“Nor ever will be, I fear,” said the woman.
“What! do you apprehend any danger in the case?”
“Sir, she is very poorly indeed, and I think is in a decline. She wants to see you, sir; but is afraid you would not come to see such a poor young child as she is.”
“Not go where poverty and sickness may call me? How can she imagine so? At which house does she live?”
“Sir, it is a poor place, and she is ashamed to ask you to come there. Her near neighbours are noisy wicked people, and her own father and mother are strange folks. They all make game at poor Jenny because she reads her Bible so much.”
“Do not tell me about poor places and wicked people: that is the very situation where a minister of the gospel is called to do the most good. I shall go to see her; you may let her know my intention.”
“I will, sir; I go in most days to speak to her, and it does one’s heart good to hear her talk.”
“Indeed!” said I, “what does she talk about?”
“Talk about, poor thing! why, nothing but good things, such as the Bible, and Jesus Christ, and life, and death, and her soul, and heaven, and hell, and your discourses, and the books you used to teach her, sir. Her father says he’ll have no such godly things in his house; and her own mother scoffs at her, and says she supposes Jenny counts herself better than other folks. But she does not mind all that. She will read her books, and then talk so pretty to her mother, and beg that she would think about her soul.”
“The Lord forgive me,” thought I, “for not being more attentive to this poor child’s case!” I seemed to feel the