Her Benny: A Story of Street Life
Page 8
CHAPTER VIII.
In which Joe Wrag has a Vision.
They are going, only going, Jesus called them long ago All the wintry time they're passing Softly as the falling snow.
When the violets in the spring-time Catch the azure of the sky, They are carried out to slumber Sweetly where the violets lie.
As winter slowly wore away, little Nelly's health began to fail. Sheseemed weary and languid, and poor little Benny was at his wits' end toknow what to get her to eat. After spending more than he could reallyafford in something that he thought would tempt her appetite, he wasgrieved beyond measure when she would turn away her head and say,
"I's very sorry for yer, Benny, but I canna eat it; I would if I could."
And he would be compelled reluctantly to eat it himself, though he wouldnot mind going without food altogether if only "little Nell" could eat.But he comforted himself with the thought that she would get better whenthe spring-time came, and the streets were dry and warm. He might gether into the parks, too, and she would be sure, he thought, to get anappetite then. And so he kept up his spirits, and hoped for the best.
"She's ripenin' for the kingdom," was Joe Wrag's reflection, as hewatched her pale face becoming thinner, and her great round eyesbecoming larger and more luminous day by day. "She belongs to the elect,there ken be no doubt, an' the Lord don't intend for her little barefeet to walk the cold, dirty streets o' Liverpool much longer. I reckonshe'll soon be walking the golden streets o' the shinin' city, wherethere's no more cold, nor hunger, nor pain. I shall be main sorry tolose her, bless her little heart, for I'm feared there's no chance ofme ever seein' her agin' when she's gone. I wonder if the Lord wouldpermit me to look at her through the bars o' the gate just for a minitif I wur to ax Him very hard? 'T will be nice, anyhow, to think o' herbein' comforted while I'm tormented. But it comes 'ard 'pon such as usas don't belong to the elect, whichever way we looks at it."
Sometimes Joe would leave his home earlier in the afternoon than usual,and getting a nice bunch of grapes, he would make his way towardsNelly's stand as the short winter's day was fading in the west. He wouldrarely have much difficulty in finding his little pet, and taking her upin his great strong arms, he would carry her off through bye-streets tohis hut. And wrapping her in his great warm overcoat, and placing her ona low seat that he had contrived for her, he would leave her to enjoyher grapes, while he went out to light the fire and see that the lampswere properly set for the night.
With a dreamy look in her eyes, Nelly would watch her old friendkindling his fire and putting things "ship-shape," as he termed it, andwould think how well she had been cared for of late.
By-and-bye, when the fire crackled and glowed in the grate, Joe wouldcome into the hut and take her upon his knee, and she would lean herhead against his shoulder with a heart more full of thankfulness thanwords of hers could utter. And at such times, at her request, Joe wouldtell her of the mercy that was infinite, and of the love that wasstronger than death. She had only been twice to the chapel, for whenshe and Benny went the following week they discovered that there wasno service, and so disappointed were they that they had not gone again;for the chapel was a long distance from Tempest Court, and she was tiredwhen the day's work was done, and to go such a long distance and findthe doors closed was anything but inviting. So they had not venturedagain. But Nelly had heard enough from granny and while at the chapel tomake her thirst for more. And so Joe became her teacher, and evening byevening, whenever opportunity presented, he unfolded to her the "old,old story of Jesus and His love."
It made his heart ache, though, to talk of the "good tidings of greatjoy," and think they were not for him. If the truth must be told, thiswas the reason why he kept away from church and chapel. He had adoptedin early life the Calvinistic creed, and had come to the conclusion,when about thirty years of age, that he belonged to the "eternallyreprobate." Hence, to go to church to listen to promises that were notfor him, to hear offers of salvation that he could not accept, to betold of a heaven that he could never enter, and of a hell that he couldnot shun, was more than his sensitive nature could bear.
And yet, as he repeated to Nelly the wonderful promises of the Gospel,they seemed sometimes to widen out, until they embraced the whole world,including even him, and for a moment his heart would throb with joy andhope. Then again the bossy front of his creed would loom up before himlike an iron wall, hiding the light, shutting out the sunshine, andleaving him still in "outer darkness."
One day Nelly rather startled him by saying, in her sweet childish way,
"I does like that word who-so-ever!"
"Do you?" said Joe.
"Oh, yes, very much; don't you?"
"Well, I 'ardly knows what to make on it."
"How is that, Joe?" said Nelly, looking up with a wondering expressionon her face.
"Well, 'cause it seems to mean what it don't mean," said Joe, jerkingout the words with an effort.
"Oh, no, Joe; how can that be?"
"Well, that's jist where I'm floored, Nelly. But it seem to be the fact,anyhow."
"Oh, Joe! And would the Saviour you've been a-tellin' me of say what Hedidna mean?" And a startled expression came over the child's face, as ifthe ground was slipping from beneath her.
"No, no, Nelly, He could not say that; but the pinch is about what theword do mean."
"Oh, the man in the chapel said it meaned everybody, an' I reckon heknows, 'cause he looked as if he wur sartin."
"Did he, Nelly? Then perhaps he wur right."
"Oh, yes, it's everybody, Joe. I feels as if it wur so inside."
"Purty little hangel!" said Joe, in an undertone. "But there aresomethin' in the Book about 'out of the mouths of babes an' sucklings.'I'll read it again when I gets home."
That night, as Joe Wrag sat in his hut alone, while the silence of theslumbering town was unbroken, save for the echoing footfall of thepoliceman on his beat, he seemed to see the iron wall of his creedmelt and vanish, till not a shred remained, and beyond where it stoodstretched endless plains of light and glory. And arching the sky fromhorizon to horizon, a rainbow glowed of every colour and hue, and inthe rainbow a promise was written in letters of fire, and as he gazedthe letters burst forth into brighter flame, and the promise was this,"Whosoever cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast them out." And overthe distant hills a great multitude appeared in sight--so many, indeed,that he could not number them. But he noticed this, that none of themwere sick, or feeble, or old. No touch of pain was on any face, no lineof care on any brow, and nearer and yet nearer they came, till he couldhear the regular tramp, tramp of their feet, and catch the words theywere chanting as if with one voice. How thankful he was that the greattown was hushed and still, so that he could not mistake the words. "Andthe Spirit and the Bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come.And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take thewater of life freely." And still nearer their echoing footfalls came,when suddenly the glowing arch of fire in his grate fell together, and apoliceman passing his hut with measured tread, shouted,--
"Good night, Joe. We shall have a storm, I reckon; the wind has got upterrible during the last hour."
"Ay, ay," responded Joe, rubbing his eyes and wondering for a momentwhat had come over him.
"You seem hardly awake, Joe," laughed the policeman.
"Believe I 'ave nodded a bit," said Joe. "But, bless me, how the wind dohowl!"
"Yes, it'll be rough outside the 'bar,' I reckon. I hope we shall haveno wrecks. Good night."
"Good night," said Joe, as he staggered out of his hut to mend the fire,which done, he sat down to reflect.
"Wur it a vision," he soliloquized, "or wur it a dream, or wur it'magination? Wur it given to teach or to mislead me? But, lor', howbright that promise did shine! I ken see it now. It are in the Bible,too, that's the queerest part on it. An' how beautiful they did sing,an' how they did shout out that part, 'Whosoever will.' Lor' bless us!I can't get it o
ut o' my noddle; nor I dunno that I want to, it's soamazin' comfortin', and much more nearer my idear of what God ought tobe, 'cause as how there is no limit to it."
And Joe scratched his head vigorously, which was a sure sign that somenew idea had struck him.
"Well, bang me!" he ejaculated, "if I ain't floored again. Ain't Godinfinite, an' if that be the case He must be infinite 'all round.' An'that bein' so, then His power's infinite, and His marcy's infinite, an'His love's infinite, an' He's all infinite. No limit to nothin'. An' ifthat be so, it don't square nohow with His love an' marcy stoppin' justat the point where the elect leaves off an' the reprobate begins."
And Joe took a long iron rod and stirred up the fire until it roaredagain, muttering to himself the while. "Well, if I ain't completelybanged. I'll ax little Nell. I b'lieve she knows more about it now thanI do, by a long chalk."
By this time slates and chimneypots began to drop around him in adecidedly dangerous fashion, and he had again to seek the shelter of hishut. But even there he did not feel quite safe, for the little woodenhouse rocked and creaked in the might of the storm, and threatened totopple over altogether.
There was no longer any chance of meditation, so he had to contenthimself listening to the roar of the storm. Sometimes he heard its voicemoaning away in the distant streets, and he wondered where it had goneto. Then he heard it coming up behind his hut again, at first quietly,as if meditating what to do; then it would gather strength and speed,and he would listen as it came nearer and nearer, till it would rushshrieking past his hut, making it creak and shiver, and once more therewould be a momentary lull.
And so Joe waited and listened through the wild solemn night, and longedas he had rarely done for the light of the morning to appear.