Blade-O'-Grass. Golden Grain. and Bread and Cheese and Kisses.Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
General
Blade-O'-Grass. Golden Grain. and Bread and Cheese and Kisses.
Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
Christmas stories; Fiction
If the administration of the trust occupies the
chief portion of your time, you shall be warranted in drawing from the
funds the sum of one hundred and fifty pounds per annum--to cease
immediately your labours cease.
* * * * *
It is long past midnight. As I look out of window, I see that the moon
has risen, and that the heavens are filled with stars. My garden is
really beautiful now, with the light shining upon it. I have never
seen my property present so fair an aspect as it does at this present
moment. The river is very beautiful also. I will go out and stroll
along the banks, or sit and muse, as the whim seizes me. Shall I wish
you 'Good-night before I go? No, I will wait until I return.
* * * * *
Three hours have passed since I wrote the last words. I have heard no
human voice, and yet it seems to me that I have heard voices. The air
has grown very sweet. Flecks of gold are coming into the sky. I have
watched their faint colour grow strong. It is sunrise. A golden mist
is rising from the waters. I cannot tell you what has passed through
my mind during the last few hours. I cannot tell you what is in it
now. I can scarcely comprehend it myself, but I feel happier than I
have felt for some time. I cannot wish you Good-night, for the night
has passed. Good-morning, Andrew!
XV.
FAIRHAVEN.
The perusal of this remarkable document affected me beyond power of
description. My mother's letter to Mr. Fairhaven brought her dear
figure vividly to my mind's eye, and I sobbed from happiness. It was
love that had accomplished this wonderful thing--love, which death
cannot destroy.
I read the latter portion of the document again and again, until I
could almost repeat the words from memory. 'Good-morning, Andrew,'
were Mr. Fairhaven's last words to me. Ah, yes! In the night of his
life the morning had dawned sweetly and holily. I blessed him for his
noble revenge. I prayed for strength, for wisdom, to worthily fulfil
the solemn trust reposed in me.
But in what way to apply it, so that unalloyed good might spring from
its use? My heart cried out, 'Teach me! Show me the way!' An answer
came. Side by side I saw the figures of Ruth and Blade-o'-Grass. 'Look
here and here,' a voice seemed to say to me. 'See this one trodden
into the mire. See this one tended, cared for, raised to purity and
usefulness.' I trembled with mingled fear and happiness. A great
thought loomed upon my mind, like a sunrise to my soul.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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