He opened a drawer and showed me a box, and boat,
and knives, and powderhorn, and all his treasures, and told me a world
of new things about what the boys did there.
Then he undressed first and jumped into bed. I was much longer about it,
for a new set of thoughts began to rise in my mind.
When my mother put my purse into my hand, just before the train started,
she said tenderly, in a low tone, "Remember, Robert, that you are a
Christian boy."
I knew very well what that meant, and I had now just come to a point of
time when her words were to be minded.
At home I was taught the duties of a Christian child; abroad I must not
neglect them, and one of these was evening prayer. From a very little
boy I had been in the habit of kneeling and asking the forgiveness of
God, for Jesus' sake, acknowledging His mercies, and seeking His
protection and blessing.
"Why don't you come to bed, Robert?" cried Fred. "What are you sitting
there for?"
I was afraid to pray, and afraid not to pray. It seemed that I could not
kneel down and pray before Fred. What would he say? Would he not laugh?
The fear of Fred made me a coward. Yet I could not lie down on a
prayerless bed. If I needed the protection of my heavenly Father at
home, how much more abroad.
Pages:
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74