"You said I might tell about Jesus being born in a stable to-day," began one little boy, raising his hand.
"You may tell it now," Neddy said, in a cheerful voice.
Questions and answers followed, showing that many present had been told of the love of Jesus Christ, even for the most sinful; and then the little missionary, wholly unconscious that others beside the inmates of the neighboring tenement houses were present, with a little wave of the hand to command silence, began,—
"I'm going to tell you the story our teacher told us at the mission school to-day, and then we will sing our favorite hymn.
"A great many years ago there was a rich man. He had two sons. One was good and one was bad. I guess it was the youngest that was bad. He didn't like to work. The other helped his father on the big farm. Teacher said he thought the good one went around and told the servants what to do, and was not afraid to work himself. They had cows and calves and sheep, and all kinds of animals, I guess.
"By and by the lazy one said he was tired of staying at home. He wanted to travel, and he asked his father to give him his part of the money and let him go. His father said yes. So the father and the good son went on together for a great many years. They were pretty happy, but not very. Can you guess why?"
"Maybe the father was a sorrering for the boy who had quit his home," murmured a mother in the farthest corner of the room.
"That's a good guess. Yes, that was the reason he wasn't happy. He loved his boy and he didn't like to have him away."
"Why didn't he get a letter writ?" questioned a man who was holding a child on each knee.
"I don't know," answered Neddy. "I'm sorry I didn't ask teacher that. P'r'aps he didn't know where to send the letter. But now I'm going to tell you about the bad son. He had a whole bagful of money, and he thought it would last him forever. So he kept buying things and spending his money till one day he put his hand in his bag and it was all gone, every bit. He was hungry, but he had not a penny to buy food. He didn't dare to kneel down, as we do, and say, 'Our Father, give us this day our daily bread,' because he had been awfully wicked, getting drunk and lying and swearing, and doing everything bad. You can't guess, any of you, what he did at last. Why, he was that hungry he had to hire out to a farmer who kept pigs, and he watched his chance when nobody was looking, to steal some of the pigs' food. Before this he used to wear gay clothes, now he was all in rags. One day he sat down on a stump of a tree. He was awful homesick. He was tired of being so bad. He thought about his old home, and how kind his father used to be, and what good things he had to eat, He remembered how the men working on the farm had enough to eat. All at once he began to cry, 'I wish I was home. I'm awfully lonely way off here, and nobody speaks a kind word to me. Nobody gives me even the pigs' food. I'm ragged, too, and filthy. Oh, what a fool I was to leave my dear old home!'"