Children -- Religious life -- Juvenile fiction; Christian life -- Juvenile fiction; Tableaux -- Juvenile fiction
"I mean, papa,--that I belong to the Lord Jesus, and must do what he
tells me."
"What am I to understand by that, Daisy?"
"Nothing, papa; only I thought you ought to know."
"Do you understand what you are saying yourself, my child?"
"Yes, papa."
"What does it mean, Daisy?"
"Only, papa, I want you to know that I belong to the Lord Jesus."
"Does that imply that you will not belong to me any more?"
"O no, papa!"
"Why do you tell it me, then?"
"Papa, Jesus says he will be ashamed of those who are ashamed of him; I
will not be ashamed of him; so I want you to know what I am."
"But, Daisy, you and I must come to an understanding about this," said
Mr. Randolph, taking a chair. "Does this declaration mean that you are
intending to be something different from what I like to see you?"
"I do not know, papa."
"You do not! Does it mean that you are proposing to set up a standard of
action for yourself, independent of me?"
"No, papa."
"What then, Daisy?"
"Papa, I do not quite know what you mean by a _standard_."
"I will change the word. Do you mean that your purpose is to make,
henceforward, your own rules of life?"
"No, papa; I do not mean that."
"What do you mean?"
"Papa," said Daisy, very deliberately, "if I belong to my Saviour,--you
know,--I must follow his rules."
"Daisy, I shall not cease to require obedience to mine."
"No, papa,--but----" said Daisy, colouring.
"But what?"
"I don't know very well how to say what I want, papa; it is difficult."
"Try."
"Papa, you will not be displeased?"
"That depends upon what you have to say. Daisy."
"Papa, I do not _mean_ to displease you," said the child, her eyes
filling with tears. "But--suppose----"
"Well,--suppose anything."
"Suppose _those_ rules should be different from your rules?"
"I am to be the judge, Daisy. If you set up disobedience to me, on any
pretext, you know the consequences."
Daisy's lip trembled; she put up her hands to her face and burst into
tears. She could not bear that reminder. Her father took one of her
hands down and kissed the little wet cheek.
"Where are you going to find these rules, Daisy," he said kindly, "which
you are going to set up against mine?"
"Papa, I do not set them up."
"Where do you get them?"
"Only in the Bible, papa."
"You are a little child, Daisy; you are not quite old enough to be able
to judge properly for yourself what the rules of that book are. While
you are little and ignorant, I am your judge, of that and everything
else; and your business is to obey me. Do you understand that?"
"But, papa----"
"Well--what?"
"Papa, I am afraid you will be angry."
"I do not think I shall. You and I had better come to an understanding
about these matters. Say on, Daisy." "I was going to say, papa--"
Daisy was afraid to tell what. Mr. Randolph again stooped and kissed
her; kissed her two or three times.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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