Poppy's Presents

'Poppy,' said her mother, 'do you think you could find me a Mission Hymn-book?'

'Yes, mother,' said Poppy; 'here's one on the table.' The poor woman turned over the leaves with trembling fingers, for she was very weak and tired.

'Poppy, dear,' she said, when she had found the place, 'read this hymn to grandmother.'

And Poppy read:

'Jesus, I will trust Thee, trust Thee with my soul!Guilty, lost, and helpless, Thou canst make me whole.There is none in heaven or on earth like Thee;Thou hast died for sinners—therefore, Lord, for me.Jesus, I do trust Thee, trust without a doubt,Whosoever cometh Thou wilt not cast out:Faithful is Thy promise, precious isThy blood—These my soul's salvation, Thou my Saviour God!'

'Oh, grandmother, and oh, Poppy,' she said, when the child had finished reading, 'trust your soul to Jesus to-night.'

'Well, my dear, I will,' said poor old grandmother, wiping her eyes.

'And you, my own little Poppy?'

'Yes, dear mother,' said the child; 'I won't forget.'

CHAPTER XII

THE WONDERFUL FIRE

Polly, my dear,' said grandmother the next day, as she was washing the babies, 'I didn't forget what you asked me to do last night; but I'm afraid, my dear, I'm very much afraid.'

'What are you afraid of, granny?' asked Poppy's mother.

'Why, I'm afraid of getting cold and hard again, my dear,' she said; 'it's all very well for Poppy, but I've been putting off so long, I'm afraid of slipping into all the bad, old ways again. Why, my dear, I've tried to pray and to read my Bible scores of times before, but my mind has soon gone a-wandering away to my chickens, or to my butter or to the bit of washing I do for the Hall, and all such like things. Now, my dear, how do I know it won't be like that again?'

'Ye can't get cold and hard, granny, if the fire burns bright; and the Lord will keep it alight. He will indeed.'

'What do you mean by the fire, my dear?'

'Why, granny, I saw it at the Mothers' Meeting, Miss Lloyd showed us it, such a pretty picture! I've often thought of it since.'

'Tell me about it, my lass, if it won't bring the cough on.'

'No, I feel so much easier to-day, granny, it doesn't hurt me to talk like it did last week. I'll stop if it tires me. Well, there was a fire in the picture, burning on the hearth, a bright, cheerful, little fire, like I used to make of an evening when John Henry came home. And in front of the fire, granny, was a man throwing buckets full of water on it to put it out; but the fire was blazing away, and did not seem a bit the worse for it.'

'That was a queer thing, my dear!' said granny.

'Yes, but Miss Lloyd showed us that, behind the fire, on the other side of the wall, another was standing; and this one was quietly pouring oil into the fire to keep it burning. And it never had a chance of going out, granny, for the oil did it a deal more good than the water did it harm.'

'Well, my dear,' said grandmother, 'of course it would be so: oil makes a deal of blaze when it falls on fire; but what has that got to do with me and my poor old heart?'

But Polly had a bad fit of coughing, and the good old woman would not let her answer her question till she had had two hours' quiet rest. Then she seemed brighter again, and was able to go on.

'Miss Lloyd explained it beautiful, granny. She told us the fire was the work of grace in our hearts. As soon as we trusted our souls to Jesus to be saved, she said that fire was lighted, the good work was begun. But then, she said, "Don't forget you've got an enemy. Satan will try to put the fire out. He'll send somebody to laugh at you, or to plague you about turning religious. That's one bucket of water! He'll send you a lot of work to do, to try and make you think you've no time to think about your soul. That's another bucket of water!" He'll have all sorts of pleasures, and cares, and difficulties ready, all of them buckets of water, granny.'

'Ay, my dear, I see that, and I'll be bound there's a bucket not far off coming on my poor little fire. But what about the oil, my dear?'

'I'm coming to the oil, granny. Satan has his buckets of water, but the dear Lord has His bottle of oil. It's the Holy Spirit, granny, who alone can make us good, or keep us good. And if the Lord puts His Holy Spirit in our hearts, it's of no use Satan trying to put the fire out; he'll have to give it up for a bad job. Reach me the Testament, granny, there's a verse I'll read to you.'

She turned over the leaves for some time, and at last she found the words she wanted, and she put a mark against them, that granny might find them for herself when she had gone away.

The words were these, 'He which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.'

'Polly, my dear,' said granny, after a pause, 'do you think He'll do that for me?'

'Do what, granny?'

'Do you think He will give me His Holy Spirit?'

And then Polly's mother gave grandmother another text; but this time she did not find it, for she knew it by heart, 'If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him?'

Grandmother sat by the side of the bed long after Enoch and Elijah had fallen asleep. She seemed to have no heart to bustle about that morning. She wanted to feel sure that her soul was safe.

And when she thought that Poppy's mother was fast asleep, with her babies lying beside her, granny knelt down and said aloud, 'O Lord, I'm a poor sinful old woman, but I want Thee to save me. O Lord Jesus, Thou hast died for me. I trust my soul to Thee. Here it is, I put it into Thy hands. Oh give me Thy Holy Spirit; keep the fire bright in my soul, please, Lord Jesus, do. Amen.'

But Poppy's mother was not asleep, she was only lying with her eyes closed. And as the old woman got up from her knees she smiled, and said softly,

'The soul that to Jesus has fled for repose,
He will not, He will not desert to its foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavour to shake,
He'll never, no never, no never forsake.'

'Amen,' said granny, 'Amen.'

CHAPTER XIII

POPPY'S FATHER COMES HOME

The doctor was not wrong. In less than a week the Lord took Poppy's mother to His beautiful home, where there is no more sickness nor pain. And grandmother, and Poppy, and little Enoch and Elijah were left behind. But, as the grandmother and the child stood beside the grave where her body was laid to rest, they knew that she was far away, safe in His keeping to whom she had trusted her soul. They knew that she was well, and happy, and full of joy, and they tried to be glad for her sake.

Grandmother was anxious to get home, and, as soon as all could be arranged, she set off with Poppy and the twins. The neighbours were very kind, and did all they could to help them, and Jack rubbed away something with his sleeve, which was very like a tear, as he saw their train steam out of the station.

It was a new life for Poppy. Grandmother lived in a lovely valley, full of beautiful trees and running brooks, and quiet, peaceful glades, where in the daytime the squirrels played and the birds sang, where in the dim evening hours the rabbits came to nibble the grass, and where, at night, when Poppy and her little brothers were asleep, the solemn old owls sat in the trees, and called to each other in harsh and ugly voices.

Through the middle of the valley ran a white smooth road, winding in and out amongst the trees, and on this road came the carriages, driving quickly along, with the postillions in scarlet coats riding on the horses in front, and the ladies and gentlemen, who had come to see the beautiful valley, leaning back in the carriages behind.

It was Poppy's delight to open the gate for these carriages, and in this way she was able to save her grandmother a good deal of running about. She used to climb up the hillside, and watch until they were in sight, and then run down as fast as she could, that she might have the gate open in time for them to pass through. That was Poppy's work out of school hours, for grandmother sent her regularly to the pretty little country school, and would let nothing keep her away from it.

Dear old grandmother! how hard she worked for Poppy and for the babies! she thought nothing a trouble that she could do for them, and Poppy loved her more and more every day.

As the months went by, little Enoch and Elijah grew fat and strong; the fresh country air and the new milk made a wonderful change in them, and, when the next summer came, they were able to run about, and could climb on the hillside with Poppy, and gather the wild roses, and the harebells, and the honeysuckle, and would sit on the bank, near the cottage, watching the carriages, and trying to catch the pence which the people threw them as they drove by.

One Saturday afternoon, at the end of the summer, as Poppy was playing with them outside the lodge, she caught sight of a man coming quickly down the road. She ran to open the gate for him, but as she did so she gave a sudden cry of joy. It was her father, her long-lost father, come home again!

'Why, Poppy,' he said, 'my own dear little woman, what are you doing here? Come and kiss your poor father, Poppy. And who are these two bonny little lads?' he asked, as Enoch and Elijah came running up to him.