“Yes, Missy. I ’spect He did, dat’s a fac’,” answered Joe, not taking in at once that she meant to give him the book; “an’ dose words done Joe a heap of good. Yes: He send you here for read ’em to Joe.”
“But you don’t understand,” said Bessie. “I mean He sent me here to give you the Testament. I think He meant you to have it, you asked it in His name. It isn’t all the Bible: but it has all about Jesus, and a good deal besides, and the Psalms too; and you will love it very much, won’t you?”
“Missy don’t mean she gwine fur gib Joe her own book?”
“Oh yes, I do,” answered Bessie. “I have another Bible at home, and papa would give me as many as I want, and I can read my sister’s till we go home. I am going to give it to you for your own, Joe.”
The old man sat for a moment speechless with wonder and gratitude, then covered his face with his hands.
“I t’ank de Lord fust, and you next, Missy,” he said, when he removed them. “I t’ank Him, and bress His name, fur sen’ his little white dove to bring His word to ole black Joe. Yes, yes; for sure His promise stan’ in all place an’ all time. Missy fin’ it, an’ Joe fin’ it: de ole an’ de young, de black an’ de white, de rich an’ de poor,—all who lub and trust Him. He hear all, an’ do for all.”
He took the baby hand, and kissed it with a tender reverence that was very touching to see, but which the child in her innocence scarcely understood.
“Shall I read some more?” she asked.
Joe thankfully assented; and she finished the chapter, and read also the fifteenth then, closing the book, placed it in the old black man’s hand.