CHAPTER VII.
CHARLIE'S LAST DAYS.
"They who seek the throne of grace
Find that throne in every place;
If we live a life of prayer,
God is present everywhere."
That much dreaded disease, scarlet fever, was the unwelcome visitor to many homes. Bessie was taken by it. While she was ill, Charlie was kept from school, lest other children should take it of him. Often he would steal over to the school house during school hours, and peep in at the window, unobserved, to learn who stood first in his classes. He often watched the spelling class as they stood up in recitation, could tell each pupils' standing, but he himself dared not enter. Those were long, long weeks for Charlie, that Bessie's illness continued. She grew very, very sick. Sometimes it seemed her little life was suspended on a silken thread,—a touch might cause it to snap, and she would be gone forever.
Children converted are children still. Charlie was a boy, although a Christian. Often he came softly into the house, and when he would meet his mamma out of the sick room, he would say, "Don't you wish you had left Bessie be baptized when she wanted to? Suppose she should die." And his poor mother, almost broken down with care for her little girl, was made sick at heart by questions like that.
On the doctor's daily visit Charlie met him at the gate, and would tie his horse for him, and then come with him into the house.
Bessie had lain ill already four weeks. On Tuesday morning the doctor tied his horse himself and came in alone. Charlie was sick. The doctor said to him, "Well, Charlie, you've got it now. Does it scare you?"
"No sir, it don't scare me," he said, "but I hope I won't have to be sick as long as Bessie."