Christie, the King's Servant by Mrs O. F. Walton
page 37 of 118 (31%)
page 37 of 118 (31%)
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steady and regular progress. Across the heavy sand she came, up the low
bank, over the rough grass, slowly, steadily, surely, she moved onward, until at length she was placed in safety, far out of reach of the highest tide and the strongest sea. Thus, one after another, the boats were drawn up, and we were fairly tired before our work was done. I think it must have been that very day, that, as I was sitting painting, I once more heard the broken notes of the instrument which had troubled me so much before. It was that tune again, my mother's tune, and somehow, I do not know how it was, with the sound of my mother's tune there came back to my mind the remembrance of the Sunday service. Ah! my mother was on the right side of the line, I said to myself; she was a servant of Christ. But her son! what is he? I did not want to follow out this subject, so I jumped up from my camp-stool, and standing under the wall, I called, 'Little Jack, little Jack.' The music stopped at once, and the child came out. Dear, little merry fellow, how fond I was of him already! 'Yes, Mr. big Jack,' he said, as he ran out of the gate. 'Come and talk to me, old chappie,' I said, 'whilst I paint. Who plays music in your house?' 'I do,' said little Jack. '_You_ do, Jack? Why, you are a funny little fellow to play music! What do you play on, and who taught you?' |
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