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twg_000012585000 | pocket. "No, I won't," said Ned, "I've got one." The missionary looked surprised, and hesitated. "Don't you believe me?" asked Ned, angrily. "At first I did not," was the reply, "but now that I stand before your face and look in your eyes I _do_ believe you." Ned gave a cynical laugh. "You're easy to gull," he said; "w... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585001 | it serves my purpose I can lie like a trooper." "I know that," returned the visitor, quietly, "but it serves your purpose to-night to speak the truth. I can see that. May I pray that God should guide you?" "Yes, you may, but not here. I'll have no hypocritical goin' down on my knees till I see my way to | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585002 | it. If I don't see my way to it, I'll let you know when you come back this day three weeks." "Well, I'll pray for you in my own room, Ned Frog." "You may do what you like in your own room. Good-night." He lifted the trap-door as he spoke, and pointed downward. The missionary at once descended after a | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585003 | brief "good-night," and a pleasant nod. Ned just gave him time to get his head out of the way when he let the trap fall with a clap like thunder, and then began to pace up and down his little room with his hands in his pockets and his chin on his breast. After a short time he went to | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585004 | a corner of the room where stood a small wooden box that contained the few articles of clothing which he possessed. From the bottom of this he fished up the New Testament that had been given to him long ago by Reggie North. Drawing his chair to the table and the candle to his elbow, the returned convict opened the | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585005 | Book, and there in his garret began for the first time to read in earnest the wonderful Word of Life! CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. THE GREAT CHANGE. Punctual to the day and the hour, the missionary returned to Ned's garret. Much and earnestly had he prayed, in the meantime, that the man might be guided in his search after tru... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585006 | that to himself might be given words of wisdom which might have weight with him. But the missionary's words were not now required. God had spoken to the rough man by his own Word. The Holy Spirit had carried conviction home. He had also revealed the Saviour, and the man was converted before the missionary again saw him... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585007 | present no fancy portrait to you. Our fiction had its counterpart in actual life. Ned Frog, in essential points at least, represents a real man--though we have, doubtless, saddled on his broad shoulders a few unimportant matters, which perhaps did not belong to him. "I believe that this is God's Word, my friend," he sa... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585008 | the missionary entered, "and in proof of that I will now ask you to kneel with me and pray." You may be sure that the man of God complied gladly and with a full heart. We may not, however, trace here the after-course of this man in detail. For our purpose it will suffice to say that this was no | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585009 | mere flash in the pan. Ned Frog's character did not change. It only received a new direction and a new impulse. The vigorous energy and fearless determination with which he had in former days pursued sin and self-gratification had now been turned into channels of righteousness. Very soon after finding Jesus for himself... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585010 | of others, and, in a quiet humble way, began with the poor people in his own stair. But this could not satisfy him. He was too strong both in body and mind to be restrained, and soon took to open-air preaching. "I'm going to begin a mission," he said, one day, to the missionary who had brought him to the | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585011 | Saviour. "There are many stout able fellows here who used to accept me as a leader in wickedness, and who will, perhaps, agree to follow me in a new walk. Some of them have come to the Lord already. I'm goin', sir, to get these to form a band of workers, and we'll take up a district." "Good," said the | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585012 | missionary, "there's nothing like united action. What part of the district will you take up yourself, Ned?" "The place where I stand, sir," he replied. "Where I have sinned there will I preach to men the Saviour of sinners." And he did preach, not with eloquence, perhaps, but with such fervour that many of his old comr... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585013 | and some were brought to Christ and joined his "Daniel Band." Moreover, Ned kept to his own district and class. He did not assume that all rich church-goers are hypocrites, and that it was his duty to stand in conspicuous places and howl to them the message of salvation, in tones of rasping discord. No, it was noted by... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585014 | mates, as particularly curious, that the voice of the man who could, when he chose, roar like a bull of Bashan, had become soft and what we may style entreative in its tone. Moreover, he did not try to imitate clerical errors. He did not get upon a deadly monotone while preaching, as so many do. He simply _spoke_ when | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585015 | he preached-- spoke loud, no doubt, but in a tone precisely similar to that in which, in former days, he would have seriously advised a brother burglar to adopt a certain course, or to carefully steer clear of another course, in order to gain his ends or to avoid falling into the hands of the police. Thus men, when lis... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585016 | to him, came to believe that he was really speaking to them in earnest, and not "preaching!" Oh! that young men who aim at the high privilege of proclaiming the "good news" would reflect on this latter point, and try to steer clear of that fatal rock on which the Church--not the Episcopal, Presbyterian, or any other Ch... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585017 | whole Church militant--has been bumping so long to her own tremendous damage! One point which told powerfully with those whom Ned sought to win was, that he went about endeavouring, as far as in him lay, to undo the evil that he had done. Some of it could never be undone--he felt that bitterly. Some could be remedied--... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585018 | that and went about it with vigour. For instance, he owed several debts. Being a handy fellow and strong, he worked like a horse, and soon paid off his debts to the last farthing. Again, many a time had he, in days gone by, insulted and defamed comrades and friends. These he sought out with care and begged their pardon... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585019 | The bulldog courage in him was so strong that in former days he would have struck or insulted any man who provoked him, without reference to his, it might be, superior size or strength. He now went as boldly forward to confess his sin and to apologise. Sometimes his apologies were kindly received, at other times he was... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585020 | and called a hypocrite in language that we may not repeat, but he took it well; he resented nothing now, and used to say he had been made invulnerable since he had enlisted under the banner of the Prince of Peace. Yet, strange to say, the man's pugilistic powers were not rendered useless by his pacific life and profess... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585021 | day he was passing down one of those streets where even the police prefer to go in couples. Suddenly a door burst open and a poor drunken woman was kicked out into the street by a big ruffian with whom Ned was not acquainted. Not satisfied with what he had done, the rough proceeded to kick the woman, who began | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585022 | to scream "murder!" A crowd at once collected, for, although such incidents were common enough in such places, they always possessed sufficient interest to draw a crowd; but no one interfered, first, because no one cared, and, second, because the man was so big and powerful that every one was afraid of him. Of course N... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585023 | indignant statement that the man ought to be ashamed of himself, but, with the quiet remark-- "She's only a woman, you know, an' can't return it." "An' wot 'ave _you_ got to do with it?" cried the man with a savage curse, as he aimed a tremendous blow at Ned with his right-hand. Our pugilist expected that. He did not | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585024 | start or raise his hands to defend himself, he merely put his head to one side, and the huge fist went harmlessly past his ear. Savagely the rough struck out with the other fist, but Ned quietly, yet quickly put his head to the other side, and again the fist went innocently by. A loud laugh and cheer from the | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585025 | crowd greeted this, for, apart altogether from the occasion of the disagreement, this turning of the head aside was very pretty play on the part of Ned--being a remarkably easy-looking but exceedingly difficult action, as all boxers know. It enabled Ned to smile in the face of his foe without doing him any harm. But it... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585026 | such an extent, that he struck out fast as well as hard, obliging Ned to put himself in the old familiar attitude, and skip about smartly. "I don't want to hurt you, friend," said Ned at last, "but I _can_, you see!" and he gave the man a slight pat on his right cheek with one hand and a tap | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585027 | on the forehead with the other. This might have convinced the rough, but he would not be convinced. Ned therefore gave him suddenly an open-handed slap on the side of the head which sent him through his own doorway; through his own kitchen--if we may so name it--and into his own coal-cellar, where he measured his lengt... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585028 | domestic _debris_. "I didn't want to do it, friends," said Ned in a mild voice, as soon as the laughter had subsided, "but, you see, in the Bible--a 'm uncommon fond of--we're told, as far as we can, to live peaceably with all men. Now, you see, I couldn't live peaceably wi' this man to-day. He wouldn't let me, but | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585029 | I think I'll manage to do it some day, for I'll come back here to-morrow, and say I'm sorry I had to do it. Meanwhile I have a word to say to you about this matter." Here Ned got upon the door-step of his adversary, and finished off by what is sometimes styled "improving the occasion." Of course, one of | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585030 | the first things that Ned Frog did, on coming to his "right mind," was to make earnest and frequent inquiries as to the fate of his wife and family. Unfortunately the man who might have guided him to the right sources of information--the City missionary who had brought him to a knowledge of the truth--was seized with a... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585031 | which not only confined him to a sick-bed for many weeks, but afterwards rendered it necessary that he should absent himself for a long time from the sphere of his labours. Thus, being left to himself, Ned's search was misdirected, and at last he came to the heart-breaking conclusion that they must have gone, as he exp... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585032 | bad;" that perhaps his wife had carried out her oft-repeated threat, and drowned herself, and that Bobby, having been only too successful a pupil in the ways of wickedness, had got himself transported. To prosecute his inquiries among his old foes, the police, was so repugnant to Ned that he shrank from it, after the f... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585033 | attempts, and the only other source which might have been successful he failed to appeal to through his own ignorance. He only knew of George Yard and the Home of Industry by name, as being places which he had hated, because his daughter Hetty was so taken up with them. Of course he was now aware that the people of | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585034 | George Yard did good work for his new Master, but he was so ignorant of the special phase of their work at the beginning of his Christian career that he never thought of applying to them for information. Afterwards he became so busy with his own special work, that he forgot all about these institutions. When the missio... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585035 | returned to his work, he at once--on hearing for the first time from Ned his family history--put him on the scent, and the discovery was then made that they had gone to Canada. He wrote immediately, and soon received a joyful reply from Hetty and a postscript from Bobby, which set his heart singing and his soul ablaze ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585036 | to a sparing and preserving God. About that time, however, the robust frame gave way under the amount of labour it was called on to perform. Ned was obliged to go into hospital. When there he received pressing invitations to go out to Canada, and offers of passage-money to any extent. Mrs Frog also offered to return ho... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585037 | and nurse him, and only waited to know whether he would allow her. Ned declined, on the ground that he meant to accept their invitation and go to Canada as soon as he was able to undertake the voyage. A relapse, however, interfered with his plans, and thus the visit, like many other desirable events in human affairs, w... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585038 | a time, delayed. CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. HOME AGAIN. Time passed away, and Bobby Frog said to his mother one morning, "Mother, I'm going to England." It was a fine summer morning when he said this. His mother was sitting in a bower which had been constructed specially for her use by her son and his friend Tim Lumpy. It st... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585039 | at the foot of the garden, from which could be had a magnificent view of the neighbouring lake. Rich foliage permitted the slanting sunbeams to quiver through the bower, and little birds, of a pert conceited nature, twittered among the same. Martha Mild--the very embodiment of meek, earnest simplicity, and still a mere... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585040 | in years--sat on a wooden stool at Mrs Frog's feet reading the Bible to her. Martha loved the Bible and Mrs Frog; they were both fond of the bower; there was a spare half-hour before them;--hence the situation, as broken in upon by Bobby. "To England, Bobby?" "To England, mother." Martha said nothing, but she gave a sl... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585041 | start, and glanced at the sturdy youth with a mingled expression of anxiety and surprise. The surprise Bob had expected; the anxiety he had hoped for; the start he had not foreseen, but now perceived and received as a glorious fact! Oh! Bobby Frog was a deep young rascal! His wild, hilarious, reckless spirit, which he ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585042 | to curb, even with all surroundings in his favour, experienced a great joy and sensation of restfulness in gazing at the pretty, soft, meek face of the little waif. He loved Martha, but, with all his recklessness, he had not the courage to tell her so, or to ask the condition of her feelings with regard to himself. Bei... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585043 | however, and with much of the knowing nature of the "stray" still about him, he hit on this plan of killing two birds with one stone, as it were, by briefly announcing his intentions to his mother; and the result was more than he had hoped for. "Yes, mother, to England--to London. You see, father's last letter was not ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585044 | all satisfactory. Although he said he was convalescent and hoped to be able to travel soon, it seemed rather dull in tone, and now several posts have passed without bringing us a letter of any kind from him. I am beginning to feel anxious, and so as I have saved a good bit of money I mean to have a | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585045 | trip to old England and bring Daddy out with me." "That will be grand indeed, my son. But will Mr Merryboy let ye go, Bobby?" "Of course he will. He lets me do whatever I please, for he's as fond o' me as if he were my father." "No; he ain't that," returned Mrs Frog, with a shake of the | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585046 | head; "your father was rough, Bobby, specially w'en in liquor, but he 'ad a kind 'art at bottom, and he was very fond o' you, Bobby--almost as fond as he once was o' me. Mr Merryboy could never come up to 'im in _that_." "Did I say he came up to him, mother? I didn't say he was as fond | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585047 | o' me as my own father, but _as if he was_ my father. However, it's all arranged, and I go off at once." "Not before breakfast, Bobby?" "No, not quite. I never do anything important on an empty stomach, but by this time to-morrow I hope to be far on my way to the sea-coast, and I expect Martha to | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585048 | take good care of you till I come back." "I'll be _sure_ to do that," said Martha, looking up in Mrs Frog's face affectionately. Bob Frog noted the look, and was satisfied. "But, my boy, I shan't be here when you come back. You know my visit is over in a week, and then we go to Sir Richard's estate." | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585049 | "I know that, mother, but Martha goes with you there, to help you and Hetty and Matty to keep house while Tim Lumpy looks after the farm." "Farm, my boy, what nonsense are you talking?" "No nonsense, mother, it has all been arranged this morning, early though it is. Mr Merryboy has received a letter from Sir Richard, s... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585050 | he wants to gather as many people as possible round him, and offering him one of his farms on good terms, so Mr Merryboy is to sell this place as soon as he can, and Tim and I have been offered a smaller farm on still easier terms close to his, and not far from the big farm that Sir | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585051 | Richard has given to his son-in-law Mr Welland--" "Son-in-law!" exclaimed Mrs Frog. "Do you mean to say that Mr Welland, who used to come down an' preach in the lodgin'-'ouses in Spitalfields 'as married that sweet hangel Miss Di?" "I do mean that, mother. I could easily show him a superior angel, of course," said Bob ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585052 | at Martha, "but he has done pretty well, on the whole." "Pretty well!" echoed Mrs Frog indignantly; "he couldn't 'ave done better if 'e'd searched the wide world over." "There I don't agree with you," returned her son; "however, it don't matter--Hallo! there goes granny down the wrong path!" Bob dashed off at full spee... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585053 | had an inveterate tendency, when attempting to reach Mrs Frog's bower, to take a wrong turn, and pursue a path which led from the garden to a pretty extensive piece of forest-land behind. The blithe old lady was posting along this track in a tremulo-tottering way when captured by Bob. At the same moment the breakfast-b... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585054 | voice was immediately heard in concert; silvery shouts from the forest-land alluded to told where Hetty and Matty had been wandering, and a rush of pattering feet announced that the dogs of the farm were bent on being first to bid the old gentleman good-morning. As Bob Frog had said, the following day found him far on ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585055 | the sea-coast. A few days later found him on the sea,--wishing, earnestly, that he were on the land! Little more than a week after that found him in London walking down the old familiar Strand towards the city. As he walked slowly along the crowded thoroughfare, where every brick seemed familiar and every human being s... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585056 | saying to himself mentally, "Can it be possible! was it here that I used to wander in rags? Thank God for the rescue and for the rescuers!" "Shine yer boots, sir?" said a facsimile of his former self. "Certainly, my boy," said Bob, at once submitting himself to the operator, although, his boots having already been well... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585057 | was an obvious absurdity. The boy must have felt something of this, for, when finished, he looked up at his employer with a comical expression. Bob looked at him sternly. "They were about as bright before you began on 'em," he said. "They was, sir," admitted the boy, candidly. "How much?" demanded the old street boy. "... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585058 | replied the young street boy, "but ven the day's fine, an' the boots don't want much shinin', we gin'rally expecs a penny. Gen'l'min _'ave_ bin known to go the length of tuppence." Bob pulled out half-a-crown and offered it. The boy grinned, but did not attempt to take it. "Why don't you take it, my boy?" "You _don't_ ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585059 | do you?" asked the boy, as the grin faded and the eyes opened. "Yes, I do. Here, catch. I was once like you. Christ and Canada have made me what you see. Here is a little book that will tell you more about that." He chanced to have one of Miss Macpherson's _Canadian Homes for London Wanderers_ in his pocket, | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585060 | and gave it to the little shoe-black,--who was one of the fluttering free-lances of the metropolis, not one of the "Brigade." Bob could not have said another word to have saved his life. He turned quickly on his heel and walked away, followed by a fixed gaze and a prolonged whistle of astonishment. "How hungry I used t... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585061 | he muttered as he walked along, "so uncommon hungry! The smell of roasts and pies had something to do with it, I think. Why, there's the shop--yes, the very shop, where I stood once gazing at the victuals for a full hour before I could tear myself away. I do think that, for the sake of starving boys, to say | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585062 | nothing of men, women, and girls, these grub-shops should be compelled to keep the victuals out o' the windows and send their enticing smells up their chimneys!" Presently he came to a dead stop in front of a shop where a large mirror presented him with a full-length portrait of himself, and again he said mentally, "Ca... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585063 | for, since quitting London he had never seen himself as others saw him, having been too hurried, on both occasions of passing through Canadian cities, to note the mirrors there. In the backwoods, of course, there was nothing large enough in the way of mirror to show more than his good-looking face. The portrait now pre... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585064 | of a broad-chested, well-made, gentlemanly young man of middle height, in a grey Tweed suit. "Not _exactly_ tip-top, A1, superfine, you know, Bobby," he muttered to himself with the memory of former days strong upon him, "but--but-- perhaps not altogether unworthy of--of--a thought or two from little Martha Mild." Bob ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585065 | an inch on that occasion, and thereafter he walked more rapidly in the direction of Whitechapel. With sad and strangely mingled memories he went to the court where his early years had been spent. It was much the same in disreputableness of aspect as when he left it. Time had been gnawing at it so long that a few years | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585066 | more or less made little difference on it, and its inhabitants had not improved much. Passing rapidly on he went straight to the Beehive, which he had for long regarded as his real home, and there, once again, received a hearty welcome from its ever busy superintendent and her earnest workers; but how different his cir... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585067 | his first reception! His chief object, however, was to inquire the way to the hospital in which his father lay, and he was glad to learn that the case of Ned Frog was well-known, and that he was convalescent. It chanced that a tea-meeting was "on" when he arrived, so he had little more at the time than a warm | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585068 | shake of the hand from his friends in the Home, but he had the ineffable satisfaction of leaving behind him a sum sufficient to give a sixpence to each of the miserable beings who were that night receiving a plentiful meal for their bodies as well as food for their souls--those of them, at least, who chose to take the | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585069 | latter. None refused the former. On his way to the hospital he saw a remarkably tall policeman approaching. "Well, you _are_ a long-legged copper," he muttered to himself, with an irrepressible laugh as he thought of old times. The old spirit seemed to revive with the old associations, for he felt a strong temptation t... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585070 | policeman, execute the old double-shuffle, stick his thumb to the end of his nose, and bolt! As the man drew nearer he did actually make a face in spite of himself--a face of surprise--which caused the man to stop. "Excuse me," said Bob, with much of his old bluntness, "are not you Number ?" "That is not my number now, | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585071 | sir, though I confess it was once," answered the policeman, with a humorous twinkle of the eye. Bobby noticed the word "sir," and felt elated. It was almost more than waif-and-stray human nature could stand to be respectfully "sirred" by a London policeman--his old foe, whom, in days gone by and on occasions innumerabl... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585072 | with all the ingenuity of his fertile brain. "Your name is Giles Scott, is it not?" he asked. "It is, sir." "Do you remember a little ragged boy who once had his leg broken by a runaway pony at the West-end--long ago?" "Yes, as well as if I'd seen him yesterday. His name was Bobby Frog, and a sad scamp | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585073 | he was, though it is said he's doing well in Canada." "He must 'ave changed considerable," returned Bob, reverting to his old language with wonderful facility, "w'en Number don't know 'im. Yes, in me, Robert Frog, Esquire, of Chikopow Farm, Canada Vest, you be'old your ancient henemy, who is on'y too 'appy to 'ave the ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585074 | for all the trouble he gave you, an' all the 'ard names he called you in days gone by." Bobby held out his hand as he spoke, and you may be sure our huge policeman was not slow to grasp it, and congratulate the stray on his improved circumstances. We have not time or space to devote to the conversation | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585075 | which ensued. It was brief, but rapid and to the point, and in the course of it Bob learned that Molly was as well, and as bright and cheery as ever--also somewhat stouter; that Monty was in a fair way to become a real policeman, having just received encouragement to expect admission to the force when old enough, and t... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585076 | he was in a fair way to become as sedate, wise, zealous, and big as his father; also, that little Jo aimed at the same honourable and responsible position, and was no longer little. Being anxious, however, to see his father, Bob cut the conversation short, and, having promised to visit his old enemy, hastened away. The... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585077 | hospital in which Bob soon found himself was a sad place. Clean and fresh, no doubt, but very still, save when a weary sigh or a groan told of suffering. Among the beds, which stood in a row, each with its head against the wall, one was pointed out on which a living skeleton lay. The face was very very | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585078 | pale, and it seemed as if the angel of death were already brooding over it. Yet, though so changed, there was no mistaking the aspect and the once powerful frame of Ned Frog. "I'd rather not see any one," whispered Ned, as the nurse went forward and spoke to him in a low voice, "I'll soon be home--I think." "Father, | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585079 | _dear_ father," said Bob, in a trembling, almost choking voice, as he knelt by the bedside and took one of his father's hands. The prostrate man sprang up as if he had received an electric shock, and gazed eagerly into the face of his son. Then, turning his gaze on the nurse, he said-- "I'm not dreaming, am I? It's | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585080 | true, is it? Is this Bobby?" "Whether he's Bobby or not I can't say," replied the nurse, in the tone with which people sometimes address children, "but you're not dreaming-- it _is_ a gentleman." "Ah! then I _am_ dreaming," replied the sick man, with inexpressible sadness, "for Bobby is no gentleman." "But it _is_ me, ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585081 | almost sobbing aloud as he kissed the hand he held, "why, you old curmudgeon, I thought you'd 'ave know'd the voice o' yer own son! I've grow'd a bit, no doubt, but it's me for all that. Look at me!" Ned did look, with all the intensity of which he was capable, and then fell back on his pillow with | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585082 | a great sigh, while a death-like pallor overspread his face, almost inducing the belief that he was really dead. "No, Bobby, I ain't dead yet," he said in a low whisper, as his terrified son bent over him. "Thank God for sendin' you back to me." He stopped, but, gradually, strength returned, and he again looked earnest... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585083 | "Bobby," he said, in stronger tones, "I thought the end was drawin' near--or, rather, the beginnin'--the beginnin' o' the New Life. But I don't feel like that now. I feel, some'ow, as I used to feel in the ring when they sponged my face arter a leveller. I did think I was done for this mornin'. The nurse thought so | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585084 | too, for I 'eerd her say so; an' the doctor said as much. Indeed I'm not sure that my own 'art didn't say so--but I'll cheat 'em all yet, Bobby, my boy. You've put new life into my old carcase, an' I'll come up to the scratch yet--see if I don't." But Ned Frog did not "come up to the | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585085 | scratch." His work for the Master on earth was finished--the battle fought out and the victory gained. "Gi' them all my love in Canada, Bobby, an' say to your dear mother that I _know_ she forgives me--but I'll tell her all about that when we meet--in the better land." Thus he died with his rugged head resting on the b... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585086 | of his loved and loving son. CHAPTER THIRTY. THE NEW HOME. Once again, and for the last time, we shift our scene to Canada--to the real backwoods now--the Brandon Settlement. Sir Richard, you see, had been a noted sportsman in his youth. He had chased the kangaroo in Australia, the springbok in Africa, and the tiger in... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585087 | fished salmon in Norway, so that his objections to the civilised parts of Canada were as strong as those of the Red Indians themselves. He therefore resolved, when making arrangements to found a colony, to push as far into the backwoods as was compatible with comfort and safety. Hence we now find him in the _very_ far ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585088 | to indicate the exact spot, because idlers, on hearing of its fertility and beauty and the felicity of its inhabitants, might be tempted to crowd to it in rather inconvenient numbers. Let it suffice to say, in the language of the aborigines, that it lies towards the setting sun. Around Brandon Settlement there are roll... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585089 | grand forests, and numerous rivers and rivulets, with flat-lands, low-lands, high-lands, undulating lands, wood-lands, and, in the far-away distance, glimpses of the back-bone of America--peaked, and blue, and snow-topped. The population of this happy region consists largely of waifs with a considerable sprinkling of s... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585090 | The occupation of the people is, as might be expected, agricultural; but, as the colony is very active and thriving and growing fast, many other branches of industry have sprung up, so that the hiss of the saw and the ring of the anvil, the clatter of the water-mill, and the clack of the loom, may be heard in all | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585091 | parts of it. There is a rumour that a branch of the Great Pacific Railway is to be run within a mile of the Brandon Settlement; but that is not yet certain. The rumour, however, has caused much joyful hope to some, and rather sorrowful anxiety to others. Mercantile men rejoice at the prospect. Those who are fond of spo... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585092 | tremble, for it is generally supposed, though on insufficient grounds, that the railway-whistle frightens away game. Any one who has travelled in the Scottish Highlands and seen grouse close to the line regarding your clanking train with supreme indifference, must doubt the evil influence of railways on game. Meanwhile... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585093 | deer, and hunt the brown and the grizzly bear, and ply rod, net, gun, and rifle, to their hearts' content. There is even a bank in this thriving settlement--a branch, if we mistake not, of the flourishing Bank of Montreal--of which a certain Mr Welland is manager, and a certain Thomas Balls is hall-porter, as well as g... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585094 | not asleep in the hall-chair. Mrs Welland, known familiarly as Di, is regarded as the mother of the settlement--or, more correctly, the guardian angel--for she is not yet much past the prime of life. She is looked upon as a sort of goddess by many people; indeed she resembles one in mind, face, figure, and capacity. We... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585095 | word advisedly, for she knows and sympathises with every one, and does so much for the good of the community, that the bare record of her deeds would fill a large volume. Amongst other things she trains, in the way that they should go, a family of ten children, whose adoration of her is said to be perilously near to | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585096 | idolatry. She also finds time to visit an immense circle of friends. There are no poor in Brandon Settlement yet, though there are a few sick and a good many aged, to whom she ministers. She also attends on Sir Richard, who is part of the Bank family, as well as a director. The good knight wears well. His time | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585097 | is divided between the children of Di, the affairs of the settlement, and a neighbouring stream in which the trout are large and pleasantly active. Mrs Screwbury, who spent her mature years in nursing little Di, is renewing her youth by nursing little Di's little ones, among whom there is, of course, another little Di ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585098 | Jessie Summers assists in the nursery, and the old cook reigns in the Canadian kitchen with as much grace as she formerly reigned in the kitchen at the "West-End." Quite close to the Bank buildings there is a charming villa, with a view of a lake in front and a peep through the woods at the mountains behind, in which | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012585099 | dwells the cashier of the Bank with his wife and family. His name is Robert Frog, Esquire. His wife's name is Martha. His eldest son, Bobby--a boy of about nine or ten--is said to be the most larky boy in the settlement. We know not as to that, but any one with half an eye can see that he is | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
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