Christian fiction; Didactic fiction; Domestic fiction; England -- Juvenile fiction; Mothers and sons -- Juvenile fiction
And the cross was placed at the head of Frank's grave, but the doctor
persuaded Fred to allow him to give Frank's message in a slightly
different form. Thus—"His last words were a message to his mother, to
tell her that he had taken care of Fred."
For a little more than a year, this arrangement continued to work very
well. Fred became very useful to the doctor, and Betty had no reason
to feel neglected. Then the dear old woman began to fail more and more
rapidly, and Fred spent the greater part of his time with her, but it
was with the doctor's full consent.
One evening—it was now September, and Dr. Wentworth had told Fred that
old Betty could not last much longer—the boy was sitting beside the bed
on which she lay; not suffering, only, as she said herself, "dying, and
very slow about it." They had both been silent for some time, and when
she said suddenly, "Is there any one here but us two, Fred?" poor Fred
started, for his thoughts were far away.
"No, Betty. Mrs. Summers—" Betty's eldest daughter—"has gone home to
see after the children, and John and his wife are coming presently to
stay all night with you."
"Very good children they've always been to me, and I must tell their
father that, for he laid it on them to be good to me. But I'm glad of
a quiet half-hour with you, dear. Sometimes I think you're nearer my
heart than my own children. You're so young, I suppose that's it. It's
just the day, Fred, and very near the hour, when you came knocking,
with your little soft hand, at the door yonder. I think I'd like to die
to-night. I'd like to be able to say, 'Lord, I'm only a poor ignorant
and hardworking woman, and it was very little I ever could do, beyond
earning my bread; but there was one thing—the boy that was sent to me
this very night many years ago, I took him for Thy sake, and I wasn't
bad to him.' I think I'd like to say that."
"It is less than the truth, dear Mrs. Betty. You saved me from misery,
and made me as happy as one so parted from his own people, and with
Frank dead, could ever be. And you'll meet Frank."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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