"Come, come, children, you don't want to stay in the yard all the evening, do you?" asked their father. "Our travellers are hungry, I guess."
So saying, he pushed them before him into the large kitchen, which wore its brightest aspect in honour of the happy occasion. A snowy cloth was spread on the deal table, and the tea-things placed ready thereon, and, by way of ornament, a jug containing a bunch of dog-roses and other wild flowers of the month. An appetising odour pervaded the apartment, for the mother had been frying pancakes for the children, who she knew would relish them.
THE RETURN HOME.
"Oh, how good it is to be home again!" said Ellen, and Jerry echoed her words.
Merry was the children's talk, as they gathered around the table for their evening meal. They were ready to laugh at the least thing, and Johnny, by simply remarking that Jerry and baby had learned to walk at the same time, provoked a burst of merriment. But beneath this innocent mirth, there were serious thoughts, and when his mother suggested that it was time the little ones went to bed, Jerry, looking at his father, said, quietly but earnestly:
"Father, before we go to bed, won't you thank Jesus for having made me well?"
The request took his father by surprise; he coloured deeply, scratched his head, and looked appealingly at his wife.
She responded to his glance by lifting her Bible from the shelf on which it lay, and placing it on the table before him.
"My father always used to read a chapter and pray with his children before they went to bed," she said. "I wish we had followed his example at the beginning of our married life. But it's not too late to turn over a new leaf. The Lord's been very gracious to us, although we've forgotten Him. Let us thank Him for His goodness, as the dear lad says."