A Knight of the Nineteenth CenturyRoe, Edward Payson
General
A Knight of the Nineteenth Century
Roe, Edward Payson
Fiction
"'Don't you think you would love the boy a little even though he had a
hump on his back and his features were thin and sharp and pale?' 'Mrs.
Arnot,' says I, moppin' my eyes agin, 'if you say another word about the
little chap I shall be struck all of a heap, fur my heart jist
kinder--kinder pains like a toothache to do somethin' for him.' Then all
of a suddent she turns on me sharp agin, and says she, 'I think you are
a very inconsistent man, Mr. Growther. You have been runnin' yourself
down, and yet you claim to be better than your Maker. He calls himself
our Heavenly Father, and yet you are sure that you have a kinder and
more fatherly heart than he. You are one of his little, weak, deformed
children, twisted all out of shape, as you have described, by his enemy
and yours, and yet you the same as say that you would act a great deal
more like a true father toward your child than he will toward his. You
virtually say that you would rescue your child and be pitiful and tender
toward him, but that your Heavenly Father will leave you in the clutches
of the cruel enemy, or exact conditions that you cannot comply with
before doing anything for you. Haven't you read in the Bible that "Like
as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear
him"? You think very meanly of yourself, but you appear to think more
meanly of God. Where is your warrant for doing so?'
"The truth bust in on me like the sunlight into this old kitchen when we
open the shutters of a summer mornin'. I saw that I was so completely
floored in the argerment, and had made such a blasted old fool of myself
all these years, that I just looked around for a knot-hole to crawl
into. I didn't know which way to look, but at last I looked at her, and
my withered old heart gave a great thump when I saw two tears a-standin'
in her eyes. Then she jumps up and gives me that warm hand o' her'n and
says: 'Mr. Growther, whenever you wish to know how God feels toward you,
think how you felt toward that little chap that was abused and beaten
all out o' shape,' and she was gone. Well, the upshot of it all is that
I don't think a bit better of myself--not one bit--but that weakly
little chap, with a peaked face and a hump on his back, that Mrs. Arnot
made so real-like that I see him a-lookin' at me out of the cheer there
half the time--he's a makin' me better acquainted with the Lord, for the
Lord knows I've got a hump on my back and humps all over; but I keep
a-sayin' to myself, 'Like as a father pitieth his children,' and I don't
feel near as much like cussin' as I used to. That little chap that Mrs.
Arnot described is doin' me a sight o' good, and if I could find some
poor little critter just like him, with no one to look after him, I'd
take him in and do for him in a minit."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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