"Come, old boss, we ain't a-blamin' yer; so don't begin a ballyraggin' yoursel' in that way," said one of the men.
"Facts is stubborn, though," went on Joe, "an' I see that I've kep' mysel' too much to mysel', an' I ain't a-been that neighbourly as I ought to ha' been; but I intend to do differ'nt."
"Well, I'm hanged," said the man who had before spoken, "if I ain't considerable at a loss, Joe, to know what yer drivin' at."
"I 'spects so, no doubt, but I'm not good at 'splainin'; but it 'pears to me, mates, as how we ain't got hold o' life by the right end."
"Yer mean us, Joe?" questioned several voices together.
"Well, p'raps I do. Yer don't git much comfort in this life, and yer ain't preparin' for a better life. Don't stop me; but I used to think that heaven wern't for me, and for lots o' us poor chaps—that we didn't belong to the elect; but, bless yer, lads, I know now, that the elect are everybody as likes. We are all God's children, an' He loves us all, the bad 'uns as well as the good 'uns, an' He's promised pardon an' heaven to whosoever will. Let me tell 'e lads, how it came about. A little girl an' her brother comed an' axed me to let 'em warm theirselves by my fire one pinchin' cold night. A purtier little critter than little Nelly never breathed, wi' her great round eyes an' sweet mouth. I seem to see her now, though she's asleep in her grave. Well, when her father druv 'em from home, I got a place for 'em wi' Betty Barker. An' Betty used to read to 'em out o' the Testament. An' then they got into a chapel, an' heerd a couple o' sermons—leastaway Nelly did; the lad were asleep durin' the preachin'. Well, you can't tell how eager that little gal became to know more about the Saviour, an' heaven, an' all the rest o' it. An' she used to come an' ax me all sorts o' questions. Bless yer, that little girl had real speretuel insight; she used to floor me complete. I never heerd sich posers as she used to put sometimes. But I tell 'e, mates, every one of the questions helped to lead me out o' the darkness into the light. Day after day it got clearer, an' yet I doubted. I spoke the promises to the little gal, and yet I were afeard to take 'em mysel'. I had a vision, too, one night, an' that helped me amazin'. But not until my little Nell was dyin' did I see clear. The nurse said to me what she seed the little gal wanted to say, an' that took down the last shutter, an' the light streamed in. I can't tell yer all the joy, lads, I've felt, but for a long time I kept it all to mysel'. But the Lord has showed to me how selfish I've been, an' now I want for everybody to get close to the Saviour."
For a moment there was silence, then one of the men said,
"But there's wussur chaps 'n us goin'."
"Ay, that's true, lad," said Joe; "but you're all bad enough to be better, an' the Saviour wants 'e all to be good, an' He wants to help 'e all to be patient an' bear the burden of life, an' He wants to show 'e how much He loves an' cares for 'e all."
"I dunna think He ken love us very much," said one of the men sullenly, "or He wouldn't ha' put us in this 'ere muck all our lives."