ted to approach him, he would take to his heels, and spring over
walls and fences with such agility that there was no hope of overtaking
him.
Miss L., his teacher in the Sabbath school, was a young lady belonging
to one of the wealthiest families in the village. One cold afternoon in
December, after Jamie had been absent from his class more than a month,
he made his appearance at the back door of her father's house, asking to
see her.
"No, no," said the cook, "ye needn't be thinking the young leddy'll come
in the woodshed to see ye. If ye have any message, ye can go in the
house."
"I don't look nice enough to go in," said Jamie, glancing ruefully at
his torn trousers and coarse, muddy boots.
But it so happened that Miss L. was passing through the hall, and she
heard and recognized the voice at once; so she came to the door to see
what was wanted.
Jamie hung his head in confusion, while the young lady kindly took his
hand in hers, and asked if he had been well, and why he had not been to
Sabbath school.
"Me father wouldn't let me come," he sobbed out at last; "he bate me
because I'd been to the Sabbath school."
"Poor child!" exclaimed Miss L. "But does your father know you came
here this afternoon?"
"No, ma'am; but he said I might have every half holiday to go skating,
if I promised never to go inside the Sabbath school again. So I brought
me Testament, and I thought mebbe you'd teach me here, ma'am."
Was it not a bold request? Did not Jamie know that with home duties and
the claims of social life, his teacher's time must be fully occupied?
Might she not think that her services on the Sabbath were all that
should be required of her?
Ah, no; what were time, and strength, and fashionable amusements, to be
compared with the value of a precious soul? Miss L. could only thank God
for so rich a privilege, and enter with joy upon the work of
instruction.
So every half holiday found Jamie seated by her side in the beautiful
library, earnestly studying the words of the Master, who has said,
"Suffer little children to come unto Me."
Skating-time came and went; the last ice had melted from the pond; but
never once had Jamie gone skating. He had found a source of better,
deeper delight, than even boyish sports could afford.
But Jamie could not always hide the fact that he was spending his time
in this way.
[Illustration: "_It's me Testament, father_."]
One day, his well-worn Testament fell from hi
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