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."