A strange flush stole up into Alick Carnegy's cheeks; for the life of
him he could not help applying Jerry's excellent logic to himself. The
stern, high-minded face of the tutor he had insulted floated before the
boy's eyes, and he winced, for the second time that day, at Jerry's
words, as he remembered how he had fought with and rebelled against the
authority set over him. Alick's conscience was by no means altogether
deadened, and his triumph was dashed.
'Yes,' continued Jerry reflectively, as he watched the smoke curling
upward in the air, 'and 'tis the very same wi' ourselves, after we're
growed up to manhood. That's how the Almighty deals with us. He's
firm--none firmer; and He's kinder to us than we knows on--none
kinder--if so be as we would but trust ourselves to His way.'
Jerry Blunt, exposed to temptations many and varied, had always been a
right-thinking, honest kind of lad. In spite of his wanderings to and
fro over the earth, he retained his early faith intact.
'Many's the time in my life,' he went on, speaking in a gravely
reverent tone, 'I've fought to get my will in some things--struck out
blindly, as you might say; but there was always the firm Hand guiding
me in His way, not my own. Even when this mishap befell me'--Jerry
touched his empty sleeve--'though I couldn't see it at the time, bein'
so ignorant-like, it was all a-purpose for my good.'
'How, Jerry? What on earth do you mean? To lose your right arm must
have been a frightful bit of bad luck!' Alick spoke in astonishment,
but with a certain amount of respect for one who had had such a large
experience as the bird-trainer.
'There ain't no such thing as luck, either good or bad,' Jerry took out
his pipe to say. ''Tis God's will; that's the properest word
for't--not luck. As for my own misfortin', as everybody called it,
why, after all it didn't turn out so bad, when you come to think it
out.'
'Why? Do tell us all about it, Jerry, will you?' urged Alick, to whom
the topic of the North Pole expedition was always attractive; and he
threw himself back on the mossy ground to listen in rapt attention.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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