"There are none before me to-day who can say, 'He never came to me.' Sinner, he is near you now, near enough to hear your voice, near enough to answer your call. Will you call upon him? Will you let him help you? Will you take him for your Savior? Will you serve him while you live on earth that you may live in heaven to serve him forever?" From Tode's inmost soul there came answers to these solemn questions: "I will, I will, I will." And there went out from the church that Sabbath day one young heart who felt himself cured of his blindness by that same Jesus of Nazareth; who felt himself given up utterly to Jesus, body and soul and life; and without a great insight as to what that solemn consecration meant, he yet took in enough of it to feel a great peace in his heart. "There goes a Christian man, if ever there was one." This said a gentleman to his companion, speaking of another who had passed them. Tode overheard it, and stood still on the street. "A Christian," said he to himself, quoting from a sentence in Mr. Birge's sermon. "A Christian is one who loves and serves the Lord Jesus Christ with his whole heart." Then aloud. "I wonder, I do wonder now, if I am a Christian? Oh, what if I was!" A moment of earnest thought, then Tode held up his head and walked firmly on. "I _mean_ to be," he said, with a ring in his voice that meant decision. Tode was dusting and putting in order a lately vacated room one morning. He was whistling, too; he whistled a great deal these days, and felt very bright and happy. He picked up three leaves which had evidently been torn from an old book; reading matter was rather scarce with him, and he stopped the dusting to discover what new treasure might be awaiting him here. He spelled out, slowly and carefully, the name at the top: "H-a-b-a-k-k-u-k." "Queerest name for a book ever I heard of," he muttered. "Words must have been scarce, I reckon. Let's see what it reads about. School book, like enough; if 'tis I'll get it all by heart." And Tode sat down upon the edge of a chair to investigate. The story, if story it were, commenced abruptly to him. "Scorn unto them," being the first words on the page. He read on: "They shall deride every stronghold; for they shall heap dust and take it." "My! what curious talk," said Tode. "What ever is it coming at? I can't make nothing out of it." Nevertheless he read on; only a few lines more and then this sentence: "Art thou not from everlasting, O Lord my God, mine Holy One?" A sudden look of intelligence and delight flushed over Tode's face; and springing up he rushed into the hall and down the stairs, nearly tumbling over Mr. Ryan in his haste. Mr. Ryan was a good-natured boarder, and on very friendly terms with Tode. "Oh, Mr. Ryan!" burst forth Tode. "What is this reading on these leaves?" "Why, Tode, what's up now; forgot how to read?" "Oh bother, no; but I mean where did it come from. It's tore out of a book, don't you see?"