THE MISSION SCHOOL
The children were not always so successful as on the day when Willie first began to sell his matches. Sometimes, indeed, they took scarcely anything, and poor little Willie would get tired and faint through having to go all day with nothing eat.
One day Bob saw a gentleman jump off his horse and look for some one to hold it while he went into a shops. He darted up to him and asked to be allowed to do it.
"You don't look very big, my lad," said the gentleman; "but you may try.
Don't let him run away."
Bob found it hard work, for the gentleman was a long time, and the pony was restive, but he was a plucky little chap and would not give in. The gentleman had been keeping his eye on him through the shop-window, and when he came out he said—"Well done, my boy! You'll make a fine man some day," and he thrust a shilling into the boy's hand.
Bob was overjoyed with his good fortune as he showed it to Willie. "See 'ere, Willie," he said. "We'll 'ave a tuck-in to-night." And on the way to Mrs. Blair's they stood some time before a pastrycook's, trying to make up their minds which of the good things they should buy. First they thought they would like one thing and then another, but at last decided upon some meat pies, which, nicely arranged in the window, looked very tempting to the hungry boys.
Mrs. Blair was delighted to hear of their success. Handing her the change,
Bob said—-
"Please'm, will yer mind this money for me?" He had long before paid her the remaining three-pence that he owed.
"'Course I will," she said. "Are you saving up?"
"Yes'm; you see it's gettin' cold now, and Willie's clothes is awful thin.
I want to git 'im some more."
"So they are," she answered. "Yours too, I think."
"Oh, them don't matter," he replied. "But Willie's on'y a little chap;
I must take care on 'im."
Mrs. Blair was often touched when she noticed this boy's devotion to his little brother. He never seemed to care what hardships he went through himself, but Willie must be shielded at all costs.
It took a long time to save up the required sum, but at length Bob managed it, and one night the boy came in with an old coat and a pair of shoes tucked under his arm. Of course the coat was not a very good fit, and the shoes were too large: but Bob had picked up the two at an old clothes-shop for two shillings, and they were the best he could do. At any rate, they were whole, and they would keep Willie warm.
It was a miserably foggy evening in November. The roads were frightfully dirty, and Bob worked with all his might to keep the crossing clean; but the people all seemed in too much of a hurry to take any notice of the little sweeper, and Willie fared no better with his matches. Fairly worn out and tired, the little fellow began to cry.
"Let's go 'ome, Bob," he sobbed. "I'm so cold."
"All right," returned the other. "Seems no use to stop 'ere.
Folks ain't got nothin' for us to-night."
Bob shouldered his broom, and they turned off down a side street.
They had not gone far when Willie suddenly stopped.
"'Ark, Bob! Wot's that?" he whispered.
"Sounds like as if some one was a-singin'," was he answer.
"P'raps we shall come to 'em in a minute. Come on!"
Buoyed up by this suggestion Willie quickened his footsteps, and presently they came to a small hall, which was brilliantly lighted. [The children stopped, and Bob peeped in at the door.] The place seemed to be almost full of children, some of whom were quite as ragged as himself. They were all singing lustily, and the two boys could hear the words—-
"Suffer little children to come unto Me."
"Don't it sound prime, Willie?" said Bob. Shall we go in?"
"Yes, do; it'll be warm in there."
So Bob pushed open the door, and trying to make as little noise as possible, so as not to attract attention, the two boys shuffled in. In his anxiety, however, he managed to drop his broom, which fell with a thud on the floor, the noise of which caused all the children to stop their singing and turn round to look at him. This was too much for the poor little fellow, and he tried to get out again as quickly as he came in. Just as he was turning to go, however, a lady with the most beautiful face he had even, came up, and, laying her hand upon his shoulder, said, "Don't go away, dear. Come and sit down!" and she led them to a form near the stove. At the same time, a man who was standing upon a low platform at the other end of the room called out in a quick voice—"Attention, children!" and immediately the singing went on again. After the hymn was finished the children seated them-selves, and the gentleman spoke to them about the One who had said "Suffer little children." He pictured to them the scene of Jesus going on His journey surrounded by His disciples. He told them how the mothers came, bringing their little children along the hot dusty road to meet Him, and how delighted they were when Jesus took the little ones up in His arms and blessed them. And then he held up before them a picture, and, pointing to the central figure, he said—-
"Look, dear children, this Man with the kind face is Jesus. See how lovingly He looks at the little children. Wouldn't some of you have liked to have been there?"
A low murmured "Yes!" came from the children as they listened breathlessly.
"Well, dear children," he went on, "Jesus loves you as much as He loved those children. He is sorry for you when you are hungry and cold. He wants you to be good too, for it makes Him very sad when you steal, or say bad words, or quarrel and fight. He is getting a beautiful place ready for you to live in; but you must let Him help you to be good, and some day He will send His angel to fetch you to go and live in that beautiful place."
After he had finished speaking, Miss Elton, the lady who had spoken to Bob at the door, came up to the platform, and in a sweet, clear voice, so that the children could understand every word, she sang to them the well-known hymn—-
"I think when I read that sweet story of old."
There was a pin-drop silence in the room when she left off and then they all sang a hymn together, after which the gentleman prayed a short, simple prayer, and the meeting was over.
With much noise the little ragged children departed to their homes, but Bob sat on like one in a dream.
Presently Miss Elton came up to him, and said—-
"Well my little man, aren't you going home?"
"Please'm," he said eagerly, "do you think as 'ow 'e'll let me take Willie to 'im? "
"What do you mean, dear?" she asked.
"Why 'im as we was told about to-night."
"Do you mean Jesus?" she asked.
Bob nodded.
"Yes, dear," was the answer. "He wants Willie and you too.
Have you ever heard about Jesus before?"
"No," was the answer.
So she tried to explain in a very simple way, which both the children could understand, the sweet story of Jesus. "He is watching you, and Willie too," she said, "and He wants to help you to be good boys, so that you may grow up to be good He loves you very, very much. Will you let Him?"
"I wish 'e would," said Bob. "Don't you, Willie? On'y, I don't see as 'ow
I can tell 'im."
"Well," was the answer, "if you kneel down, and shut your eyes, and speak to Him ever so softly, He will hear you. Listen!" And kneeling down beside the children she prayed—"Dear Jesus, these two little boys want You to help them to be good. They want to be made fit to live in Your beautiful home. Please help them. Amen."
The children looked at her for a moment or two, awed by her manner.
Then Bob asked—
"Did 'e 'ear yer?"
"Yes, dear, He did," was the reply; "and if you talk to Him, He will hear you too. But now it is getting late and you must take this little chap home. Will you come again another night, and hear some more about Jesus?"
"We'd like to, wouldn't we, Willie?"
Willie nodded. He could hardly take his eyes off the beautiful face of the lady, and for once he felt too shy to say much, but when he was outside the door his tongue became unloosed.
"Wasn't she a pretty lady, Bob? Shall we go and see her again?"
"'Course we will," was the decided answer. "But, Willie, wouldn't yer like to go an' see that kind man wot the gent told us about?"
"Yes," said Willie; "but where is 'e, Bob?"
"I dunno," said Bob; "but the lady said as 'ow 'e would 'ear us if we spoke to 'im. P'raps Mrs. Blair will tell us."
When the children arrived, at the house they found Mrs. Blair becoming very anxious about them, for it was not often they were so late now that the evenings were dark and cold.
"Why, laddies!" she exclaimed, "I thought you were lost.
Wherever 'ave you been?"
"Mrs. Blair," said Willie eagerly, "can you tell us the way to Jesus?"
"Bless the child!" she said, looking at Bob. "What on earth does he mean?"
"'Ain't you ever 'eerd about 'im?" asked Bob, looking very disappointed. "We've bin to a place where a lot o' children were singing about 'Suffer little children,' and then a man talked about one as was called Jesus, and 'e said 'e wanted all little boys like Willie an' me to be good so's we could go and live with 'im some day; and Willie and me wants to find the way, and now you can't 'elp us!" sadly and wistfully.
"No, child," she said huskily, "I'm afraid I can't. Be quick and get your suppers, for it's awful late, an' that little 'un ought to be in bed."
"Bob," whispered Willie, "yer'll speak to Jesus afore we go to bed, won't yer? The lady said 'e would 'ear."
So the two little waifs knelt in their corner with their eyes tightly shut, and Bob prayed in a low voice—-
"Please, Sir, me an' Willie wants to find Yer. Make us good boys, an' show us the way."
"Say 'men, Bob," said Willie, "like the lady did."
And Bob said "'men."