Charlie Scott by Unknown (rm book recommendations TXT) π
"Am I going to be with you always, Mrs. Heedman?" cried Charlie, opening his eyes very wide.
"Yes, I hope so," she answered. After a little more talking, principally on Charlie's side, who confided to her his private opinion of the cross Mrs. Wood, and his pleasure to think he was not going back to her any more, Mrs. Heedman left the room, and Charlie went to sleep.
CHAPTER III.
ADELAIDE ROW.
The house of the Heedmans was the end cottage of a long row, built for and occupied by the miners employed at the colliery that you might see in the distance. There were several rows of these cottages, but Adelaide Row, in which the Heedmans lived, was certainly the best in appearance. It was farthest from the mines, and was sheltered from the coal dust by its less fortunate neighbours. The houses looked cleaner and brighter altogether, and the little gardens flourished better.
John Heedman's ga
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When Charlie awoke, as he thought, from sleep, he found himself, to his great astonishment, in a neat little bed with white curtains and counterpane. A small table stood near, with a glass, and bottles of medicine, such as he remembered to have seen when his mother was ill; and opposite his bed hung a picture of the finding of Moses.
It was very strange: Charlie rubbed his eyes, thinking he could not be quite awake, surely, and looked again; but the things were still there. Then he tried to remember what happened before he went to sleep, but his head felt so weak and light that he could not think. He put his hand out and felt the curtains; they were real enough. Just as he was making up his mind that he would try to sit up and look about the room, the door was gently opened, and a pleasant face peeped in. Charlie remembered at once that it was good, kind Mrs. Heedman, who used to come and see his mother when she was ill.
She seemed surprised and glad to see that he knew her, and coming quickly up to him, gave him a kiss, put his pillow to rights, and told him he must not get up yet.
"I feel very tired, Mrs. Heedman," said Charlie languidly; "have I been asleep long?"
"You have been very ill, dear," she answered, gently, "so ill that you did not know any one for a few days. Are you glad I brought you here to this nice little bed, to take care of you?"
"Oh yes, thank you," said Charlie, earnestly. Mrs. Heedman saw that he was thinking and trying to remember something, so to change the current of his thoughts she poured out his medicine, and handed it to him. "Now drink this up, like a good boy," she said, "then I will bring you some beef tea soon."
Charlie rather unwillingly, and with a wry face, drank the mixture. As he gave her back the glass, his eye rested on a picture that had been hidden before by the curtain; it was a ship and some small boats at sea. In a moment the something that he had been trying to remember flashed upon him, and burying his face in the pillow to shut out the picture, he sobbed out, "Oh, father, father!"
Mrs. Heedman stood quietly by, waiting until the first burst of grief was over, and asking in her heart for the help of God's Holy Spirit to teach her what she had best say to comfort him. Presently the heavy sobs almost ceased; but Charlie did not move or speak. She took his hand in hers smoothing and caressing it, as if to assure him of her sympathy.
"Charlie dear," she said gently, "it is very sad, and very hard to bear, is it not?" Charlie did not speak. She sat down beside him, still keeping his hand in hers, and went on speaking.
"Last year, when my own dear little boy diedβyou remember Tom, don't you, Charlie? Well, when he was taken from me, I thought my heart would have broken; it seemed as if I should never be happy again. I felt sad and ill, and weary of everything, just as you feel now." Charlie turned towards her, and looked interested. "For some weeks I was very unhappy, and thought no one had such a trouble as mine; but afterwards I learned how wrong it was of me to find fault with God's will; and when I began to count up all the blessings I had received, and remembered all that my dear Lord Jesus Christ had done and suffered for me, I felt sure that He who loved me so much would not let me suffer any pain or sorrow that was not necessary for my good."
Charlie was listening attentively; he quite understood all Mrs. Heedman said. His mother had often read to him out of the Bible, and spoken to him of the Saviour.
Mrs. Heedman went on: "You must remember, Charlie, that you are now one of God's very dear children. We are all His children, but He has especial love and care for those whom He has been obliged to leave without any earthly parents. God promises in His own holy book, the Bible, that He will be 'a Father to the fatherless;' that He will relieve the fatherless; that He will help the fatherless; and that if the fatherless cry unto Him, He will surely hear their cry. When you are stronger, I will find the passages and read them to you, and many others that are very comforting. Now it is quite time that you had your beef tea; I will get it for you, and then we can talk again."
Charlie thought the beef tea was delicious; he was already beginning to feel that relish for savoury food that most fever patients experience when they are recovering.
"It's very nice," he kept repeating; and every now and then Mrs. Heedman met his blue eyes gazing into hers with a thoughtful, inquiring sort of look. At last he said, "Mrs. Heedman, do you think it was God who put it into your heart to bring me here and be so kind to me?"
"Yes, Charlie, I am sure of it."
"Then I'm quite sure that God loves me," said Charlie, energetically. "I can't help crying when I think about father," as he burst into another flood of tears; "but," he added, "I will try not to think any more that it was not kind of God to let him be drowned and leave me by myself. I was thinking so a little while since;" and dropping his voice, he went on, "I want you, please, to tell me all about itβwhere father is, and uncle John. I saw them lift some one out of the water, dead, but I forget what happened after."
Mrs. Heedman told him as gently and as kindly as she could about his father's funeral; who arranged it, and where he was buried, and that his uncle's body had not been found. "When you are better, Charlie, we will go and see the grave, and you shall set some flowers on it."
"When I am a man," burst in Charlie, "I shall buy a beautiful tombstone for it."
"Very well," said Mrs. Heedman, getting up. "Now you must try to sleep a little. How very good and merciful God has been to you, Charlie, to spare your life in this illness! If it is His will, I trust I shall be able day by day to teach you how to devote the life He has given you to His service."
"Am I going to be with you always, Mrs. Heedman?" cried Charlie, opening his eyes very wide.
"Yes, I hope so," she answered. After a little more talking, principally on Charlie's side, who confided to her his private opinion of the cross Mrs. Wood, and his pleasure to think he was not going back to her any more, Mrs. Heedman left the room, and Charlie went to sleep.
CHAPTER III ADELAIDE ROW.HE house of the Heedmans was the end cottage of a long row, built for and occupied by the miners employed at the colliery that you might see in the distance. There were several rows of these cottages, but Adelaide Row, in which the Heedmans lived, was certainly the best in appearance. It was farthest from the mines, and was sheltered from the coal dust by its less fortunate neighbours. The houses looked cleaner and brighter altogether, and the little gardens flourished better.
John Heedman's garden was the pride of his heart, and the admiration and envy of the rest of "the Row." It certainly did look very gay and pretty. There were bright China-asters, sweet-scented stocks, French marigolds, rose bushes laden with blossoms, little clusters of candytuft, Virginia-stock, mignonette, and many other flowers, contrasting well in colour, and grouped in such good taste.
If John Heedman took a pride in his garden, Mrs. Heedman certainly took a pride in her house. Not that their furniture was more expensive than that of many of their neighbours, but it was in good order and neatly arranged. Nice white curtains were up at the windows; a few sweet-smelling flowers stood in a glass; and in a corner were some bookshelves, made and painted by John Heedman himself, after work-hours, and very well stocked with good books; altogether there was an air of cleanliness, comfort, and refinement over all that made you wish to know the owners.
Mrs. Heedman often said in answer to her neighbours' remarks "that she must spend a deal of money over her house."β"It costs me nothing but a little thought and extra work. The poorest of us may indulge in order and cleanliness indeed, when you come to think of it, dirt and disorder cost the most, because your furniture gets soiled, and knocked about, and destroyed."
After Mrs. Heedman left Charlie, she began to prepare her husband's tea in the next room; and nicely she looked, as she moved lightly about in her clean light-print dress and white collar, her dark hair smoothly and plainly arranged, and a smile on her face. It was a face that made you look twice. Her eyes were so calm, so full of peace, you felt instinctively it was that peace which God alone can give. Some people do not believe that Christianity can make them happy; that is, because they have never felt it in their hearts. It is a peace which passeth all understanding. She was thinking of Charlie; how he would learn to love her, and please God; what a scholar he would be, and how carefully she would train him. She was trying to picture what he would be like if he lived to grow up, when John Heedman opened the door.
"Tea will be ready in a minute, John," she said, looking up; "I've been sitting with that dear child, and the afternoon has flown I scarcely know how. He got a turn for the better about one o'clock, and woke up quite conscious and sensible;" and stepping softly to the door, she beckoned him to follow. They both stood looking at Charlie as he slept. He was very pale, traces of tears were still on his face, and one little thin white hand hung listlessly over the side of the bed. John Heedman stooped and touched it gently with his own rough, strong hand. "Poor little one!" he murmured.
That night, as John Heedman and his wife sat at tea, they determined to adopt Charlie, and make him as their own.
"I think," said John Heedman, "we ought to accept this child as a sacred charge from God, sent to us to be taken care of and trained for Him. Our duty seems plain enough; it is true we shall not be able to save so much, but perhaps there was a danger of our getting too fond of our bit of money; and God has seen this and sent the child, that, through it we may lend the money to Him. We shall have our treasure in heaven, instead of laying it up on earth."
"That is true," said Mrs. Heedman. "We shall be no poorer for what we spend on the child; and as for our old age, we will trust to the LordβHe will provide."
In a week's time Charlie was able to sit up; his favourite seat was at the open window, looking out into the pretty garden. He would sit for hours watching the gay butterflies and busy bees, roving from flower to flower, and gazing up at
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