Here, Chico, lie down on
the top of us! Mother must have you back any way, Armie."
The little fellow was half-dozing, but words of prayer and faith kept
dropping from his tongue. Pain, and a stronger vitality alike, kept
Jock free from the torpor, and he used his utmost efforts to rouse
his brother; but every now and then a horrible conviction of the
hopelessness of their condition came over him.
"Oh!" he groaned out, "how is it to be if this is the end of it?
What is to become of a fellow that has been like me?"
Armine only spoke one word; the Name that is above every name.
"Yes, you always cared! But I never cared for anything but fun!
Never went to Communion at Easter. It is too late."
"Oh, no, no!" cried Armine, rousing up, "not too late! Never! You
are His! You belong to Him! He cares for you!"
"If He does, it makes it all the worse. I never heeded; I thought it
all a bore. I never let myself think what it all meant. I've thrown
it all away."
"Oh! I wish I wasn't so stupid," cried Armine, with a violent effort
against his exhaustion. "Mother loves us, however horrid we are! He
is like that; only let us tell Him all the bad we've done, and ask
Him to blot it out. I've been trying-—trying—-only I'm so dull; and
let us give ourselves more and more out and out to Him, whether it is
here or there.
Pages:
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379