Christie, the King's Servant: A Sequel to "Christie's Old Organ"Walton, O. F., Mrs.
Religion
Christie, the King's Servant: A Sequel to "Christie's Old Organ"
Walton, O. F., Mrs.
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction
'No, Jack, not in heaven, but on earth. Do you remember how the Master's
words run: "He shall receive an hundredfold _now, in this time_,
and in the world to come, life everlasting." The hundredfold is to be
enjoyed _here_, the everlasting life _there_.'
'I never noticed that before,' I said.
'I have proved it true, Jack, abundantly true. I sometimes think I have
got beyond the hundredfold. And then beyond, there lies the life
eternal.'
'My mother is enjoying that,' I said.
'Yes, indeed,' he answered; 'and her boy will enjoy it too in God's good
time, for does not the Master say of all those who belong to Him, "I
give unto them eternal life?" "I am come that they might have life, and
that they might have it more abundantly"?'
[Illustration]
Chapter XII
WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
I shall never forget my last Sunday in Runswick Bay. It was at the end
of September, and was one of those gloriously brilliant days which we
get in the early autumn, when the sky is cloudless, when the air is
fresh and clear, and when the autumnal tints on trees, hedges, ferns and
brambles make the landscape gorgeous and extremely beautiful and
fascinating.
The high cliff above the bay was a perfect study in colour that morning;
I have never seen more splendid colouring, every varied shade of red and
gold and green was to be found there.
'Tom will be off to Scarborough,' I said to myself as I dressed. 'What a
grand day he has got!'
But I did not wish myself with him; no, I was both glad and thankful to
look forward to a quiet and peaceful Sunday.
There were not many visitors still at Runswick, most of them had left
the week before; but the fishermen came in great numbers to the service,
and the green was covered with them when little Jack and big Jack
appeared, hand-in-hand as usual. Duncan was in the choir, but Polly
thought the wind rather cold for little John, so had remained with him
at home. A good many women and children were present, however, and the
bank was covered with mothers and babies, sitting at a little distance,
lest the noise of the children should disturb the preacher or the
listeners.
What was it that made me think of Tom just as the service began? Was it
a shepherd's plaid cloth cap, of the kind Tom wears, which I saw on the
head of some visitor who was sitting almost out of sight on the seaward
side of the bank? Such small things bring people and things before us
sometimes, and my thoughts wandered to Scarborough for a few minutes,
and I wondered what Tom was doing at that moment. I thought to myself
how he would smile, if he saw me sitting under the old boat and
listening attentively to an open air preacher.
But my thoughts did not wander long, for when the service began every
word of it seemed to be for me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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