But the captain did not get well. He seemed to grow worse and worse each day, and he told Bob that he did not think he should live long.
“O then,” said Bob, “you’ll see my mother, won’t you? and will you tell her that her Bob is trying to be a good boy and meet her in heaven?”
“Ah, Bob,” was the reply, while the tears rolled down the poor man’s face, “if I am ever so happy as to get to heaven I shall try to see your mother, to thank her for myself for the good that you have done me through her teaching. Pray for me, Bob, that I may get there.”
Bob’s little Bible now was the great comfort of the captain, and he read it for himself when he was able. One night he asked Bob to leave it with him that he might read it when he was awake in the night, and Bob did so. Early the next day he went as he always did and tapped at the door. There was no reply, and he tapped again. Still no reply, and then he walked in. There was the captain on his knees, with the Bible lying open on a chair before him. Bob spoke, but there was no reply. He came close up, but the captain did not stir. He put his hands on him, and then he knew that the captain was dead. He died on his knees praying over the Bible. We trust that through what he learned of Bob he sought and found the Saviour and went to heaven.
Happy Bob! How well he was paid for doing good! Go, little reader, and do good also. Do good at all times to all you meet, and the Lord will bless you.
THE END.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.