his hand to his head. "I hardly know," he said; "it seems all confused; but your policeman friend, who brought me up here, said he'd find it all out. It's all like a dream; but my leg pains me dreadful, and my head too. I don't know, but I believe the horse kicked me."

Phil put his hand over his father's aching brow, and said quietly, "Yes, it's very bad to be kicked."

Mellor winced at the words, for they recalled how the bright boy before him had more than once been kicked, not by a runaway horse, but by his own father,—maddened, indeed, through drink. And yet, now that he was suffering, Phil was ready to come with sympathy and love, just as if the cruel past had never been; he was a strange lad, and no mistake!

For more than an hour did Phil stay, trying to while away the time, and to interest the sufferer, until at last the nurse came to him and told him he must leave, but could come again on the morrow.

"Of course, father, if I get work you won't see me; because, you know, I shall have to keep the family now." He said the words laughingly, while in his heart he knew they would be better off without him; and secretly he saw a more prosperous, peaceful time during his father's enforced absence, than he had hitherto known. But of all this he said nothing, and promising that either he or his mother should come on the morrow, he went away, leaving his father once more to the unpleasant society of his thoughts.

The ward in which he lay was a small one, and the bed on either side empty, so that Mellor was left pretty much to himself; but the nurse was kind, and sat by him, talking to him, until at last, weary with pain, he fell asleep.

Phil's first errand the next morning was to his friend Forbes, to find out from him the owner of the horse that had knocked down his father. "Because, you see, Mr. Forbes, I should think he ought to do something for us, and I'm going to try; only I wish I looked more decent; you see my clothes are so very shabby." Phil looked longingly at Forbes' blue coat, with its bright buttons, and then sadly at his own patched garments. "Mother sat up last night mending my jacket," he said, half apologetically; "because, you know, rags look dreadful."

"Well, let's see, Phil, I think I could find an old waistcoat of my Tom's that would look better than yours, and a necktie too. There; now you'll do. Well, it's Mr. Cross, the news-agent down in George Street, whose horse knocked your father down; not that he was to blame, though, from all I hear, for the horse is quiet enough, they say, but took fright at a traction engine. Anyhow, you might call down, Phil, and tell your story."

So off the boy went; and after a patient waiting, found himself in the presence of Mr. Cross, one of the busiest tradesmen in Helmstone, an advertising and news-agent.

"Now, my lad, what's your business?"

In few words Phil told of his father's accident. "And I should be very much obliged, sir, if you could give me work; because, you see, I shall have to keep mother and Rob now."

"Work, eh?" and Mr. Cross looked down at the little lad beside him, with his bright honest face, that had such a wonderful attraction about it. "Work? I fancy I should have the School Board officer down on me if I took you on here. How old are you?"

"Thirteen last Sunday, sir; so you see I'm all right that way; and, oh, please, sir, take me. I'll do anything."

Mr. Cross paused. He did want a boy just then. "Is there anybody knows you?" he said.

"Oh yes, sir; Mr. Forbes, the policeman, and Mr. Jasper up at the shed in Preece's Place."

The man smiled at Phil's two references. "Known to the police, eh?" he said.

"And there's Mr. Armstrong, sir, my teacher up at the Mission Hall in John Street, he can tell you all about me, and he lives up in Sydney Square."

"Mr. Armstrong the lawyer? I know him. Well, you can call round to-morrow morning at nine o'clock, and then I'll see what I can do for you, if he gives you a good character; but you must tidy yourself up a bit."

Phil looked despondent. "I'm afraid I can't, sir; these are all the clothes I have, and mother sat up last night mending them; but of course, if you take me on, sir—" and his face brightened at the thought—"I shall soon be able to buy some, and then I'll look respectable." And away he bounded in high spirits, confident that Mr. Armstrong would speak well of him. He was not mistaken, Mr. Armstrong's recommendation was good indeed.

"I believe he's perfectly straightforward and genuine, Mr. Cross; I've known him for nearly three years, and have never found him out in the smallest deception. His surroundings have been of the worst, but amidst all the lad has been kept true and honest; and I don't believe you'll ever regret taking him; and I should be glad to know he had work."

And so the next morning, when Phil presented himself punctually at nine o'clock, with face and hands as clean as soap and water could make them, the foreman met him with the welcome news that Mr. Cross would give him a trial, and he was set to work at once; sorting old newspapers, of which, to Phil's astonished eyes, there seemed to be thousands in that large warehouse behind the shop.

And so some good had come out of Stephen Mellor's accident; for thereby the boy was rescued from the dangers of a life in the streets, and taken into good regular employment.

### CHAPTER VII.

#### THE CHRISTMAS MESSAGE.

CHRISTMAS DAY had come once more, bringing not only its message of "Peace on earth" from God, but of goodwill from men to men; for into many a poor home had gone gifts to gladden, and Christmas cheer to chase away, for the time at least, some of the clouds of poverty and care that hung so heavily there.

To the Mellors it had been an unusually good time; a substantial dinner of beef and plum pudding from the Mission Hall, a present of groceries from Phil's employer, two hundredweight of coals from Mr. Armstrong, and new jackets for Phil and Rob, made by Mrs. Forbes' clever, kindly fingers, out of one of her husband's big police overcoats, all combined to make the day a very happy one; and though there was genuine regret that the father was upon a suffering bed, yet both to wife and children Stephen Mellor's absence was undoubtedly a source of peace.

The week that had elapsed since his accident had been a week of unusual quietness and comfort in the home. To Rob, the chief joy of Christmas Day lay in a surprise that he had for Mr. Jasper; for not only had the Mission Hall folk sent an ample supply of dinner to the Mellors, but, in response to Rob's earnest pleadings, a good basinful of beef, potatoes and pudding had been given him for his old friend; and no sooner had Rob swallowed the last mouthful of his own dinner, than Jasper's portion, which had been carefully put close to the fire to keep warm must be taken round.

As fast as his little legs could carry him Rob speeded down Preece's Place with his precious burden. The shed was soon reached, and in response to Rob's knock Jasper appeared at the door.

"Halloa, Rob, I thought Christmas Day was a sort of stay-at-home day to family folk like you. What's brought you here?"

But Rob was too excited to say much, until, having put the basin on the table, and taken off the newspaper wherewith he had covered and hidden the dinner, he turned round and gasped out, "There!"

Jasper was fairly surprised. "Why, where has this sprung from?" he said. "Have you and Phil been stinting yourselves to give your old friend a taste of Christmas fare?"

"No, Mr. Jasper; our Mr. Armstrong sent it to you, every bit; only I didn't want you to know about it until 'twas all here." And the child stood beaming with delight at his friend's pleasant surprise.

"Ah, but I guess if Mr. Armstrong sent it, it was Rob Mellor asked for it, eh?" And tears came into the old man's eyes at this fresh proof of the child's genuine love.

"Why, yes, of course, he knows all about you, Mr. Jasper, and what a great friend you are of mine; and you know he'll be very glad to see you when you come to the Hall."

Jasper laughed. "One of these fine days, Rob, perhaps! Wait till the spring comes, and we shall see. But anyhow you must give him my very best thanks for this beautiful dinner;" and sitting down, he began to taste the goodly fare that Rob had brought, while the child crouched down at his feet, close to the stove.

"I like Christmas, Mr. Jasper, don't you?"

"Well, Rob, I like Christmas dinner, but I don't see much in the day, except that sometimes it sets a man wishing he had somebody belonging to him."

"But it's Jesus Christ's birthday."

"So I've heard say, Rob; but what of that?"

"Why, Mr. Jasper, don't you see, if He hadn't had a birthday down here, He wouldn't have ever lived down here, and then died for us that we might go to heaven. Teacher says that for a long, long time God had promised that He would send a Saviour to die for us, to save us from being punished for our sins; and then one night, in the very middle of the night, the angels brought the message that the Saviour had come; and I should think everybody was glad. Then the shepherds that the angels spoke to went off directly to see the little baby that was to grow to be a man, and then to die; and when they looked at Him, they knew that God had kept His promise, and they were so glad, because He was going to be punished instead of them; and that's why He's called a Saviour. I can find it in the Bible, if you like, because I have read it my own self; it's in the second chapter of Luke;" and Rob jumped up and reached down the old book.

"It's rather hard words," he said. "I don't know that I can read it all."

"Never mind, Rob; you leave it open there. Maybe I'll have a look at it myself by-and-by."

And when the child had gone, and he was left alone, he did "have a look at it," not only by the light of the lamp that burned at his side, but by the light of God's Holy Spirit shining in his heart.

That light had indeed of late been making manifest the evil, and showing him that he was a sinner; but God never does His work by halves, and now the same light should reveal to him God's provision for sin—a Saviour.

Carefully did he read the Gospel narrative of the birth of Christ; the joyous message that had come from heaven to earth on that first Christmas morn. "Unto you is born this day a Saviour."

"Unto you;" but did that mean a favoured few? Nay; what said the next verse? "I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people." "All!" then that must include him—Jonas Jasper! "A Saviour which is Christ the Lord." "The Lord," why, that was God Himself; the Lord who said all the terrible things about sin was the Lord who came to be the Saviour! For the first time in his life Jonas began to see the two sides of God's heart, His hatred of sin, and His love for the sinner. He hated sin so much that He must punish it; but He loved the sinner so much that He bore the punishment for him.

For a long time the old man sat with his eyes fixed on the words, as if trying to take in their full meaning. "It's just what I want, and no mistake," he said to himself. "'A Saviour.' I shouldn't be afraid to die then, if my sins had all been punished. 'My sins'—and I used to think I wasn't a sinner, but a respectable fellow who could hold his own before God and man. Anyhow, it's a good thing I've found it out. I mind Phil said one day 'twould be a dreadful thing to find it out afterwards."

"'Tis bad enough now, but I begin to see a little hope, if God has sent a Saviour! I never used to think these things concerned me, but it seems to me now the Bible must have been written on purpose for me; anyhow it just fits me. How I wish I had started reading it before! Halloa, what's that?" and Jasper listened, as a sound of singing broke upon his ear, sweet, clear, childish voices outside somewhere.

##

"That's Phil and Rob, I'll be bound, come carol-singing to their old friend. What voices they've got, to be sure! No wonder they pick up something when they start that! What is it they're singing?" And before opening his door Jasper stopped to listen. They were close outside, so the words came clearly.

"Jesus, my Saviour, to Bethlehem came,
Born in a manger, to sorrow and shame;
Oh, it was wonderful, blest be His name,
Seeking for me, for me."
"Jesus, my Saviour, on Calvary's tree
Paid the great debt, and my soul He set free;
Oh, it was wonderful, how could it be
Dying for me, for me."
"Jesus, my Saviour, the same as of old,
While I was wandering away from the fold;
Gently and long did He plead with my soul,
Calling for me, for me."
"Jesus, my Saviour, shall come from on high,
Sweet is the promise as weary years fly;
Oh, I shall see Him descending the sky.
Coming for me, for me."

The voices ceased, and for a moment Jasper stood, before opening the door, as the refrain echoed in his ear, "Seeking for Me, dying for me, calling for me." He would like to have been alone just then, to think it all over; but the lads were knocking for admittance, and he couldn't keep them outside, so the bolt was drawn, and in came the singers, cold indeed (for it was real Christmas weather), but full of spirits and cheeriness.

"How did you like our hymn, Mr. Jasper?" And Phil seated himself as close as possible to the stove.

"Very much, Phil; but there's one fault to find with it."

"What's that?"

"Why, 'twas too short by half; you should get hold of something longer. Why, I'd no sooner begun to listen than you stopped."

"We'll sing it again if you like."

"So do, then; but wait a bit till I'm settled in my chair all comfortable. Rob, there's just room for you to curl in there. Now we're all straight."

In a minute the boys sang their Christmas hymn once more, and again the words fell on Jasper's ear:—

"Jesus, my Saviour, on Calvary's tree
Paid the great debt, and my soul He set free;
Oh, it was wonderful, how could it be
Dying for me, for me."

After they had finished there was perfect silence for some minutes. Phil saw that Jasper was lost in thought, and motioned to Rob to keep quiet; but presently the old man in very low tones broke the stillness.

"Yes, it was wonderful, wonderful!"

"Did you speak, Mr. Jasper?" and Rob's hand found its way into his friend's.

"I think I was talking to myself, Rob, and that isn't fair, is it, when you come to talk to me? I like your hymn very much; where did you get it?"

"Oh, it's in our Sunday School book, and we learnt it up at John Street; we sang it at lots of places last night about the streets, after I left work."

"And picked up lots of pennies, I daresay?"

Phil laughed.

"Well, we did pretty fairly, I think; we've paid our lodgings right on for next week, so that's nice, and we have a little to go on with."

"And what do you expect me to give you for your singing?"

Phil looked up in astonishment.

"Why, nothing, Mr. Jasper. You don't suppose we sang for that, do you?"

"No, I don't, Phil. I believe God sent you to sing to me to-night;" and there was a strange earnestness in Jonas's voice as he said the words. "Anyhow, I'd like to hear you once more."

"Not the same one again, Mr. Jasper; we've got such lots we know."

"I don't think you'll beat the one you sang just now, Rob; but you shall please yourselves."

So after a moment's discussion they sang the same words once more.

"And now we'll finish up with a fresh one." But Jasper hardly heeded them as they commenced to sing again. The words already sung seemed to have taken such a hold of him, as he sat there pondering over them.

Presently the boys suddenly ceased their singing, and Rob said,—

"I've forgotten the next line, Phil; what is it?"

And Phil replied,—

"Remember, I'm the sinner
Whom Jesus came to save."

Jasper started; for like a voice from heaven the words fell on his ear. The boys finished the hymn, and then, seeing that their old friend was not inclined to talk, they quietly wished him "good-night," and crept away into the cold dark night, leaving Jasper alone.

They were a little bit puzzled over him; he was so quiet, and not like himself, as Rob said. But could they have seen him after he had closed the door upon them (and bolted it, to prevent intruders), they would have been still more astonished; for there he was upon his knees, his eyes filled with tears, and his hands clasped in prayer.

"O God," he whispered, "I think I can understand it now. Thou didst send Thy Son to be a Saviour, and I'm the sinner that Jesus came to save. Oh, I am a sinner, and a big sinner too; but I can't be too bad for Jesus. Save me now, Lord; wash me in the blood of Jesus now, to-day!"

He paused, and then added softly,—

"Oh, it was wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, dying for me. Seeking for me. I do thank Thee, Lord Jesus! I do thank Thee, Lord; it's all right now!" And rising from his knees, the old man sat once more in his chair, lost in happy thought.

Christmas. Yes, the best he had ever known; for to him, as to the shepherds of old, had come a message from heaven—sung, not by angels, perhaps, but by children, sent of God, as truly as was that angelic band in Bethlehem's fields. And the result had been the same; for Jasper, like the shepherds, went and found the Christ, and knew that God's Christmas gift to him had been "a Saviour."

### CHAPTER VIII.

#### THE SUDDEN CALL.

A VERY unexpected message had come to the Mellors on the day following Christmas Day. Unfavourable symptoms had shown themselves in Stephen Mellor, and indicated internal injuries hitherto unsuspected, and the doctor could not say how things might turn. Anyhow, he was very ill, and they had better go up.

He was indeed very ill, and Phil and his mother (Rob was too frightened to go) were simply amazed to see the change that had come over him since their previous visit, three days before.

"He talks so queerly," Phil whispered, as they stood at his bedside.

"Yes," said the nurse, "he's been light-headed all the day, and that's a bad sign, you know, to come on now, a week after the accident. It's certain he's more injured than we thought for. Of course he's been very drowsy ever since he was brought here, and that looks like mischief to the brain. But there, we're doing all we can, and maybe he'll take a turn for the better. Only the doctor thought you ought to know."

But the "turn for the better" did not come, and after two or three days of only semi-consciousness, alarming symptoms set in, and before wife or children could obey the hasty call to go to him, Stephen Mellor had passed into eternity.

Oh, the waking on the other side! oh, the afterward of death! God only knows the anguish of a soul that has died without hope, without Christ! Earthly justice he had eluded; earthly punishment he had escaped; but when God's summons came, and the message went forth, "Thy soul shall be required of thee," there was no possible delay, and without the consciousness or power to cry for mercy, the spirit of Stephen Mellor passed into the presence of the God who made it. Only a fortnight before he had heard a message of mercy—that God's thoughts toward him were thoughts of peace, that for such a life as his there was forgiveness, through the atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ; and truly, as he left the Mission Hall that Sunday night, he knew that God Himself was pleading. But he refused the offered mercy, he turned away from the outstretched hand, and now the day of grace was past, time was over, eternity had begun.

Thus ended a life that had commenced with bright possibilities, when Stephen Mellor was clerk in a Manchester warehouse, with a good salary and a comfortable home. But, not content with his honest earnings, he was induced by bad companions to try his luck at gambling, and this seemed such an easy way of making money, until the losses began to exceed the gains. Then came dishonesty, and Mellor's employer was robbed to pay the "debts of honour," as he called them, by way of satisfying his conscience. Forgery followed; the discovery of which necessitated a hasty and secret flight. And so, pursued by justice, haunted by bitter memories, covered with disgrace, disowned by relatives, and surrounded by poverty and shame, for seven years the man had wandered, barely avoiding detection, and living he hardly knew how; thus bringing, not only on himself, but on his wife and innocent boys, dreadful wretchedness and destitution.

But all was over now, and it was with almost a sense of relief that his wife turned away from the Infirmary and went back to Preece's Place. No more fear of detection, no more need to support her husband's falsehoods by her own—and her cheek burned with shame as she thought of the life of deceit that for his sake she had lived. No more angry threats or blows, no more cruelty to the boys. All was ended now, and for the future, she, with Phil and Rob, might know far more of peace and happiness than for long years before.

But to Phil the thought of his father's death was very terrible; for though there was no grief at his loss (how could there be?) there was an awful fear that death had found him wholly unprepared for the great change. Nay, something more than a fear; a sad certainty, as it seemed, for the last days were days of unconsciousness, and how could he pray then? There was only one ray of comfort; he and Rob had been praying for him, and perhaps God had heard and answered their prayers. But they could not even do that now, and it seemed so strange the first night after the father's death, when he and Rob knelt (as always) to say their evening prayers, not to pray for him.

Rob, through force of habit, was just beginning to do so, when Phil stopped him.

"It's no use now, Rob, to pray for father! You see he's dead;" and the lad hesitated, as if hardly knowing what more to say. A kind of shudder passed through him as he recalled the cold, lifeless form which lay in the silence of death up at the Infirmary.

"Where do you think father is now, Phil?"

The words came very softly and tremblingly from Rob, who could hardly realize as yet that the father whom he had always feared was gone for ever.

"I don't know, Rob; it's very dreadful, but—but—I don't see how he can be in heaven, because there's nobody there who hasn't been washed in the blood of Jesus, and who doesn't love Him; and I'm afraid father didn't do that!"

Rob trembled. "Oh, Phil, I'd rather he was back here, even if he did thrash us, wouldn't you? It's so dreadful to think that if he isn't in heaven he must be—" and the child stopped, as if afraid to utter the dreadful alternative, and clung closer to his brother.

"There, Rob, we won't talk any more about it. But I tell you what, we'll pray a great deal more for mother. I expect she'll be different now; for I'm sure father used to make her do lots of things she didn't want to, and we'll try to be very good and kind to her. Perhaps she will come up to the Mission Hall with us again, and hear all about Jesus. And, oh, Rob, if she learns to love Him too, shan't we all be happy here!"

A brighter prospect rose before the poor lad's eyes, a possibility of peace and love, ay, perhaps of comfort too; for wasn't he in work now? and their mother would be more free to do what she could. So, with bright anticipations and a firm confidence in a Heavenly Father's love and care, the boys lay down to forget in sleep their sorrows and their joys.

### CHAPTER IX.

#### JASPER'S PROMISE.

NEW YEAR'S DAY, and the fog which for nearly a week had hovered, more or less, over Helmstone had lifted, and bright sunshine came in its stead, as if to give promise of brighter days in store, during the new untrodden year. So at least it seemed to Phil as he started out fresh and early to go to his work. He was quite settled at Mr. Cross's now, and was giving every satisfaction.

"An uncommonly sharp boy; dependable too," was his master's opinion; "and if he sticks to me, I'll stick to him, and make a man of him before I've done."

The day before, when Phil had asked for some time "off," to go to his father's funeral, Mr. Cross had a talk with the lad, and learned more of his history then; for, now that Mellor was dead, Phil felt less afraid to talk about him. Before, there was always a dread lest anything he might say should lead to suspicion or possible detection; for he knew well enough that his father's life would not bear inspection. But now there was no fear.

On the last day of the old year he, with his mother and Rob, had stood by the open grave, and seen the body of Stephen Mellor laid in its last resting-place. A dreary time it had been, up there on that exposed bleak portion of the cemetery known as the paupers' ground, amid a drizzling rain and fog, to stand the only mourners, shivering and silent. Yet hardly sorrowful, as the husband and father was committed to the earth, there to await the resurrection morning.

Therefore Phil had talked more freely to Mr. Cross, and told him some of the difficulties and hardships of his young life, and at the same time, filled with hope, had spoken on the future he longed for, until his master almost smiled at the strange mixture of childish expectations and manly common-sense.

"And so you're going to keep the family now on your six shillings a week, are you?" he said, when Phil had finished.

"No, sir, not on that; but you see mother will do a little now, and after I leave here of an evening, I often pick up something carrying parcels; and then, before I come here of a morning, I earn twopence a day and my breakfast for cleaning boots and knives at a house near, where Mr. Armstrong spoke for me; and then you see, sir, God is bound to provide for us, because mother is a widow, and Rob and I are fatherless. I don't quite know how we are going to get all we want; but I'm sure that we shall. It's the clothes are the trouble; rent and food I can manage, and mother says I can get a deal more for my money than she can; only, you see, clothes cost such a lot. But I'm not afraid, and perhaps some day, sir, I shall be your shopman instead of your errand boy (for I mean to stay with you, Mr. Cross); and then when I'm dressed so respectably, you'll forget how shabby poor little Phil Mellor was."

Mr. Cross laughed; like every one else, he had been irresistibly attracted by the lad; his perfect genuineness and openness, together with his quaint sharpness, had won his employer's heart, and made him feel he would do all in his power to help on the boy who was so ready to help himself.

"See here, Phil; now that I've made up my mind to keep you, you shall have one of my caps;" and Mr. Cross produced a new shiny cap, with white letters around the crown, "Mr. Cross, News-agent." "Now, you see, you are marked as one of my boys, so you must take care how you behave yourself;" and putting the cap on his head with a good-natured pat, he told him to be off for the two or three hours he wanted to bury his father, but to return in time to fetch the evening papers by the five o'clock train.

After the funeral Phil returned to his work, and his mother went to the Infirmary to fetch her husband's clothes; and Rob, being left alone, stole round to his old friend, and found him as usual smoking his pipe over the stove.

"Ah, Rob, I was looking for you. Come in, child."

Slowly Rob advanced, and then stood silent, a most unusual thing with him.

"What's the matter, Rob, eh?"

"He's buried, Mr. Jasper."

"What? your poor father?"

"Yes; mother and Phil and I have just been to the cemetery; and it was so cold and dismal, I didn't like it. And Phil is gone back to work, and mother is out, and I've nobody to talk to, and I feel so queer. I don't like funerals, Mr. Jasper."

"I don't suppose any of us like them, Rob; but it's got to be, you see. We must all come to it."

"I wonder if you'll be buried near father, Mr. Jasper."

The old man started. "Bless the child! what's put that in your head?"

"Well, because there's a bit of ground quite close with no graves on it; and you're getting so old, I thought 'twould be your turn soon."

But Jasper made no answer; he was for the moment startled at the child's direct question, but also blessedly conscious of a new experience—that, for the first time, the thought of death brought with it no fear. The fact of dying, the physical pain, maybe, had never troubled him; it was the afterward of death that had been the dread. But now, ever since that Christmas evening, just a week before, he knew that his sin had been dealt with in the person of Jesus, and that through the precious blood there was perfect forgiveness for him, so he had nothing to fear; for was not he "the sinner whom Jesus came to save?"

"Well, Rob, I don't much care where they put my old body, because I think I'll be with Jesus."

Rob stared; he had never heard his old friend talk like that before, and he did not quite know what to make of it, or what to say.

Jasper continued, "Look here! what would you say if I was to go with you and Phil on Sunday night up to your Mission Hall?"

The child fairly jumped with delight. "Oh, Mr. Jasper, will you really? Do you mean it?"

"That I do, Rob. I'm ashamed of myself that I haven't been long ago; but you see I've only just found out that 'tis all for me. Wonderful! wonderful!"

As he said the words, his eyes fell on the text that had been almost the first ray of light in that dark shed.

"And look here, Rob, if your Mr. Armstrong is up there Sunday, I'd like to tell him that I know 'tis true God cares for me. I didn't believe it when you brought home the card; but—but I know it now. Bless His Name!" And as he spoke his eyes filled with tears of grateful joy.

"Oh, Mr. Jasper, how glad Phil will be that you're going on Sunday! That will be, not to-morrow, but the day after. And we've been praying ever so long that Jesus would make you come; and I'm oh so glad!" And off ran the happy child to tell the good news to Phil.

And so the first Sunday in the New Year saw Jonas Jasper for the first time in the Mission Hall, which had been nicely decorated for the Christmas feasts, with evergreens and texts suitable to the season all round the walls.

Immediately behind the speaker's desk there stood out (in large white letters on a crimson ground) the very-text that had been so blessed to Jasper: "Unto you is born this day a Saviour"; and as the old man's eyes, aided by his spectacles, fell upon the words, he started with pleasure, and turning to Phil he said, "I'm right glad they've put up that verse. Is it always there?"

"Oh no, Mr. Jasper; it's only put up for Christmas time. You see, 'tisn't painted on the wall; it's only paper letters stuck on paper. I expect 'twill be gone by next Sunday."

##

"I wonder now what they'll do with it when they take it down?"

"I don't know; but we'll ask Mr. Forbes after the meeting. Do you want to have it?"

Jasper made no answer, for just then the service began; but his thoughts for some time were with the text, how he would like to have it, to put up across the bottom wall of his old shed, so that it would be always before him. But he must hearken to what was going on now. The singing was beautiful, and no mistake; and then, after prayer and reading of the Scriptures came a short, earnest address, to which Jasper listened with the greatest attention.

"Now, friends, it's New Year's Sunday, a sort of special night, it seems to me; and so, instead of taking a regular text, I want to talk to you about two words, both of which you will find in the Bible many times. The words are 'Hitherto' and 'Henceforth.' Hitherto, that means all our past life up to this very minute, the years that are gone. Henceforth, that means all our future life from this minute, the days that, maybe, are yet to come, if God spares us. To-night we stand, as it were, just between the two—looking back and looking forward."

"Let us look back first. I am sure that every one here can say what Samuel said, 'Hitherto hath the Lord helped us;' or what Joseph's children said, 'The Lord hath blessed me hitherto.' Yes; every day and hour of your life God has helped and blessed you, or you wouldn't be here to-night. But what have you done hitherto? Your past life, do you like to think about it? Are you quite satisfied with it? Do you like God to think about it? Your life up to the moment you entered this hall, what has it been? What is it? Honestly, now, do you wish this New Year to be just what past ones have been? Aren't you ashamed when you look back on a life stained with sin and spent in forgetfulness of God? 'Ah,' you say, 'but I mean to be different now. I've turned over a new leaf. I've signed the pledge and joined a Bible-reading Union, and I mean to attend here regularly.' But, my friends, 'God requireth that which is past;' and before we can talk about a better 'henceforth' we must settle a bad 'hitherto.' In 2 Cor. v Paul writes about changed lives, about those who henceforth were going to live, not unto themselves, but unto God. But before he speaks of this, he tells of One who died for all; of One whose blood was shed to blot out the stains of the guilty 'hitherto.'"

"Have you been to Jesus for the cleansing power?
Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?"

"Has your past, with all its sin, been blotted out of God's sight in the precious blood of Jesus? He offers now to do it, if you will come to Him, not excusing yourself, but confessing your sin; for 'if we confess our sin, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sin.' Then we can begin to talk about a better 'henceforth;' for when God forgives a man, He gives him a new heart, which is a new power to lead a new life; a life henceforth not unto themselves, not just seeking their own pleasure, but the pleasure and the glory of God."

"And so, when this question of the past is all settled, we can begin to look forward, and to say with David, 'The Lord is round about His people henceforth, even for ever.' After salvation comes safety; never alone any more when the devil comes along with temptation, or when sorrow or suffering are permitted to try us. Hitherto we've had to meet them alone; but henceforth God will be close at hand, As Jerusalem was sheltered all around by mountains, so every child of God shall be sheltered and protected by Him; and thus we can look forward to another year with its unknown path, and can say, 'I will trust, and not be afraid.'"

"But Paul looks farther ahead. When he was in prison, expecting almost every day to be led out to die, he wrote to Timothy, 'Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness.' Ah, he was expecting a reward! Are you? He had a bright prospect; have you? If Jesus has saved you, are you working for Him? It may be some of you haven't much longer to stay here. Oh, set to work at once, and tell some poor sinner how Jesus has forgiven you, and is waiting to do the same for them. Won't you be ashamed to meet your Saviour if you have never done anything for Him since He saved you? If this has been so 'hitherto,' oh, let 'henceforth' find you working for Jesus."

"And then, when the last call has come—and it may come very soon—and your place here is empty, and we miss you, and look for you in vain, there will come a message from the other world about you, 'Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth; yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours, and their works do follow them.' Yes, they rest in Jesus. Oh, blessed prospect! Is it yours? Should you to-night, if the call came, 'die in the Lord'? or should you be among those of whom Jesus said, 'Ye shall die in your sins'? Oh, friends, this evening God speaks to you in love. Bring your guilty 'hitherto,' your life that has been spent in sin, to the cross of Jesus now, and you shall know what it is to say,—"

"The cross now covers my sins;
The past is under the blood."

"'Henceforth' my life here shall be for Jesus. 'Henceforth' my life there shall be with Jesus."

Tears were streaming down Jasper's cheeks as the speaker ceased; and while the closing hymn was sung the old man remained seated with his face buried in his hands. Not until the service had closed, and the people were beginning to move, did he raise his head.

Phil and Rob stood by, looking almost frightened, and quite glad to see Mr. Armstrong come up, and with a word of kindly welcome say, "I think this must be Mr. Jasper, that I've so often heard of from our young friends here."

Jonas looked up. "Yes, sir, that's my name," he said.

"I'm very glad to see you here on this New Year's Sunday."

"Ah, I wish I had come before; but you see 'tis only a week ago I found out that Jesus had died for me; and now I'm thinking I haven't long to stay here for certain, and I've never done anything for Him, and I'll be downright ashamed when I see Him."

"There's no reward for me; my past has been so bad. I reckon my 'henceforth' will be very short. Ah, 'tis a bad thing to be without Christ so long, and only to find Him just at the last! These boys here," and he looked lovingly at Phil and Rob, "they won't ever have to feel as I do now; for they have begun young to love Jesus; and if it hadn't been for them, sir, I'd never have thought about these things. 'Twas their talk and their hymns that told me about Jesus. And your card that you gave to Rob for me was the very beginning of it all;" and the old man laid his hand tenderly on Rob, who stood listening with wonder to all that Jasper was saying.

For a moment there was silence; and then Mr. Armstrong, who was touched indeed at the simple confession, said brightly, "Then I'm sure I can wish you a 'Happy New Year;' for it must be that, now that you have found Jesus to be your Saviour."

"Ah, but 'twas He found me, sir; He found me He came right into my old dark shed 'seeking for me,' as the boys sang on Christmas Day. Ah, it was wonderful, wonderful! And I've got nothing to give Him in return, nothing, nothing!"

Fast fell the tears from the old man's eyes.

"Well, but you can begin now to do something for Jesus. Tell your neighbours and your friends how the Lord has saved you, and that He will do the same for them; and perhaps through your words some soul will be led to seek Him too, and then there will be a reward for you. So rejoice in the Lord, my brother, and be glad." With these cheering words Mr. Armstrong bade him good-night, promising to pay him a visit before long. And then, between the boys who loved him so dearly, Jonas Jasper walked slowly home, after this his first visit to the Mission Hall; and that night, from the dreary attic in which Phil and Rob lay down to rest, there went up heartfelt praise to God as the two lads knelt to say their evening prayer; and Phil, in simple, touching words, thanked God for the answer given, because Mr. Jasper loved their Jesus too.

"And, O Lord, please to do the same for mother, because we want her to be different; and help Rob and I to tell her about Jesus, and to sing to her, like we did to him; and may she be washed white in the blood of Jesus; for Christ's sake. Amen."

And lying there, not asleep as her boys had thought, but wide awake, Mrs. Mellor heard Phil's prayer, heard the earnest pleadings that she too might be different, might be saved. The words went home to her heart. "Different? Yes, that was just what she wanted; but was it possible? So many years of sin, of forgetfulness of God! Could she ever be different now?"

And from her heart, so weary, so crushed, so hopeless, there went up an earnest "Amen" to Phil's prayer, inaudible indeed to any mortal ear but heard so quickly, so gladly by that loving Father who is always listening for a sinner's cry, and who said of her that night, as of Saul of old, "Behold, she prayeth."

### CHAPTER X.

#### JASPER'S TROUBLE.

TRUE to his promise, Phil asked Forbes to save the text that Jasper so desired to have; and when the Christmas decorations were taken down from the Hall, Forbes himself put aside the crimson banner that had hung over the platform, bearing its Christmas message, "Unto you is born this day a Saviour;" and the next evening, when "off duty," made his way up to Jasper's shed, carrying with him the words that had brought such joy to the old man's heart.

From Phil, Forbes had heard something of the story of Jasper's conversion, and so he was glad of an excuse to go up and rejoice with him in his new-found happiness. But on reaching the shed, and gaining admittance only after repeated knockings, he was surprised to find Jasper sitting with his face buried in his hands, and the tears falling from his eyes.

"Why, Jasper, what's the meaning of this? I thought to find you brimful of joy. What ails you, man?" and the constable laid a kindly hand on the old man's shoulder, as he repeated his inquiry.

For a moment there was no answer, and then, raising his head, Jasper said, "'Tis stupid of me to give way like this, but—but 'twill be the death of me."

"Death of you! What do you mean?"

"Why, don't you know? Haven't you heard that they're going to turn me out—out of my old place, where I've been for more than forty years? They might let it 'bide as 'tis a little while longer. I shall soon be gone, and then they can do as they like; but 'tis hard on an old man to pull his place down, and turn him out when he's close upon eighty. 'Alterations and improvements,' the man said who called here; and this old shed and all the block of buildings behind it are to be pulled down, and I've got to clear out at once, and it's almost too much for me! But there, I oughtn't to 'take on' so, because I know my Saviour will look after me. Only it came so sudden upon me, I can't get over it yet." And Jasper cast his eyes round the dingy old place that, in spite of all its discomforts and drawbacks, had become so dear to him, his home for forty years!

"Well, 'tis an upset, for certain! Of course I'd heard some talk of these new improvements; but I didn't know that 'twas really settled upon, and I am sorry for you to have to shift. Though I don't think 'twill be hard to find a better place, and then we'll soon get you moved in."

Jasper shook his head. "That's what you'll never do," he said. "My chattels can't be moved; they're like me, too old. Why, those barrels will fall to pieces if you shift 'em; and all my bits of things are too shaky to stand it. No, if I must go I must, but my things can't; and what's to become of me I don't know."

"But God does, my friend, and as your text up there says, 'He careth for you.'"

At these words Jasper brightened. "I've been forgetting," he said; "but it did seem hard not to fret. And the boys, they're nearly as much cut up as I am about it. You see we love the old place, and it's hard to go, it's hard to go; and all in a fortnight too."

"A fortnight! Ah, well, that will give us time to look about. And now, see, I've brought the text that you wanted from the Hall;" and unrolling his package, Forbes displayed the banner that Jasper had so desired.

"Ah!" he said, fixing his eyes on it, "tis beautiful every way, and I thought 'twould look so nice on my wall there, just where I could see it; but it's no use now to fix it up."

But Forbes thought differently. "We will fix it up all the same," he said. "'Twill cheer you up a bit to look at it, and I take it that the Lord is a Saviour not only from sin, but for times of trouble as well; and so He'll see you through this business too." So saying, he hung the banner up just opposite Jasper's chair, making it fast with two strong nails. Then sitting down, he drew from Jonas the story of that Christmas evening, when God's own message had come to his heart, through the boys to whom he had been such a friend.

"And to think I never found it before," he said, as he finished his recital.

"Ah, that's what we all say when we find out the joy of having the Lord Jesus, Jasper. But maybe He'll spare you a good while yet to tell others of His love."

Jasper shook his head. "No, no," he said; "I'm breaking up, as folk say. This cold weather has cut me very sharp, and I'm not the man I was, even three months ago. I did get up to the Hall last week, but I'd all my work to reach home again; you see, 'tis a tidy step from here to John Street. Rob terribly wanted me to go again Sunday, but my knees are so stiff with rheumatics I couldn't walk, so he stayed here and sang to me; and then Phil came in later and read to me, and told me what the preacher had been saying—about heaven, wasn't it? Ah, 'twill be beautiful to get there."

"Yes, Jasper; no shifting then. The Lord tells us we shall go no more out for ever, bless His name! But I must be off now."

"Wait half a minute, Forbes, will you? I want to speak to you about something;" and Jasper rose from his chair, and going over to the shelf, reached down the old pickle jar, that contained the savings of so many years. "There isn't so very much," he said; "but what little I have put by is here. I'd like to be buried respectably, and then, if there's anything over, why, it's for the boys, bless 'em. Only I wish you to have the handling of it, and perhaps you'd take care of it for me until I know what is to become of me."

So saying, he drew from the jar a dark canvas bag, and handed it to Forbes.

"There must be close on forty pounds, I think," he said; "but 'twill be safer with you than with me; and if I want any of it (and I do owe a trifle or two), you can just let me have it."

Forbes took the bag. "It shall be as you wish," he said; "but we'll count it first;" and untying the string, there rolled out a little stream of gold and silver, amounting altogether to £38 14s. 3d.

"Ah, I wasn't far wrong, you see; that will be something over for Rob, won't it? I think perhaps he'll want it more than Phil; but I leave all that to you. I know I can trust you, and I shall feel easier in my mind now that I've told you. Good-night, and thank you for your call."

When Forbes had gone, and Jasper was left alone he sat there over his fire, far on into the night, gazing ever and anon at the texts on his wall.

"It must be right," he said. "'He careth for you;' and it will be true of every day, and the Lord will help me through, as Forbes said."

So at last, wearied even with trying to think out his future plans, the old man feebly ascended the steps that led to his bedroom, and after an evening prayer, simple and heartfelt as a child's, he lay down, and forgot in sleep all that had been troubling him.

The next day Jonas was surprised by a visit from Rob's mother, who came in search of Rob. "He hasn't been home since he went to school this morning," she said, "and I made sure he'd be here with you, Mr. Jasper; so I looked in to see. But he doesn't seem to be here."

"Not just now, ma'am; but 'tisn't long ago he left. He had a bit of dinner with me, and then he started off, bless his heart! to find a place for me to move into when they turn me out of here. I believe he has walked half over Helmstone at this job. He was at it yesterday, and Phil too, in his spare time; they've taken it on themselves to find out every shed there is, so that I might be fixed up again; but they won't do it, they won't do it;" and Jasper sat down and relapsed into silence.

Mrs. Mellor stood, hardly knowing what to say. Of course she had heard from the boys of Jasper's upset, and was sorry indeed for the old man; so presently she ventured to say as much. "And I'm sure Phil and Rob take it to heart dreadful. I don't know what they'd do without you, Mr. Jasper."

Jonas turned and looked at his visitor. "I don't know what I should do without them," he said. "They're wonderful children, those boys of yours; and if it hadn't been for them, I'd never have known the Saviour came seeking for me. Ah! you don't know what messages the Lord has sent me through them; and when I get to heaven and see the dear Lord for myself, I'll just thank Him that ever He sent them in my way, and I'll ask Him to bless them always. I wonder now if they talk to you as they do to me?"

Mrs. Mellor shook her head, and a tear ran down her cheeks. "They were afraid, poor dears, to say much before their father; he would swear at them so, though Phil often tried to read some of his Bible out loud; but since my husband died they have sung some of their hymns and read to me; only somehow it doesn't seem to have much meaning. It's all real enough to them, and I only wish I was like them, for they are good boys, and no mistake."

"Ah, Mrs. Mellor, you haven't got so many years of sin to look back upon as I have; but the Lord has saved and forgiven me, and He'll do the same for you. Look there!" and Jasper pointed to the Christmas banner; that was the text that made it all plain to me. "'Unto you,' that's me; 'this day,' that's now; 'is born a Saviour,' that's just what I want; and it's for you too, Mrs. Mellor; and you ask the boys to sing to you the hymns they sang to me on Christmas night, and I'm sure He will do as much for you as He did for such a black sinner as me."

Just then Rob arrived, full of excitement because he had seen "the very place that would do for Mr. Jasper." 'Twas much nicer than this, and he must go in the morning and see it, and 'twas quite near the Mission Hall, and would be lovely. And so he rattled on, trying to inspire his old friend with his own eager expectancy.

But after Rob and his mother had gone, and Jasper was alone once more, with his doors closed and the lamp alight, he shook his head and said half aloud, "No, Rob, no; I'm too old to move. I don't know, I'm sure, but 'twill all come right somehow." And then reaching down his Bible, he opened it at its last page, and for a long time sat reading about heaven. "And it's all for me; all ready for me," he whispered. "Lord Jesus, I thank Thee that I'm ready too, washed and white."

### CHAPTER XI.

#### THE HOME CALL.

THE next morning dawned bright and beautiful, and even Preece's Place looked cheerful in the January sunshine, that was trying in vain to find its way into Jasper's old shed; for the doors were closely shut, so that only one tiny ray could penetrate through a crack.

Rob, who paid an early visit to his old friend, that he might take him to see the new quarters, was astonished to find the place still closed, and after repeated knockings (all of which were in vain) he turned away, thinking that Jasper must have gone by himself to see the shed in John Street, and would soon be back.

But two hours later Forbes, coming up to bring a receipt for the money entrusted to him, found the doors still shut, and seeing that they were fastened from the inside, he began to feel uneasy; so at last, after knocking and calling in vain, he forced the door, and then going in, he found the old man sitting indeed in his chair, his Bible open on his knees at Rev. xxii, his eyes fixed upon the Christmas text—but the spirit had fled! Whilst he sat reading about heaven, messengers from heaven had come at the bidding of the King, and away from the dreary, dismal shed had they borne him to the land that knows no change, no night, no sorrow; and as the constable stood gazing at the lifeless form, the soul of Jonas Jasper was in the presence of Jesus Himself, and his eyes were seeing "the King in His beauty."

Laying his hand on the pulse that had ceased to beat, Forbes stood for a moment awestruck, and then, though in no doubt as to what happened, he ran quickly for a doctor, and finding one just outside, he brought him in. But one glance at the rigid features was enough, and in few words the surgeon confirmed Forbes' opinion.

"Of course this must be inquired into," he said; "but there is every appearance of a most quiet, peaceful, sudden death—old age its probable cause. I will attend and do all that is necessary when required;" and away he walked, leaving Forbes alone in the presence of the dead.

Lifting his eyes for a moment, they fell on Rob's text, "He careth for you," which only two days before he had repeated to the old man. "And it's true," he said softly. "The Lord knew he couldn't stand the upset of a move, and He cared so much for him that He's taken him right away out of it all, to rest for ever with Himself."

No sooner had Forbes lodged the necessary information at the Police Station, than the news of Jasper's sudden death soon spread through Preece's Place and its neighbourhood. On inquiry it was found that no one had entered the shed after Mrs. Mellor and Rob left on the previous evening; and so Jasper's last words on earth had been of Jesus, as he pointed a weary sinner to the Saviour whom he had found.

It was no easy matter to break the news to Rob; but it fell to Forbes to do it, as he met the child just outside the shed, coming home from school, to go in and see his old friend.

"You can't go in, Rob; Jasper isn't there."

"Hasn't he come back yet, Mr. Forbes?"

"No."

"Then I'm sure he won't be much longer, and I can go in and wait till he comes."

Forbes laid his hand on Rob's head. "You'll have to wait a long, long time, Rob; for he'll never come back any more. The Lord Jesus has sent for him to-night, and he has left the old shed and gone right away up to heaven."

For a moment the child stared, as if hardly comprehending the policeman's words, and then all of a sudden he seemed to take in the meaning. "Is my Mr. Jasper dead? Do you mean that?"

"Yes, my boy; he's with Jesus now."

In an instant Rob crouched down against the door, and bursting into a passionate flood of tears, sobbed as though his heart would break; and indeed, if such a thing were possible to a child, Rob was very near it then. In vain Forbes tried to coax him away, and finding all effort useless, he took him up in his strong arms and carried him, still sobbing and shivering, home to his wife.

"Let him stay here a bit until I can send Phil round to him," he said, telling her what had happened. "Poor little chap, it's a sad blow for him!"

So for some time he lay in Mrs. Forbes' kind, motherly arms, asking between his sobs, in piteous voice, if it was really true that his Mr. Jasper was gone! But as she talked to him about heaven, and its glories and joys, and told him that his old friend was so happy there, and would be looking out for him to come too, the child was calmed, and by-and-by, worn out with weeping, fell into a sweet sleep, and ere he woke Phil had come to fetch him.

After all, he was the best comforter; and so, sadly and wearily the brothers made their way back to Preece's Place, their hearts full of sorrow at the unexpected loss of their old friend. And when, on the way home, they passed the shed, all closed and silent, Rob shuddered afresh, and creeping closer to Phil, burst again into tears.

"Shan't we ever go in there any more, Phil?"

"I expect not, Rob; you see 'twill be pulled down soon, and you know it is very nice for Mr. Jasper not to have to turn out, and I expect Jesus knew how 'twas troubling him, and so He took him right away, and we must be very glad for him, Rob."

But Rob could find no comfort anywhere, and poor Mrs. Mellor was sorely perplexed to know what to do with her tearful boys; but by-and-by she reminded them of what Jasper had said only the night before—that they must read to her, and sing to her, as they had done to him.

So Phil got out his Bible and read, and Rob tried to listen; but ere long, wearied with his sorrow, he fell asleep, and so forgot for a while the grief that had filled his heart. But Phil sat up talking to his mother; the sudden death of the old man had touched her not a little.

"To think that this time last night I was talking to him," she said, "and now he's dead. It's enough to make one shiver, when you see how soon anybody may be gone."

And so Phil, in his simple way, told her all he knew of God's plan of salvation. "And if we come to Jesus, mother, and ask Him to forgive us, He will, and He'll wash away all our sins, and then, if our sins are all gone, we needn't be afraid to die."

"And how do you know that your sins are all gone, Phil?"

"Why, mother, because I asked Jesus to take them away, and He promised to do it for every one who asks; and I'm sure He keeps His promises."

And when Phil had fallen asleep his mother lay awake, restlessly tossing to and fro, recalling what her boy had said. There rose before her the memory of a life-time's sin. Could all that be forgiven at once? Nay, surely not. She must make herself a little better before she could expect God to help her. But (and a shudder passed through her) perhaps while she was trying to make herself better the call might come to her, as it had to Jasper, and find her not ready. So, haunted by fear, and yet inspired by hope, she lay thinking, thinking, thinking, quite unconscious that the Saviour Himself was standing by her side, unseen, indeed, but none the less really there, waiting to take the burden of a life's sins away. She was very near the kingdom, for she had seen herself a sinner, and er long would come the message to her troubled heart, "Daughter, be of good cheer. Thy sins, which are many, are all forgiven."

### CHAPTER XII.

#### BRIGHTER DAYS.

FOR more than six weeks old Jasper had been lying at rest up on a sunny slope in the Helmstone Cemetery; and in the meantime his shed was pulled down, and men busily at work were digging out the foundations for a new and improved block of buildings, to stretch right away from Preece's Place to the adjoining street beyond. Forbes, acting on the instructions given him by Jasper, had arranged everything; and after paying two or three little debts and all funeral expenses, found a nice balance of nearly £30 in hand for the boys. Consulting with Mr. Armstrong, he decided to put it by for the present in the Post Office Savings Bank, after buying a little clothing for the lads—an absolute necessity, for Rob's feet were almost through to the ground, and his trousers persistently refused to hang together any longer.

Of course any pressing needs must be met, for such surely would have been Jasper's wish; but it would be nice to have a little money in hand, to give the lads a start one day. Though indeed Phil seemed to have made his start at Mr. Cross's, and was already raised a shilling per week. Mrs. Mellor, too, had obtained two or three days' regular work every week, so that altogether their prospect was brightening.

Time, the great healer, had already done wonders in soothing the sorrow caused by Jasper's death, and Rob would stand watching with keen interest all that was going on in the new building, forgetting for the time the happy memories of the past associated with the spot. But when he went to the cemetery, the old grief would wake up again; and many a time had he been found lying on Jasper's grave, and sobbing as though his little heart would break. But this was only sometimes; and when at day or Sunday School he was the same bright, happy lad as before.

To him and Phil had come one great joy. Ever since Jasper's death their mother had gone with them every Sunday evening to their much-loved Mission Hall; she was getting quite known there now, and some of the folk had been to see her.

##

But one day who should come but Mr. Armstrong himself! Neither Phil nor Rob was at home—much to their grief, when they heard he had been; but it was Mrs. Mellor he wanted, and after a few words of kindly inquiry he made known the purport of his visit.

"Mrs. Forbes is finding the work up at the Hall too much," he said. "It's a large place altogether to keep clean, and it is so much used that it needs constant scrubbing; so I came to see if you could give her regular help, I mean in the way of the cleaning. Of course you wouldn't be wanted every day; but I daresay altogether it might come to nearly three days a week. At all events, I can offer you seven shillings a week to do what is required in the time that will suit you best."

Mrs. Mellor was delighted. "It's the very thing I want," she said; "and I'll be only too thankful to do it; and then I think, perhaps, I might move into a better place than this, and get things a little bit more comfortable round me for my boys; for I was never used to being like this."

"I thought as much," said Mr. Armstrong; and then gently and kindly he drew from her the story of her life, and the burden of its sin, that now lay so heavily upon her. "It is a burden," he said, when she had finished; "but one that you needn't bear another moment, for Jesus offers to take it from you now."

"That's what Phil says," she replied; "but I don't seem to see how."

"Look here, my friend," and taking from his pocket a Bible, Mr. Armstrong opened it at Isaiah liii. 6, and read, "'All we like sheep have gone astray.' Is that true of you?"

"Yes, indeed, sir."

"'We have turned every one to his own way;' and is that true too?"

"Ah, that it is, and no mistake."

"Very well, then you admit so far that God's Word is true. You don't doubt it?"

"No, sir; it's perfectly true."

"Now then, listen to the end of the same verse: 'and the Lord hath laid on Him (Jesus) the iniquity of us all.' Now is that true also, or must we cut the verse in two, and take only the first part of it for ourselves?"

The woman paused.

"God laid upon Jesus the burden of your sin—its guilt, its punishment—and Jesus accepted it, and undertook to be responsible for it all; so can't you trust it to Him? For, you see, a burden can't be in two places at once, and if God has put it upon Jesus, He has taken it away from you, and now, at this moment, He tells you that by His blood He has paid the debt of your sin, and lifted from you its burden. Will you believe Him or not? See for yourself what He says;" and putting his finger on the verse, he pointed her to it.

For a moment she sat, as if hardly able to take it in, and then lifting her eyes, which were filled with tears, to Mr. Armstrong, she said tremblingly, "Yes, sir, if any of it is true, it is all true. I see it now. I am still a sinner, but Jesus has had to suffer for it instead of me!"

And so a twofold joy came into the dreary attic that day, and the burden of sin and the burden of poverty were alike lifted from Mrs. Mellor's life.

A few days more, and she with the boys had moved into small but clean rooms, not far from the Mission Hall. Friends had provided some additional furniture, and so amid brighter surroundings the winter passed away, and spring filled the earth with gladness—a gladness that found its way into the Mellors' home, and stayed there too. For it was God Himself who put the gladness into their hearts—a joy that no man could take from them—even His own presence and peace.

And so the years rolled on, and Phil's dream of being Mr. Cross's shopman was realized. Step by step he rose, until by-and-by he stood second only to the "master" himself; and folk did say that as Mr. Cross had no son, there was no knowing but what Phil might have the business one day.

Rob, whilst at school, showed such an ability for learning that his master wanted him to go in for teaching and be his pupil teacher. And it was then old Jasper's money came so handy to pay for books and fees; and when the years of training and study were over, Rob obtained an excellent appointment at a school only a few miles from Helmstone, so that he could come over for his Sundays in the comfortable home which he and Phil together kept for their mother; and could still attend the much-loved Mission Hall, where he and his brother were teachers now, instead of scholars, trying to tell others that old, old story which had been such a power in their own lives.

Jasper's memory was still sweet and sacred to both, and his grave (marked now by a tombstone which they had erected) often attracted their steps thither; for now in happy prosperity they could never forget the days of their childhood, when, amid so much that was hard and dreary, they always found the sunshine of love and sympathy in Jasper's old shed.

THE END.

Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London.

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