And well you may be, Dick; only remember the results are not always thus speedy and pleasant; but all the same, never be ashamed of your Master.
XII.
MAYBEE’S “PREACH” AND PRACTICE.
“I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.”
A bit of black crape hung from the door of the little red house in the woods.
Aunty McFane had gone home.
Kind friends placed the poor wasted body in the plain coffin, covered it with fragrant flowers, and laid it away under the new-fallen snow.
“Fought the fight, the victory won!” sang Maybee that night, sitting in her little rocker before the open fire.
“I shouldn’t think you’d sing wight after you’ve been to a fooneral,” said Tod, curled up on the hearth-rug.
“Why, they sung it to-day, right beside the coffin,” said Maybee, “and mamma ’xplained it to me coming home, how Aunty McFane has been fighting most seventy-seven years, and trusted Jesus all the whole time, and how she has got through, and gone to stay with Him always.”