Ingleside; $b or, Without Christ and with HimLeslie, Madeline
Religion
Ingleside; $b or, Without Christ and with Him
Leslie, Madeline
Christian fiction, American; Christian life -- Fiction; Country life -- Fiction; Invalids -- Fiction; Rural churches -- Fiction
The very boys in the street watched and wondered. Formerly, when he
passed the play-ground, he gazed at them, but in so serious a manner
that they felt almost guilty; now it was very different. He stood one
day at the entrance to a large field, given up to the use of the boys
for base-ball, watching the game with great interest.
"No, that is not the way," he shouted at last, leaping at one bound
over the high fence. "This was the way when I was a boy." He gave
the ball a kick, which sent it to the farther corner of the field,
and stood laughing at the loud cheers which rent the air, then
saying,—
"Play fair, boys; cheating don't pay," he gave another leap and
passed on, taking off his hat and waving it high in the air as they
cheered again.
A supply for the pulpit was readily obtained from a theological
school, and passage engaged in a Cunarder; but, as the reader may not
understand the necessity which called him to leave Grantbury, I will
take the liberty to insert here extracts from the letters in the
recovered package.
These were now in the hands of Marion, and he was to receive them
when he went to New York to take the steamer. It is unnecessary to
say that the young lady, having listened to the story of the brother,
devoted her first leisure to reading the confession of the sister.
The very first lines deeply moved her, recalling, as she did, Stella
bolstered up in her bed at the Home as she wrote, her curtain drawn
closely to shut out the sight of her companions.
The letter began:—
If I have a brother, and these words ever meet his eyes, let him read
them as coming from one who has deeply sinned against him, but who
has also deeply repented.
Judge her as charitably as you can, my brother, even as I trust God
will judge me; and remember that my prayers have gone up to God
continually for you, and my loving thoughts reach far away across the
waters, where, if still among the living, I suppose you are now.
"How strange!" reflected Marion, "that when she wrote that her
brother was in an adjoining ward, and that one minute's walk would
have taken him to her side."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account