C. At any rate, dear grandfather, I will do what mother entreated, and not leave you alone.
XII.
Two years later. St. Thomas’s Day.
C. Grandpapa, may I come with you on Christmas morning?
Mr. A. You make me a truly happy Christmas, dear child.
C. I think I feel somewhat as St. Thomas did, in to-day’s Gospel. It went home to my heart
Mr. A. Ah, child, to us that ‘Blessed are they who have not seen and yet have believed,’ must mean those who are ready to know by faith instead of material tangible proof.
CHOPS
You ask me why I call that old great-grandmother black cat Chops? Well, thereby hangs a tale. I don’t mean the black tail which is standing upright and quivering at your caresses, but a story that there will be time to tell you before Charlie gets home from market.
Seven years ago, Charlie had just finished his training both at an agricultural college and under a farmer, and was thinking of going out to Texas or to Canada, and sending for me when he should have been able to make a new home for me, when his godfather, Mr. Newton, offered to let him come down and look after the draining and otherwise reclaiming of this great piece of waste land. It had come to Mr. Newton through some mortgages, I believe, and he thought something might be made of it by an active agent. It was the first time Mr. Newton had shown the least interest in us, though he was a cousin of our poor mother’s; and Charlie was very much gratified, more especially as when he had £150 a year and a house, he thought I might leave the school where I was working as a teacher, and make a home with him.