That Little Beggar Part 3

"You should not talk of her like that," I said, trying not to smile.

"She is really very fond of you, and very kind to you. If she was angry, it was because you were rude."

Chris moved impatiently. He did not like that view of the case. There was a pause, then: "Shall I tell you a story?" I asked. "I shall just have time before you go to your tea."

"I don't know," he answered, with some indifference. "I've heard them all lots of times. Briggs has told them to me often and often--'Jack the Giant-Killer', and 'Jack and the Beanstalk', and 'Red Riding-Hood', and 'Cinderella' ("I don't much like those two," he put in, with a touch of masculine contempt, "'cause they're all about girls"), and 'Hop o' my Thumb.' And the story of the Good Boy who had a cake, and gave it all away to the Blind Beggar and his dog, except a tiny, weeny piece for himself; and the Bad Boy who had a cake, and told a wicked story, and said there never was one, 'cause he didn't want anyone else to have it; and the Greedy Boy who had a cake, and ate it all up so fast he was dreadfully sick. Briggs has told them all to me, and she says there ain't no more stories to tell; leastways, if there are, she's never heard tell of them."

"If I were you I shouldn't say 'leastways', 'never heard tell', or 'ain't no more'," I remarked as he paused, out of breath.

"Why not?" he asked.

"They are not the expressions a gentleman uses," I answered.

"Does a lady?" he asked with curiosity; "'cause Briggs does."

"My dear child, never mind what Briggs does. We were not talking of her," I replied. "You know I have told you before you should not always ask so many questions. It is a troublesome habit."

"Is it?" he said, with the utmost innocence.

"Decidedly," I replied, and once more struggling not to mar the effects of my words by smiling. "Well, about my story. It is not one of those you have spoken of. I don't think that you have heard it."

"Then tell it to me, please," he said, with a touch of condescension.

"Well, once upon a time," I began, in the most approved fas.h.i.+on, "there were two men who had a great hill to climb. It was a long and difficult climb, but, if they only reached the top of that hill, they would be fully rewarded for all their pains. I will tell you why. There was there a beautiful country, where they would live and be happy for evermore. It was such a beautiful country! The trees were always green, the flowers never withered, and it was always sunny,--never a cloud to be seen. The Lord of that country was not only very great and powerful, but He was also very loving and good. He knew how wearying and difficult that uphill journey was to the dwellers in the valley beneath. So, in His love, He sent messengers to tell the travellers how they must journey if they hoped ever to reach the beautiful country over which He ruled.

"One of these messengers came to the two men of whom I have spoken just before they started on their journey, with these plain and simple directions:

"Follow the straight and narrow path that leads up-hill; you cannot mistake it, for it goes right on without any curves or twists. You will come across many rough and difficult places, but do not turn aside, though the path leads you over them. You may see other paths that lead round them, but don't turn off from the narrow one. Don't take the others; they don't lead up, they lead down. The straight path is the only right one. _Go straight on, don't be afraid._ These are my Lord's directions.

"'The journey is very tiring,' went on the messenger, 'and the sun will beat down by and by with much fierceness, so that you will suffer at times from great thirst. But, see, my Lord has sent you these!' As he spoke, he held out two flasks. You cannot imagine anything so beautiful as they were. They were made of pure gold, bright and s.h.i.+ning, and ornamented with diamonds that flashed and sparkled in the light like fire. To each of the men the messenger gave a flask.

"'Look,' he said, 'and you will find that they are filled with fresh, clear water. This water is magic; it will never come to an end, and you will never suffer from thirst, so long as you obey the order which my Lord sends you. This is the order. Drink none yourself, but give of it to all who need it. If you do so, your thirst will never overpower you.

But if you are churlish, and wish to keep it for yourself, some day you will suffer--suffer terribly. By and by you will find, too, that there is no water left, for the magic will all have gone! The beauty also of your flasks will have all disappeared; the gold will have become dim, the diamonds will have lost their sparkle, and you yourself will have no power to go onwards and climb higher. Good-bye--remember that my Lord waits to welcome you with love.'

"Now, when he had given them these directions, the messenger went, and after a while the two men started on their journey.

"At first the hill went up so gently that they hardly noticed the incline. The way did not appear very difficult in the beginning. They went through a wood where the trees were all young, and the leaves a tender green, as you see in the springtime, Chris, my dear. And the sunlight fell through the trees and made a pattern on the ground, which moved slowly and gracefully as the gentle breezes swayed the branches.

There were no rough places then, or, if there were, they were so slight that the two travellers hardly remarked them. And as they walked along they sang in the joy of their hearts; the suns.h.i.+ne, the soft light breezes, the pretty wild flowers, the trees--all made them so glad and so happy. Nor did they forget to give to all who pa.s.sed by some of the fresh, pure water out of their golden flasks.

"By and by they came out of the pretty little wood, and the hill became steeper, the rough places rougher and more frequent.

"Then one grew impatient. He wanted to go on more quickly than he had done hitherto. It seemed to him a waste of time to stop so often to give to the pa.s.sers-by that pure, refres.h.i.+ng water. Besides, he began to doubt the truth of the message he had received. It did not seem possible to him that he could give away the water in his flask and yet not suffer from thirst. He resolved to keep it all for himself. Nor could he believe that it was always necessary to follow the narrow path. It was a different thing when it led through the pretty wood, but now that it led so often over such difficult places, he determined to find an easier one. Therefore he separated from his companion, and went his own way, avoiding all the roughnesses of the road, and taking the paths that seemed less hard. Nor did he any longer stop to offer to others the magical water of his golden flask, he kept it all for himself, and let the wearied and sad ones pa.s.s him by without compa.s.sion.

"But he never remarked how dim the gold of the flask was growing, nor how fast the water was diminis.h.i.+ng. Nor did he see that instead of going up he was really going down-hill, and that the paths he chose were misleading him. In his hurry he never noticed this, till one sad day it came upon him.

"He had been feeling very tired and out of heart, for the way seemed so long and tiring. Yet, he had been struggling on, hoping to find his rest at last. On this day, however, he found that his strength had gone; he could climb no further. He took out his flask, now so dim, hoping to quench the terrible thirst that was overpowering him; but alas! alas!

there was hardly any water left; not nearly enough to revive him. So there, by himself, sad and disappointed--for he knew that now he would never see the happy land he had started for with such glorious hopes,--he died--died all alone and uncared for!

"And the other traveller? Well, he went straight on as the good Lord had directed. Often the rough places were terribly rough, and the sharp stones in the pathway wounded his feet sadly. Nevertheless, he never turned aside; he went right on as he had been directed, whilst to all those who pa.s.sed by, thirsting for some of the beautiful, clear water from his golden flask, he gave freely and willingly. Little children who met him with tearful eyes went on their way laughing and singing. Older people, also, who were too tired to cry, whose hearts were heavy with many sorrows, drank of that water and went on their way refreshed. And his golden flask remained bright, and the water within it undiminished, right to the very end.

"What was the end? Ah, it came sooner than he thought it would! The journey was not so very long after all! And when he arrived at that beautiful country, and his eyes saw 'The King in His beauty', he forgot all about the rough places, and all about his past weariness. It was the land of sunlight, you see, and the land of shadows pa.s.sed from his recollection for ever."

"Is that all?" Chris inquired, as I paused.

"Yes, that's all," I replied.

"It's a very nice story," he said, patronizingly. "I like it almost as much as 'Jack the Giant Killer' and 'Jack and the Beanstalk', and better than 'Cinderella'."

"Shall I tell you what it means?" I asked.

He looked at me doubtfully.

"Are you going to scold me?" he asked, moving restlessly on my knee; "'cause I'm going to be a good boy now."

"No, my dear, I'm not going to scold you," I said rea.s.suringly. "I only want to tell you what I mean by my story."

"Will it take long?" he asked; "'cause I'm hungry, and want my tea."

"No, it won't take long," I answered persuasively. "I will tell it to you quickly. This is what it means. You know, Chris, G.o.d wants us all to go to heaven and live with Him by and by. In His great love He has shown us all the way; it is the way that the blessed Jesus went; a way that sometimes takes us over hard and difficult places, but that always goes up--never down. It is a way that leads us higher and higher, right away to the happy land you were singing of last Sunday. But there is one thing G.o.d has told us to do if we ever hope to reach that happy land--we must love everyone. Just as the man who in my story reached the beautiful land at last, just as he gave freely of the water in his flask, so must we give freely of the love G.o.d has put into our hearts.

He has put it there, not that we should spend it on ourselves, but that we should spend it on others. So long as we do that, so long will our hearts remain pure and good as G.o.d wants them to be. And the more we love everyone, the more we shall know of G.o.d, and the nearer we shall be to heaven; for you see, dear, to know G.o.d is Heaven, and G.o.d is Love."

I paused, and Chris looked contemplative.

"I'm going to be like the good man, who gave away the water out of his flask," he said, with the air of one taking a great resolution. "I'm going to love everyone, and Briggs too."

"I like to hear you say that," I said, stroking his head, with the tumbled, golden curls. "Now, I think you had better go to your tea.

Briggs will be waiting for you."

He jumped off my knee and went as far as the door, then came back to my side.

"Miss Beggarley," he said, putting his arms round my neck, "I want to give you a great, good hug like I give my Granny. I love you very, very much."

CHAPTER III.

CONCERNING EIGHT FLIES.

"If you please, mum, what am I to do about Master Chris's lessons? You said you wished me to look over his clothes this morning, and I haven't time for that and lessons too." Briggs looked inquiringly at Granny as she spoke.

"Of course not, of course not," said Granny. "Bring me his books, Briggs; I will give them to him to-day."

"Yes, Granny, you give me my lessons," exclaimed Chris, dancing with glee and clapping his hands, evidently looking forward to a frivolous hour in her company.

"I hope, mum, you'll see he does no tricks," Briggs said, when she returned with Chris's books. "He's very fond of them. He'll read over what he's read before, with a face as innocent as a lamb's, and if I don't remember he'll never say a word to remind me."

"Go away, Briggs; I don't want you," the little beggar remarked with more truth than politeness.