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Christie, the King's Servant by Mrs O. F. Walton
page 37 of 118 (31%)
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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