The tale was not a now one to Mat, but it was one which, by the family of Michael, was always heard with interest, and it had deepened in the minds of his children and grandchildren impressions of filial reverence and love. The old silver watch, thus handed down from generation to generation, was—and was likely long to be—a precious relic in the cottager's home.
When Michael had finished his story, his grandson observed, "I don't see why you should ha' thought about that watch when you was a-reading that chapter just now."
"Do you not see, lad, it's all plain enough to my mind!" exclaimed Martha. "Your grandfather was willing to suffer hunger and hardship, danger and chill, sickness and pain, rather than neglect the last wish of a dear mother who had taken her death from watching over him—"
"And yet," interrupted Michael Garth, finishing the sentence for his wife, "never till this night have I taken to heart the dying wish of One who has loved me better than ever did my mother, and has suffered more for me than ever a mother suffered! I've read His words, and scarce given them a thought—God have mercy upon me, a sinner—for my heart must have been more dead than a stone!"
"Ah! Michael," said old Martha, leaning forward on her chair, and laying her hand on the arm of her husband, "there was something which Master Harry missed out when he spoke to us to-day so anxious and earnest about attending the Holy Communion. He said that the Lord's Supper be a service of obedience, and a service of hope, and he was right enough there; but it's more than that, it's a service of love besides. How the holy angels must wonder that those for whom the loving Lord poured out His very life's blood, can go on year after year as—shame to us we have done, neglecting His dying command—as if He had never spoken, or they had never heard the words—'This do in remembrance of Me!'"
[CHAPTER VI.]
One Family.
BRIGHT and cloudless rose the sun on the following morning. The air was balmy as in May, and the budding leaves on the boughs, the early wild-flowers under the hedges, all seemed to rejoice.
Harry Maude was up as early as the sun life was too full of happiness for him, for the young officer to care to waste the fresh morning hours in sleep. He gave his early moments to God, and found that:
"His morning smiles bless all the day."