"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.