She fell asleep in her visionary journey when she was up beyond Central Park. She was always so tired, and this night quite exhausted. But Bess kept floating on a sea of delicious sound; and if ever one had visions of the promised land, it was Bessy Quinn.
There were seven babies in the next morning, it being a sharp, clear day. Mrs. Quinn had gone off about her business with no row. When Bess had been dressed and had her breakfast, they drew out the precious book.
“I’ll jes’ cover it with a bit of old calico an’ no one will mistrust, for you can jes’ slip it down in the carriage. An’ we’ll get out that old speller of Owny’s, so mother can see that around if we do be taken by s’prise.”
They looked at the pictures as the babies would allow them the leisure, and spelled out the explanation underneath. It was so wonderful, though at times they were appalled by the difficulties and dangers. And it was almost night when they reached the crowning-point of all,—Christiana going across the river.
“All the banks beyond the river were full of horses and chariots which were come down from above to accompany her to the City Gate.” Her friends were thronging round. She was entering the river with a fearless step and uplifted face.
“Why, Dil, she jes’ walked right acrost.” Bess gave a joyous little laugh. “You see, she couldn’t get drownded, because that Lord Jesus had made it all right an’ safe, jes’ as he carried people in his arms. I’m so glad we know. You see, when we get to the river, an’ it will be way, way above Cent’l Park, when we’ve been through these giants an’ all—an’ I’m ’most afraid of thim; but the man did not let ’em hurt her, an’ he, our man, won’t let ’em hurt us. An’ we’ll jest step right in the river,—maybe he’ll carry me acrost on account of my poor little legs,—an’ we sha’n’t be a mite afraid, for he won’t let us drown. O Dil, it’ll be so lovely! An’ here’s the pallis!”
There was the “throng that no man can number,” welcoming Christiana. Angels with spreading wings and rapturous faces. Her husband coming to meet her, and the Lord Jesus ministering an abundant welcome.
What a day it was! Never was day so short, so utterly delightful. Some of the babies were cross: out of seven little poorly born and poorly nourished babies, there were wants and woes; but Dil hugged them, cuddled them, crooned to them, with a radiant bliss she had never known before. She could look so surely at the end.
An old debt of half a dollar came in, and there were thirty-five cents for the babies. Dan had on his new suit too, and altogether Mrs. Quinn was remarkably good-natured. Dil felt almost conscience-smitten about the book—but then the story would have to come out, and alas!
After that they began to read the wonderful story. Dil was not much of a scholar. Her school-days had been few and far between, never continuous enough to give her any real interest. Indeed, she had not been bright at her books, and her mother had not cared. School was something to fill up the time until children were old enough to go to work. But Dil surely had enough to fill up her time.