Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Chapter I: Alone in the wood
 Chapter II: New scenes
 Chapter III: Charley's new...
 Chapter IV: Tom's new friend
 Chapter V: A discovery
 Chapter VI: Hours of weakness
 Chapter VII: Unexpected help
 Chapter VIII: Tom his own...
 Chapter IX: The runaway found
 Chapter X: The testament resto...
 Back Cover

Title: Charley Hope's testament
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00049564/00001
 Material Information
Title: Charley Hope's testament
Physical Description: 95 p., 1 leaf of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 15 cm..
Language: English
Creator: Leslie, Emma
Religious Tract Society (Great Britain) ( Publisher )
Unwin Brothers (Firm) ( Printer )
Publisher: Religious Tract Society
Place of Publication: London
Manufacturer: Unwin Brothers
Publication Date: [1882?]
Subject: Christian life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Orphans -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children and death -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Poverty -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Theft -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Hunger -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Prize books (Provenance) -- 1882   ( rbprov )
Bldn -- 1882
Genre: Prize books (Provenance)   ( rbprov )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
England -- Chilworth
General Note: Date of publication from inscription.
General Note: Frontispiece printed in colors.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00049564
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002232948
notis - ALH3347
oclc - 62331788

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page i
        Page ii
    Title Page
        Page iii
    Table of Contents
        Page iv
    Chapter I: Alone in the wood
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
    Chapter II: New scenes
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
    Chapter III: Charley's new companions
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
    Chapter IV: Tom's new friend
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
    Chapter V: A discovery
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
    Chapter VI: Hours of weakness
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
    Chapter VII: Unexpected help
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
    Chapter VIII: Tom his own master
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
    Chapter IX: The runaway found
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
    Chapter X: The testament restored
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
Full Text


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('-Aki.Y HOPEI '- T'S AM i'N'.



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I. ALONE IN THE WORLD ........................ 5

II. NEW SCENES .................................... 17

III. CHARLEY'S NEW COMPANIONS ............... 28

IV. TOM'S NEW FRIEND............................. 36

V. THE DISCOVERY ................................ 48

VI. HOURS OF WEAKNESS ........................ 57

VII. UNEXPECTED HELP............................ 65

VIII. TOM HIS OWN MASTER ........................ 73

IX. THE RUNAWAY FOUND ........................ 0

X. THE TESTAMENT RESTORED ................. o9




N a neat and tidy but scantily-
furnished room, that served the
purpose of bedroom, sitting-
room, and kitchen, sat a young woman
busily engaged in sewing. Her face
was thin and pale, and worn with lines
of care. As she sat wearily at her
work, Mrs. Hope turned her head
towards the bed where her child lay.
"Can't you cometobed now, mother?"
"No, not yet, my darling; lie down

and go to sleep again, there's a good
But I want to keep awake for you,
mother," said Charley. I've been
dreaming about father : I thought he
came to take you to live with him, and
I was left all alone. You won't go
away and leave me, will you?" he
I hope not yet, Charley," said his
mother, the tears coming into her eyes,
so that she could scarcely see where to
put her needle.
Charley's father had not been dead
many months, and he yet remembered
the time when his home was a very
different one. Mr. Hope had been a
clerk, but shortly after his marriage his
health failed, and, about the time of
Charley's birth, he lost his employment
in consequence, andthen family troubles
began, and they had sunk lower and
lower in poverty, until at length they
were glad to get the little back-room
they now occupied; and here the hus-
band died, leaving his wife to struggle
on alone for the support of herself and
child, who was now about ten years old.

"Mother, say you are sure you won't
leave me," said Charley, after a few
minutes' silence.
" I can't say that, my dear," said his
mother; "because God may send for
me; but if He did, He would take care
of my little Charley for me."
It was long after every sound was
hushed in the house and street, that
Mrs. Hope crept shivering into bed, and
it was late the next morning before
she awoke. Charley was the first
to wake, and creeping out of bed, he
went to the cupboard to see if they
were likely to have any breakfast; he
heaved a deep sigh as he looked at
the bare shelves, and this, with the
noise he made moving the chair, woke
his mother.
"What are you doing, Charley?"
she said, starting up in bed.
0 mother! there's no bread, and
I'm so hungry," said Charley, bursting
into tears.
Never mind, you shall have some
presently,-don't cry; mother will take
her work to the warehouse, and get a
little money, and buy some bread."

This was joyful news for the little
boy, and he wiped his eyes instantly.
"Let me come with you," he said,
a short time afterwards, when his
mother was putting on her bonnet and
"You must run all the way, then, be-
cause I want to make haste," said Mrs.
Hope; and she put on his things, and
taking up the bundle of shirts she had
been making, the two set off together.
After she had given in the work, and
received the humble pittance paid for
it, she was told she must come again in
the evening for some more-the new
work was not ready then.
"Come, Charley," she said, when
she had got outside, where she had left
him waiting, we must make haste and
walk fast; mother has to go somewhere
else for some work."
"Why ?" asked Charley.
Because there is to be no more
given out till this evening," said his
"Then why don't you have a rest ?
I should think you would be glad of
it," said Charley. The tears came into

Mrs. Hope's eyes as he said it. Rest I
Oh, how she longed for it, if it were but
a few hours' respite from her constant
toil. She little thought, as she sighed
for it, how near her resting-time was;
that even now the angel-messengers
were at hand to bear her to her eternal
"Mother, can't you go home now?
I want some breakfast," said poor
Charley, as she turned in an opposite
direction from that leading homewards.
You shall have it soon, dear," she
said; "but I can't afford to sit idle even
for a day, or we should have nothing
to eat to-morrow; and she quickened
her pace, while Charley ran by her
For a few minutes they walked on at
this increased speed, but gradually their
pace slackened, until at length Mrs.
Hope sank down upon a door-step, and
said in a faint whisper, 0 Charley, I'm
ill! The next moment her head fell
back. Charley's screams, when he saw
this, attracted the attention of several
people who were passing, one of whom
happened to be a doctor; and he called

a cab, and, after learning from Charley
where they lived, got into it himself, and
went with the now helpless Mrs. Hope
to her home
When he arrived there, every effort
was used by the kind-hearted doctor to
restore her; but he found that she had
so seriously ruptured a blood-vessel, and
was moreover in such a weak condition,
that he entertained but slight hopes of
her recovery. The people of the house
where she lived were very kind, and pro-
mised to look to her after the doctor
had left; but as he said he did not think
any material change would take place in
her state at present, but that she would
gradually sink, perhaps in the course of
a week, Charley was left to watch by
her bedside, with orders to call Mrs.
Watkins when she awoke.
For more than an hour he sat and
gazed at the still white face, and oc-
casionally smoothed the hair that lay
in disorder on the pillow. He was still
doing this when she awoke. For a few
minutes she lay silent, unable to recol-
lect where she was or what had occurred;
but gradually the memory of it all came

back again, and the conviction was forced
upon her mind that she had but a few
hours to live. All her thoughts were in-
stantly centred in her beloved Charley.
For herself she had nothing to fear; she
knew that her sins were all washed
away in the blood of Jesus; she had
long ago committed her soul in faith to
Him, and she knew that death to her
would be gain. But the thought of
leaving her child alone in the world was
a cause of deep affliction; and, with her
little remaining strength, she prayed
that God would watch over and protect
him, and at last bring him to dwell with
her before His face.
Get up on the bed, and come close
to me, dear," she whispered. Charley
soon laid his curly head down close to
hers. Charley, the Lord is coming to
fetch mother presently, and you will be
left all alone. But don't forget to say
your prayers-' Our Father' and 'Gentle
Jesus'-every night and morning; and
mind you always tell the truth, and ask
God to teach you by His Holy Spirit tc
love Him, and then, by-and-by, you will
come to heaven to me."

0 mother, can't I go now?" said poor
Charley, beginning to cry. I want
you more than father does,-don't go to
him yet; stay with me a little longer."
No, dear, I can't stay any longer,"
said his mother, forcing back the tears
that came welling up to her eyes; but
you will stay, and learn to love and obey
God, and then come to live withHim. Go
and open my box, Charley, and bring me
my Testament," she added. The child
slipped off the bed and fetched the book.
Now give me the scissors," she said,
as she took it. The scissors were
brought, and gathering some of her hair
in her fingers, she cut it off, and, wrap-
ping it in paper, placed it inside the
"There, Charley," she said; keep
that in remembrance of your mother,
when she shall be in heaven."
These words were spoken in much
weakness, and for a few minutes after-
wards she lay quite motionless, the
exertion of speaking had so exhausted
her feeble strength. Charley stood
watching her, and though but half
comprehending the scene, a weight of

sorrow seemed to press upon his young
heart, that prevented him yielding to
his inclination to cry, or even to be
pleased with his mother's gift.
Aftera fewminutes' silence, his mother
opened her eyes again andturned towards
him. Charley," she whispered, "kiss
me, and say God is love!' "
'God is love' i repeated Charley.
Now again, my dearest," she whis-
pered. Charley repeated the words
Never forget that, Charley, 'God is
love! Good-bye-meet me in heaven.
' God is love!'" she murmured once more,
as her eyes closed, and the loving clasp
relaxed that held Charley's hand.
A few minutes afterwards, she peace-
fully fell asleep-that sleep which none
can disturb until the morning of the re-
surrection shall dawn, and the trump
of the archangel shall awaken all that
sleep in the dust.
Mrs. Watkins had been in once or
twice, and looked at Mrs. Hope, during
the time Charley had been watching,
and she came in again about half-an-
hour after the last sigh had been drawn,

Is your mother awake ? she said
in a whisper.
"She has been awake," said Charley;
" but she's gone to sleep again now."
The woman came to the side of the
bed, and looked at the peaceful face, and
saw at once that death had for ever
closed the eyes; and taking Charley by
the hand, she led him to her own room,
and sent for a neighbour to consult upon
what she had better do.
Send to the workhouse, directly,"
was the advice given; and, accordingly,
a messenger was sent at once to the
"What do you mean to do with the
child ?" asked the same woman; "shall
you send him to the workhouse to-
night ? "
Charley heard this, and asked to go
back to his mother.
No, no; you must stay here now;
you can't go to your mother any more."
"Why not? asked Charley, burst-
ing into tears; "she hasn't gone to
heaven yet; she's asleep in the other
"But you can't go to her," said Mrs

Watkins; "you must stay here, like
a good boy, and not make such a
I won't stop here!" screamed Char-
ley; "take me to my own mother-I
want her."
"Ah you'll have something to cry
for when you get to the workhouse, my
boy," said Mrs. Watkins; they'll beat
that temper out of you."
I won't go to the workhouse !" said
What a little limb !" said the neigh-
bour; I should think you'd send him
off at once."
But when the parish authorities came,
it was arranged that Charley should
stay where he was until after his mother's
funeral, and then be taken into the
But the treatment he met with from
Mrs. Watkins, and the frequent threats
of what this would be, during the few
days that passed before the funeral took
place, filled poor Charley's mind with
such horror that he determined to es-
-cape from it if possible.
He was to go the funeral and see his

mother laid in the grave, and then be
taken direct to the workhouse; but one
look at the stern parish undertaker fixed
the resolution already formed in his own
mind, and while the attention of the
others was occupied in looking round
them, after the minister had concluded
the service, he slipped away, and ran
with all his might, until he had left the
churchyard far in the distance.


':a :~



HARLEY wandered on, after he
had left his mother's funeral,
he knew not where, until he
was so tired and hungry that he sat
down upon a door-step, and burst into
He was aroused in a few minutes by
a rough-looking man asking him what
was the matter.
"I am so hungry! sobbed Charley.
"Then why don't you go home and
get something to eat?" said the man.
"Because I don't like to go to the
workhouse," said the boy; "and now
mother's dead, there is nowhere else I
can go."

Is your father dead as well, then ?"
asked the man, in a softened tone.
"Yes," sighed Charley.
"Well," said the man, you look a
honest little fellow, suppose you do
something for me, and I'll give you
some food to eat;" and he went into a
baker's shop close by and bought a
twopenny loaf, and gave the boy.
" Now let's see if you can cry potatoes
and greens as loud as I can;" and put-
ting his hand to his mouth, he cried,
with a costermonger's voice, the prices
of the vegetables he carried on his
truck. Then Charley tried, and he
managed to cry the various articles rather
loudly, and quite to the man's satisfac-
tion; so that he offered to take him
with him on his rounds to cry his
goods, for which service the man pro-
mised to keep him in food, clothing, and
lodging. This, Charley thought, would
be far better than the workhouse, and
he joyfully accepted the offer.
Charley's life was soon a widely
different one from that he had hitherto
passed with his gentle mother. His
master, though rough and untutored,

and often given to drinking, was not an
unkind man, and Charley's honest face
and manner had completely won his
heart, so that he was allowed to have
very much his own way, and spent all
the time he was not out with the
truck in playing with the boys in the
Several months passed in this way,
and Charley had become quite expert
in most of the boyish games he had
learned, and likewise an adept in many
of the vices practised by his com-
About this time his master, meeting
with an accident, broke his leg, and
was taken to the hospital. Charley
was thus thrown again upon the world
to seek for the means of a liveli-
SIt was but natural that he should
think of continuing his present mode of
life, and so he applied to several coster-
mongers, but none would have anything
to do with him. He then, by the ad-
vice of another boy, tried to get work
in the market, to hold a horse or do
other odd jobs; but he found there

were already more boys about than
could find employment, and so, after
two or three attempts, he gave this
As he was turning away from the
market, weary, hungry, and dispirited,
he saw a large basket of water-cresses,
and at the same moment heard a
voice from the next street crying
"Water-cresses!" and it at once oc-
curred to him that he, too, might sell
them. But the next moment he
thought that he had no money to buy
the stock to start with; and with a
heavy heart he turned from the tempt-
ing basket, and retraced his steps to
his old haunts-home he had none.
He was now a houseless, homeless
wanderer, with no one to care for, or
pity, or protect him. Something of
this feeling crept into his heart as he
walked along, and the tears rose to his
eyes, and then rolled down his cheeks,
as his thoughts went back to the time
when he was the dear object of his
mother's love; and that last scene of
her life was recalled, and the solemn
charge she had given him, and the

words she had then taught him, "God
is love."
The Testament she had given him he
had still, although his companions had
several times tried to persuade him to
sell it, when he or they wanted money
for any special object. Now the
thought of selling it again recurred to
him as he walked along, and he had
almost resolved to take it into a shop
close by and dispose of it, that he
might have something wherewith to
purchase his water-cresses, when a sud-
den gust of wind swept up the street
and carried off an old gentleman's hat,
which contained a pocket-handkerchief
and several papers. The hat was soon
secured, for it fell at Charley's feet;
and when he had returned it to its
owner, he set off in pursuit of the flying
handkerchief and papers.
"Never mind the handkerchief, but
catch the papers, and I'll give you six-
pence," said the old gentleman. The
words were not lost upon Charley. At
length, after several vain attempts had
been made, he managed to secure them,
and gained the promised reward.

A penny had to be expended in bread,
for he had had nothing to eat that day,
and then with the remaining fivepence
he went back to the market and pur-
chased a small stock of water-cresses.
These, when tied up in small bunches,
and arranged upon a basket-lid, made
a good show; and he started on his
rounds of the different streets and
squares, not a little proud of his posi-
tion as a trader on his own account.
He did not sell all his stock, but
after counting over his money, and put-
ting away fivepence for the next day's
purchase, he found he had threepence
left, with which he bought a good
supper. It was summer-time now, and
since his master had been in the
hospital he had been accustomed to
sleep in an old shed; so that if he could
gain sufficient from day to day to buy
his food, he thought it would be all he
should require; and this he did manage
to do, for he carried water-cresses or
radishes all the summer. But when
the cold nights of autumn came, and
he lay awake half the night shivering
with cold, he began to think what he

must do to pay for a lodging as well as
buy food.
One day proved very wet and
cold, and Charley had had what he
termed a "bad day." He had sold
but very little of his stock, and as he
wearily retraced his way late in the
afternoon, cold, hungry, and miserable,
the thought of a comfortable bed to
sleep in made the tears start to his
eyes, and he took out his money to
count it once more. As he was doing
so he was joined by one of his com-
panions-a boy a little older than him-
Halloa!" said he, "you are late
to-day, and ain't sold out neither."
"No," said Charley, heaving a deep
sigh. "I don't know what to do; I
can't sleep in that shed-it is so cold,
and' I have not got money enough to
pay for a lodging."
Well, I'm just like you," said the
boy. "I was talking to Jem Ryan
this morning, and he says he means
to get some money somewhere, and
without taking much trouble about it.
I know what he meant; but there's the

police, so I don't think I shall try that
What game ?" asked Charley.
Why, stealing was what Jem meant,
I know."
"And yet some of the boys do get
such lots of money," debated Charley.
But the next moment the thought of
his mother and her dying words rushed
to his mind, and the temptation was
"Suppose we go and look for a place
to sleep in," said Tom. I know lots
of corners where we might find a
"All right," replied Charley. I'll
buy some bread. You haven't got any
money, have you ?"
No; nor I ain't had nothing to eat
"Then we'll. go shares," said Char-
ley; and he went into a baker's shop
and bought a loaf, and, breaking it in
halves, gave one part to his companion,
and they then set out in search of a
On their way they were met by a
gentleman, who asked them where

they were going. His question rather
perplexed them; and he, seeing them
hesitate, said, "Remember, boys, God's
eye is upon you !" and without saying
another word he passed on.
"Well, he's a queer old man !" said
Tom, turning to look back after him.
"Whatever did he mean? Do you
know, Charley?"
"Oh yes; he meant God always
sees us,-that's all," answered Charley.
"' God always sees us!'" repeated
Tom. "Who is God ?"
I don't know much," said Charley;
" but mother used to talk to me about
Him; and I used to say my prayers,
which she said was speaking to Him."
"What did you say?" asked Tom,
"I almost forget part of it, but I
know the beginning was, 'Our Father,
which art in heaven,' and 'give us this
day our daily bread.' "
'Our Father,' repeated Tom;
"what can it mean?"
"I don't know; but I know my
mother's gone up to heaven to live with

Well, I only wish somebody would
ask me to go," said Tom, sighing; I
wouldn't mind what it was,-I would do
it to have a father."
"My mother has not been dead
much more than a year," said Char-
ley, "and she gave me this before
she died;" and he drew forth the
treasured Testament out of his pocket,
and taking it out of the paper it
was wrapped in, showed it to his com-
"What does it tell about?" asked
Oh, all sorts of things. It tells
about God our Father," said Charley.
They were now in the neighbourhood
of the Adelphi Arches, by the side of
the river Thames; and Tom, going first,
told Charley to follow him, and they
groped their way into a quiet corner,
where they were at least secure from
the cutting wind and driving rain, and
lay down to rest for the night. Tom
would have resumed the conversation,
for his heart was full of the thought of
God, who lived in heaven, and could
see him always, and he longed to know

more about Him; but Charley was tired*
and sleepy, and, before many minutes
had passed, was soundly asleep, so
that Tom could only lie and ponder what
he had heard, that this God was Our



EVERAL weeks passed, and Tom
and Charley had become close
companions. Tom had succeeded
in picking up a few jobs every day in the
neighbourhood of Covent Garden Mar-
ket, and they usually met every evening
and shared each other's supper, and
passed the night together sometimes,
when their earnings would allow it, at
one of the cheap lodging-houses.
One evening Tom returned from the
market in high spirits, and met Charley
at the appointed place.
"Oh, I say, I have had such a capital
day!" he cried, his eyes beaming with
pleasure and excitement.

"It's more than I have," said Charley,
moodily. "I'm tired of going about for
nothing. I have only took three half-
pence all day."
"Well, I've got a plan that you may
get some more to-night."
"It's Jem Ryan's, I suppose?"
"No, it ain't Jem Ryan's," said Tom,
"it's my own. Look here, you've got
that book what your mother give you,
and you can read it. Now, if you'll read
it a bit to me to-night, I'll pay you
for it. Won't you do it ?" he said,
anxiously, seeing Charley did not make
any reply.
"Not for pay, I won't," said Charley.
"I'll read a bit to you, but I won't take
money for it."
"Well, you'll read us a bit, anyhow,
and I'll buy the supper to-night, and
we'll have a lodging," said Tom.
Charley objected at first, as he could
not pay for his share in these luxuries,
but his companion insisted, and he at
length yielded the point; and after pur-
chasing their supper, they repaired to
a cheap lodging-house, where, placing
themselves in the quietest corner they

could find, Charley took out his Testa-
ment, and asked Tom were he should
Oh, I don't care-anywhere," said
Tom; "but it better be the beginning."
"Yes, I suppose so," said Charley;
and he turned over the leaves, and com-
menced reading the first chapter of
Matthew; but he had only stumbled
over the first few verses, when shutting
it hastily, he cried, "Oh, I can't read
all these hard words."
"Oh, go on, and try the next," said
Tom, "perhaps you'll come to 'Our
Father' presently; that's what I want
to hear about."
"Well, I shall try the next chapter
now," said Charley, and he commenced
reading the second chapter. This was
not so difficult, and he read on to the
end, and then the third and fourth
By this time several others, who were
idling about the room when the boys
entered, had drawn nearer, attracted to
listen by the clear, pleasant voice of the
reader, as well as by the unwonted
novelty of the scene. When he left off,

one or two of these asked him where
he had got the book from; and a close
observer might have noticed a tear in
the eyes of a young man who had sat
next to Tom, listening with earnest in-
terest to every word as it fell from
Charley's lips.
To Tom's untutored mind, the words
of the Testament were wonderful, but
a feeling of disappointment was the
strongest. The yearning of his heart
had not been satisfied-he had not heard
one word about Our Father," and
with this longing increased by what he
had heard of the (to him) unknown God,
he was obliged to go to bed.
"I say, you'll read some more to-
morrow night, won't you, Charley?" he
said, just before he went to sleep.
"Yes; I have promised that tall fellow
that sat next to you to come again to-
morrow; he will pay my lodging, he
says, if I come."
Accordingly, the next night the read-
ing was resumed, and, to Tom's great
joy, he heard for the first time of a
Father in heaven. Charley read to the
end of the sixth chapter.

Tom's heart was brimful of thoughts
about this "Father in heaven," and he
put question after question to Charley,
in his anxiety to know and understand
more of the wonderful truths he had
heard. But Charley could not tell him
much beyond the text he had been
taught by his mother, at the same time
that she told him always to say his
"' God is love,'" repeated Tom, rever-
ently. Was that all she told you ? I
wish," he added, "you'd teach me 'Our
"I have almost forgot it, myself," said
Charley, colouring; "but I will learn it
to-morrow, and then, if you like, I will
teach you. But," he added, "you are
not going to begin saying prayers, are
you ?"
"Mayn't I, as nobody didn't ever ask
me to go to heaven?" he said, sadly.
Oh, I dare say you may," said
Charley; "but you'll be sure to forget
it half the time."
"Well, I'll try it," said Tom. "You
said it was speaking to God, saying' Our
Father,' and I shouldn't think anybody

would forget that-not if they hadn't
never had none. I wish somebody could
tell me whether I may do this, and
whether He'll hear what I say."
"Well, I'm going to sleep now," said
Charley, whose conscience was begin-
ning to make him uneasy; and he turned
round, and was soon asleep. But Tom
could not close his eyes for some time:
he lay pondering the matter, and won-
dering whether there was any chance of
his prayers being heard, and whether
God would ever be his Father.
For several weeks Charley continued
his readings at the lodging-house, and
Tom began to understand a little more
of divine truth, although it was, as yet,
but a twilight glimmer that shone upon
the darkness and ignorance of his mind.
But he had recently discovered that a
man was in the habit of preaching, out
of doors, about the very same things
Charley's Testament told about; and he
resolved to go every Sunday afternoon
and listen to all that was said. This hv
did, and not one among the crowd that
stood to hear the missionary preach the
glad tidings of salvation, listened with

such earnest and devout attention as
the poor, ragged, barefooted Tom.
One Sunday, in the spring, he per-
suaded Charley to go with him, when
just as the crowd was dispersing, whom
should they see but their former com-
panion, Jem Ryan, so neatly dressed
that they scarcely recognized him.
"Halloa, you two lads!" he said, com-
ing up to them; "what have you been
doing here? You look as though you
were pretty nearly starved."
"We are hungry, indeed," said Char-
ley; "we ain't had a bit to eat to-day."
"Well, you are a couple of milksops
to go without, when there's plenty to be
had for taking. Just look here," he said,
drawing them aside, this is one after-
noon's work;" and he took a handful of
silyer from his pocket, as he spoke, and
shook it.
"Oh, I wish I had some of that! was
Charley's sudden cry.
"Then why don't you get it ? You've
got the same chance that I have."
Charley was so hungry and faint, and
one of those pieces of money, so lightly
jingled by his former companion, would

relieve all his necessities. The tempta-
tion again returned to join Jem Ryan
in his dishonest practices; and again
conscience spoke, and reminded him of
his mother's words. But, alas! Charley
had almost ceased to listen to the voice
of conscience, so that it did not now
speak so loudly as it once did, and
therefore it was more easily silenced.
The struggle that took place in his
mind, as he thought over Jem Ryan's
words, was not a very long or severe
one; and when, a minute or two after-
wards, Jem said, "Well, now, will you
go with me and share my luck ? ",his
decision was made, and he answer*
quickly, "Yes, I will."



OM tried every argument to per-
suade Charley not to go with
Jem Ryan; while Jem, on his
part, promised him all sorts of good
things, and pictured in glowing lan-
guage the ease and comfort in which
he and his companions lived. These
tempting prospects were too much for
Charley to resist altogether; but he
at length found an opportunity to tell
Tom what he had made up his mind
to do.
Look here," he said; I mean to
come back and read the Testament to
you in a week or two. I will just go
with him for a little while, and get a

lot of money, and then I will come
to you and start again in the old
Perhaps if Tom had been wiser, he
would have known that a path of sin
once entered upon is rarely left, and he
would not have trusted to Charley's
word as he did; for after the second
week of his departure had passed, he
began to look for his return, and went
again and again to the old meeting-
place in expectation of seeing him.
But his hopes were always disappointed;
no Charley ever appeared.
Tom had by this time again succeeded
in getting work about the market, and
had contrived, by dint of great care,
to buy himself a second-hand suit of
clothes, so that he presented a much
more decent appearance. The men
about the market, finding he was honest,
and could be trusted to take care of
their goods, preferred employing him
to any other boys; and they paid him
so well, that at length he began seri-
ously to contemplate looking out for a
fixed lodging.
Meanwhile, he continued to attend


regularly the preaching of the mission-
ary, and from him had learned that he
might kneel and say "Our Father"
with a certainty of being heard and
accepted; and the thought of having a
Father in heaven-he, the untaught,
uncared-for runaway workhouse-boy-
often cheered him in his hours of dis-
appointment, when, after his work in
the market was over, he wandered to
the old meeting-places, one after an-
other, in the faint hope of seeing
Charley once more. He had not met
with any one since who could read to
him as Charley had done; and as he
could not read for himself, he had not
heard much of God's Word lately;
but the seed that had been sown was
"the incorruptible seed of the Word
of Life," and it was working in his
heart to bring forth fruit to the glory of
As autumn returned, he determined
to carry out the plan he had formed,
and look out for a lodging in some poor
but decent family. He had never
known what it was to have a home,
but his heart yearned for one, although

he knew not that it was this inborn
feeling-this longing for the sacred rest
of home-that made him look envi-
ously at those houses where the fire-
light glowed upon the curtains, and the
cheerful candle or gaslight gleamed be-
tween the cracks of the shutters, and
made his eyes fill with tears when he
peered curiously in at a half-opened
door, and the door was shut, leaving
him on the outside. Then the thought
that there was no one in the world who
cared for him-that no one was expect-
ing him to come home after his work was
over, made him feel almost miserable.
It was only the thought of the Great
Father in heaven who cared for him
that could comfort him at these times.
He, however, set forth from the
market one Monday evening, deter-
mining to persevere until he should
discover what he was in search of.
This he found was not likely to be
so easy as he had at first imagined.
He went up one street and down an-
other, and was almost tired with his
fruitless walk, and not a little disap.
pointed at the many rebuffs he had me,

with, when he was suddenly and rudely
pushed against by a young man, who
staggered backwards; and then Tom
saw it was the same who had so often
sat next to him at the lodging-house,
listening to Charley's reading. They
looked at each other for a moment, as
if scarcely knowing whether to speak
or not. At length he elder one said,
"Where's that fair boy that used to
be with you?"
"I don't know," said Tom. "He
went off three or four months ago, and
I have not seen him since."
A shade of disappointment passed
over the young man's face as Tom said
this, and he asked where he had gone.
"I don't know," repeated Tom; I
only wish he would come back."
"You've been getting on lately, I
should think," he said, glancing at
Tom's clothes. Tom made no reply,
but he thought he could not say the
same in return, for the youth looked
pinched with want. Tom asked if he
could tell him where he thought it
likely he could get a lodging.

Do you want it for yourself ?"
Yes," replied Tom. I manage to
pick up a good bit now, one way and
another, so I want to get a place to go
to of nights, regular."
What do you do?" asked the young
man, curiously.
Oh, anything I am told to. I
always go to one place now, and there
is always lots of jobs ready for me-
sometimes to look after the horses, or
mind a few lots of things; sometimes a
few things are given me to sell for my-
self, so I can afford to pay a little for
a lodging, if I can find one."
And you never play any dishonest
games ?"
This was put as a question.
No," answered Tom, quickly and
decisively. "I never did care much
about trying that, and I don't want to
begin now."
You don't know what misery you
have escaped by not beginning," said
the young man, with a deep sigh; but
I can tell you that it is almost next to
impossible to leave off when once you
have begun."

Where do you live ?" asked Tom.
"Only in the next street. I was
brought very low by weeks of sickness,
and in my poverty I had to seek a home
in the lodging-house; but I am not so
weak as I was. I have bought a few
things with the money I have earned,
and hired a room; but I am afraid I
shall have to give it up before long: I
cannot pay the rent."
They were walking in the direction
pointed out, and Tom was revolving a
plan in his own mind, about which he
scarcely knew what to do. It was a
proposal to share this young man's
lodging; and yet he scarcely liked to
propose it to him, for he felt, in spite of
what had been told him, that he did, or
ought to, belong to a higher class in
the world. He reminded him of Charley
very much, and yet he could scarcely
make out how or why.
At length they reached the door of
the house, and it became necessary that
Tom should mention his plan, if ever it
was to be done at all; but his courage
failed him at the last moment, and he
said "good-night," in renly to his com-

panion, who went in immediately, and
closed the door after him. But that
simple action revived all Tom's lately-
cherished longings for a home and rest-
ing-place, and nerved him with courage
to knock before he scarcely knew what
he was about. The door was opened
by his late companion, who had not
gone many steps from it.
"Oh, if you please, I thought-"
stammered Tom, perhaps you would
let me come and be your lodger. But,"
he added, I will go somewhere else
if you think I shan't suit."
"I should not be afraid of that, for I
believe you are an honest boy; but I
am afraid my lodging would not suit
you. However, you can come and see
it, if you like," he added.
Tom followed his guide upstairs to
a little back-room on the first floor.
All the furniture it contained was a
small bedstead-on which lay a mat-
tress and a few bed-clothes-a table,
and a chair; and on a shelf, in the cor-
ner, stood a single cup and saucer and
plate; but the room, and everything it
contained, was very clean.

Is this all yours ?" said Tom, after
he had surveyed it a moment in silence.
"How much shall I have to pay
I must speak to my landlady about
it first, before it is all settled ; but
if you think you can make your-
self comfortable here, I shall be very
Oh, it's a first-rate place, I think;
and all to yourself, too."
I find it very dull, sometimes."
Oh, but there will be two of us, if I
After some further conversation, it
was settled that Tom should share this
room, if the landlady had no objection;
and she being quite willing that the
" poor, quiet young man should have
a companion to cheer him in some of
his solitary hours, Tom took up his
abode there at once.
"We will have some supper, first
thing," said Tom, after these arrange.
ments had been made. His companion
coloured slightly, and stammered out
something about not taking suppers.
Oh, but you'll have some to-night

with me," said Tom, taking up his cap,
and he went out to make some pur-
chases, for he had suffered the pangs
of hunger too many times himself not
to understand what was the cause
of his companion's pale, thin appear-
He soon returned, completely loaded,
for he brought coals and wood, bread
and meat, besides several articles placed
in his pockets.
There he said, dropping the bag
of coals on the hearth, his face beam-
ing with satisfaction. His companion
stared with dumb surprise, and Tom
saw two tears gather in his eyes as he
grasped his'hand, and said, hoarsely,
"Thank you "
Oh, it's I have got to thank
you," said Tom. "'I've never had
a place like this to come to before.
I've often wished I had, when I've
seen the other boys going home from
the market when they had done their
"And do you think this will seem
like home to you ? "
"Oh, won't it just said Tom,

fervently. I shall be wishing for the
evening. There, now, that is a good
blaze," he said, sitting down in front of
the fire.
You have never asked me what my
name is," said his companion; and
I do not know yours."
"Well, mine's Tom-Tom Rivers;
but nobody ever calls me anything but
"And you must call me Frank-
Frank Barton," said his companion.
"And I may call you Frank?" said
Tom, questioningly.
Yes, certainly; why not ?"
Oh, I did not know," faltered Tom.
"I thought, perhaps, you were Mr.
The young man's cheeks turned
crimson as Tom said this, and an
expression of pain passed over his
face, as he answered, evasively, "Well,
perhaps I ought to be; and in
order to divert his companion's atten-
tion, he commenced making prepara-
tions for cooking the steak Tom had
It was many days since poor Frank

had tasted meat, and Tom could not
help noticing the keen relish with which
he ate it; and the kind-hearted boy
took care to eat the piece he had taken
on his own plate very slowly, that his
more hungry companion might have
the larger share.



HE next morning, when Tom
awoke, he saw, to his great as-
tonishment, that Frank was
already up, and busily engaged in writ-
What are you doing ? was his first
"At work," replied Frank, smiling at
the boy's astonished looks.
Do you call that work ? said Tom,
slipping out of bed.
"Yes, and very hard work, to sit at
it as many hours as I have to do."
But I should think you got heaps
of money for doing such beautiful writ-
ing as that," said Tom, gazing with

admiration upon the written parch-
I get very little," said Frank, with
a sigh; "and sometimes I suffer so
much from a pain in my side, that I
cannot sit at it long, and that makes
it still worse."
Don't I wish I could write said
Can't you ? said Frank.
No; nor can I read," replied Tom,
Well, you soon shall, if you have a
mind to try. I will teach you in the
evening, after you come home from
Will you, though?" said Tom, glee-
fully. "Well, I am a lucky fellow, after
all, I believe. Now let us have some
breakfast, and then I must be off."
"What time do you come home ? "
asked Frank; "because I will have
some tea ready. I shall be paid for this
writing I am doing to-day, I expect."
It don't matter if you are not,"
said Tom; "I have got some more
money. I shall be home about six,"
he added.

It is not to be wondered at if Tom
did hold up his head and walk with an
independent step as he went to the
market that morning. He felt proud
of his new position-of his newly-
acquired home; the thought of it lay
warm at his heart all day. And Frank
had asked him what time he should be
home! There was somebody expecting
his return now, and the kettle was to
be boiled by a certain time, because he
was going home then.
Several of the men about the market
noticed how bright and cheerful Tom
looked, and the jobs they gave him to
do were done so briskly, and with such
alacrity, that he got several extra ones
from people he had never served before;
and this, of course, swelled his returns,
so that when he counted his money
before leaving the market, he found
that he had taken more than ever he
had in a single day before.
"We will have a good tea," said Tom,
half aloud; and I can afford to spend
sixpence of this." He was standing
opposite a second-hand book-stall as he
said this, and he heard the boy who had

charge of the books,- say, No, sir, I
cannot take fourpence; the price is six-
pence, and a handsome Testament like
this is worth a shilling."
Tom turned, and looked at the book
the boy still held in his hand, while the
man who had offered fourpence for it,
passed on.
How much do you want for that
book ? he said, carelessly.
"Sixpence," replied the boy.
I will have it, then," said Tom,
eagerly clutching the book, and handing
him the sixpence. He opened it in-
stantly, and looked at the fly-leaf, and,
although he could not read, recognized
it as being Charley's Testament.
"Look here," he said, when he
reached home; I have bought a book,
and I want you to read a bit of it after
"What sort of a book is it ?"
"A Testament," replied Tom; "and
I am pretty sure it's Charley's, too."
Who is Charley ? That fair boy
that used to be with you at the lodging-
house ?"
"Yes," answered Tom; and I guess

he has not found stealing such profitable
work after all, or else he would not have
sold his mother's Testament."
Was it his mother's ? asked Frank.
"Yes," replied Tom; "he told me
she gave it to him before she died, and
her name was written in it. Look here,
and see if it is not Mrs. Hope' on the
Frank took the book, but could
scarcely believe the evidence of his
senses as he read, "Emily Morton.
The gift of her brother Frank." He
turned pale, the book almost dropped
from his hands, while Tom sat and
gazed in wonder at the effect the sight
of the Testament had produced on his
What is it ?" he asked, at length.
Did you say this book belonged to
that boy's mother ? cried Frank.
"Yes," answered Tom; "isn't her
name in it? "
What was her name ? asked Frank,
Hope,-leastways Charley's was;
and I know that was his book."
"How do you know? asked Frank.

"By this picture of two hearts,"
said Tom, pointing to a very well-
executed pen-and-ink drawing under-
neath the name.
Frank gazed at it until the tears
filled his eyes, and, dropping the book
upon his knees, he sobbed like a child.
After a few minutes he subdued his
emotion, and said, Where is Charley
now ? "
I don't know," replied Tom.
At length Frank said, suddenly, "Do
you know, this was mine once; I bought
it for a birthday present for my sister,
and wrote her name in it; and again
he murmured, "Emily Morton. The
gift of her brother Frank."
Then was Charley Hope's mother
your sister ?" asked Tom.
She must have been," replied Frank;
"but I left home long before she was
married. I will tell vou more about
myself another time," .. added. "Will
you let me buy this booK of you ? he
asked, eagerly.
No; I will give it you and welcome,"
said Tom, "if you'll only promise to
read a bit to me every night."

"I promise that willingly," said
Frank, "and thank you most heartily for
this precious gift. But now I must try
and find this Charley Hope-my sister's
child; if I can only rescue him from an
evil course, it will be something worth
living for."
But how do you mean to manage
to look for him ?" said Tom.
Oh, we will go out sometimes of an
evening after dark, and wait about near
some of the places where he is likely to
be found."
After tea, Tom commenced his first
reading-lesson, by learning the letters
on the top of an' old newspaper. The
next day he bought a twopenny spelling-
book, and tried to penetrate still further
the mysteries of A B C; but he found it
was very slow work. But, happily, Tom
was not one to give up trying on account
of a few difficulties, and so in a veryshort
time the alphabet was mastered, and he
began to learn simple words. After this
time he made rapid progress, although
it was many months before he reached
the height of his ambition, which was
to read in the Testament correctly.

During these months, most diligent
search was made for Charley, but in
vain. They ventured to make inquiries,
once or twice, but no one had ever
heard of or seen him; and at length
the search had to be given up, at least
by Frank, for his health began to fail,
and he was unable to walk any great
distance on account of the pain in his
side and shortness of breath.
His work of copying, too, progressed
very slowly, and if it had not been for
Tom, he must have sunk for want.
Tom had, during these months, continued
steadily at his post in the market, and
was able, with care and economy, not
only to support himself, but also help
One day, when he returned from
the market, instead of finding the tea
ready as usual, Frank was lying on the
floor, as though he were dead. Some
copying was on the table, and a pen
lay near him on the floor, as if he
had fallen down while crossing the
room. Tom uttered a short scream,
and, lifting his head up, spoke to him;
but no answer was returned, and in a

great fright he ran and brought the
"Ah, poor fellow!" she cried, "he
is not long for this world. I expect he
sat at that writing till he could not sit
any longer, and then dropped down
here. I fear he will never ,get well
By this time the invalid had been
lifted on to the bed, and, languidly
opening his eyes, fixed them on Tom.
"Are you better now?" said the
woman, with much feeling.
"Yes, thank you," replied Frank,
feebly. "Tom will get me some tea
presently, and then I shall be all

-r- .*



oM set to work and got the tea
ready; but the recollection of
what the landlady had said
took away all his appetite.
"Why, what's the matter, Tom, that
you do not eat anything?" said Frank,
who was better now, and able to sit
"I do not feel hungry," said Tom,
looking earnestly at his companion;
and presently he added, "You never
told me you were ill. Mrs. Rush says
you have consumption. Have you?"
he asked, anxiously.
"Yes, I am afraid so," said Frank;
"but I did not want you to know it

just yet, for I shall be able to work a
little longer, I hope, and-and-" he
hesitated-" see Cha:rle: before I die,"
he added.
"0 Frank! you are not going to
die yet awhile!" said Tom, scarcely
restraining his tears. "You must get
well, and take care of Charley, when we
find him."
For a little while, I hope," said
Frank; "it will not be for long-at
least for me."
Oh, you feel mopish this evening;
you will not think like that when you
get quite well again," said Tom, trying:
to 5p',:: cheerfully.
"No, Tom; doctors cannot do me
any good now. I have seen one; and
I know there is no hope."
"Did he say there was no hope?"
said Tom, anxiously.
He as good as told me so," replied
Flank, \h1en I pressed him to tell me
what he thought. You must not let
this grieve you, Tom; and remember,
when I am gone, that you have been a
great blessing to me-next to my sitc r
Emily, the greatest I have ever had.

You have taught me to know God, and
to love this precious Testament for the
sake of the words of life it contains, as
well as for the sake of my sister. She
is in heaven now, and will soon wel-
come her prodigal brother Frank. After
I am dead-if we do not find Charley
before-I want you to keep this book
for him, and tell him it guided his
uncle's feet 'into the way of peace;'
and beg him to break from evil com-
pany, and make this book the guide
of his life, or we shall never meet in
But are you quite sure that Charley
is your sister's child ?" said Tom.
"Yes, I feel certain of it," replied
Frank; "especially since I found a
small curl of light hair between the
leaves of this book: that was my
sister's hair, I am sure."
How old were you when you saw
her last ?" asked Tom.
"Not more than twelve," replied
Frank. "Emily was about sixteen.
I ran away from home. I came to
London, and got along for a few weeks
pretty well, until my money and clothes

were all gone. I then got some work
as a copying-clerk; but j]r; I. h,'
sitting have broken down my health,
and I was at last glad to take up a
1i.-,rie at thei 1l::; .i r ;-house where I met
with you and Charley. His a;.p,:ar:.inc
caught my attention first; it seemed to
revive memories of home and of my
long-lost sister; and I listened to what
he was reading for the sake of hearing
the pleasant tones of his voice, which
so strangely called to my memory days
long gone by. I do not wonder at it
now, he was so like his mother; but
then he seemed to me like a being from
another world, and I was compelled to
listen to what he was reading. ,God
made him the means of good to me, for
it was through his reading that I deter-
mined to leave my worldly companions.
Ask God to give you the grace of His
Holy Spirit that you may be kept from
evil ways; and if C har.Il ever comes
back, tell him to do the same. Poor
boy I wonder where he is now, and
how it was he came to part with his
mother's Testament !"
I am afraid he must have been in

great trouble to have done that," said
Tom, for he said he would never
do it."
"Poor Emily! she little thought
when she gave it to him that it would
be so blessed to another, and that other
her brother Frank, from whom she
received it."

Weeks passed, and Frank gradually
grew weaker and weaker, until at length
his work of copying had to be given
up entirely, and he was compelled to
keep his bed. It was a hard struggle
then for Tom to earn sufficient to
support them both, but he steadily
refused to let Frank go to the poor-
"No," he said; "you are the only
friend I ever had, and I will work for
you while I can, and God will help us."
And God did help them in many ways:
at one time, by sending a kind lady to
their assistance, who gave Frank many
little comforts his delicate health made
necessary. But the greatest help of
all came from a singular old man, who
had often employed Tom in the market,

and who never seemed so happy as
when he was rLii.lmllinl, at somebody.
No matter how well the work was done,
the only response he gave was a gruff
" Humph it is not done so well but it
might have been done better." Now,
Tom had learned to understand the
old man. Consequently he took no
"notice of his strange, uncivil ways,
and never answered him again, as all
the other boys he ever I.ni-'l.:..r:d had
One day the old man had, as usual,
been grumbling and scolding, and Tom,
whose patience was well-nigh exhausted,
was just about to answer him saucily,
when th.- man suddenly broke off and
cried, "Why don't you answer me,
boy? The whole race of you are a
saucy lot. .Why don't. you do as the
rest have done before ? Afraid of losing
the work, is that it ?"
Yes," answered Tom; "I want
to get all and keep all the work I
"To spend the money at the penny
concert-room at night, I suppose?"
said i\lr. Blunt.

"I never go to such a place," said
Tom; "I have got something else to
do with my money. I have to keep
myself and some one else out of what
I get."
Keep another!" repeated Mr. Blunt.
" Why can't he keep himself?"
He did as long as he could, but he
is ill now," replied Tom.
"Then he should go to the union;
that is the place for sick folks."
"He wants to go, but I won't let
him, so long as I can work and keep
him out."
"You keep him, indeed !" said the
old man. "And how do you manage,
pray ? Does he have a doctor?"
"Yes; the parish doctor comes to
see him, and sometimes gives him a
ticket for some meat, and I fetch the
medicine, and nurse him after I go
home from work."
"And you expect me to believe this
tale, do you ?" said the man.
I have never told a lie, sir said
Tom, indignantly.
"Well, I'll only ask one more ques-
tion, and mind you tell the truth about

64 CHIARLEY HOPE'S r7 r: i\I :; T.
that, whatever you may. have done
before: Where do you live ?"
Tom gave him the address of their
lodging, and the old man, with his
usual gruff" Hmi i. ph !" put it down in
his pocket-book, and, having paid Tom
for minding his goods, he walked on.

69 _.- 0 ,: _

.^4' "-.r

27,' "" L ^ '"
7 '.,- ,, ' .. _=
__--- .". ., -,:: : '&v,.,



ENEATH the rough exterior of Mr.
Blunt, was a warm, generous
heart. He had long noticed
and admired Tom's steady behaviour,
and especially the patience with which
he had borne his own crabbed tem-
per, and had at last resolved to do
something to benefit the lad; and what
Tom had this morning told him only
strengthened his resolution. But he
determined, before doing anything, to
ascertain the truth of the statement;
not that he had much doubt about it,
but more to find out the character of
his companion, and the people among
whom he was living.

Accordingly, that afternoon he called
upon Mrs. Rush, and made many in-
quiries of her as to the character of
Tom and his friend. The woman was
loud in their praise, and pressed the old
man to go up and see Frank.
After some hesitation, he consented
to do this, but first made Mrs. Rush
promise that she would say nothing to
either of t1.: iiilrii- he had made, at
least for the present. He then followed
her up a dark, narrow staircase leading
to Frank's room, and, after placing a
chair for him at the bedside of ihe in-
valid, she went down and left them
together by themselves. Mr. Blunt
took the seat placed for him, feeling
very awkward and uncomfortable; it
was altogether such a new position for
him to be in, so different from his daily
calling in the market, that he stam-
mered, and knew not what to say when
Frank bent a look of inquilr upon
At length he luii-.t fourth in his usual
rough fashion. I suppose you want
to know what I have come here for ?
Well, I heard you was ill, and I

thought I would like to come and see
"Thank you," said Frank; "I am
glad of a visitor, as I lie all day by
myself up here."
"Well, why don't you have .some-
body to come and stop with you ?"
"I cannot, sir; I have no friends,
only a poor boy who lives with me; and
he has to go out all day to work for our
living, for he keeps me now as well as
himself. I have wanted to go to the
poorhouse several times, but he will not
hear of it. He says God will help us to
keep together; and He will, I believe."
Why, do you think God ever takes
notice of such little things as that? "
asked Mr. Blunt, in some astonishment.
Oh yes, sir! I am sure He does,"
replied Frank, quickly. He has helped
us a good many times, and He will
again, if we want it, I am certain."
And is that your religion, young
man ?"
"Yes," replied Frank; for I've
learned to know that God is my Father
as well as my Maker, and a father
always takes care of his children."

"Well, well, there may be some
truth in what you say. But tell me
now, don't you feel very miserable at
having to lie here all day, not able to
work for your own living, but obliged to
be beholden to a boy to work for
So it would, sir, but for this book,"
and he took up his Testament; "but I
have learned from this to know that
God loves us even though He afflicts us.
He has given the highest proof of His
love in' the gift of His Son, Jesus
Christ, who came into the world to
save sinners, even the chief. And He
has promised to make all things work
together for good to those who love
Him, and these thoughts make me
willing to lie here."
Well, it must be a wonderful book
that can do all this for you," said the
old man, taking up the Testament and
looking at it curiously. "I have a
great mind to buy one, and read it
for myself. Not that I am going to
be ill or die yet awhile," he, added,
This is a book to be read when we

are well, quite as much as when we are
ill," said Frank.
You think so ?" said the old man.
I am sure of it," said Frank.
Well, I don't suppose it will make
any difference, or that I shall die any
sooner for reading that, than I shall for
having made my will. But now tell
me who this boy is that keeps you, or
starves you, whichever it is."
There is more danger of him starv-
ing himself," said Frank, smiling.
"His name is Tom Rivers, and he
works at-Covent-Garden Market."
Is he steady ?"
Yes, sir, that he is, and very indus-
trious, too; for after he has been at
the market all day, he will come home
and clean this room and fetch the
little errands, and do everything for
"Well, I shall come and see you
again by-and-by," said the old man;
and with his usual scant ceremony he
abruptly left the room.
After tea that evening, while Tom
was clearing up the room, Mrs. Rush
came to say that Frank's visitor of the

afternoon had called again, and wanted
to come upstairs.
I forgot to tell you, Tom, that I had
an old gentleman to see me this after-
noon," said Frank.
"Who was it?" asked Tom, but
before the question could be answered,
Mr. Blunt stepped into the room. To
describe Tom's ast.:.tci hIrnl.nt, when he
turned and surveyed their visitor, would
be impossible, and the old man was so
amused at the boy's look of surprise,
that he burst into a hearty laugh.
I have not come to see you," he
said; "I can see you any day. I've
come to brinr, this poor young man a
few. gc.djics;" a' nd, as he spoke, he laid
a laire parcel on the table, and telling
To'(m to come to him first in the morning,
tool; hisi departure.
"Well, he is a strange man!" said
Tom, as soon as he hctrdl the street
d':'ir close ; after telling me this
ir' ,rning he did not I:blice a word I
said. to come here this evening and
bring us something. I wonder what it
is ?" he added, beginning to untie the

"Oh, here's a sight! Look here,
Frank !" and Tom's eyes glistened with
delight as he lifted out a basin contain-
ing some calves'-foot jelly and a piece
of beef for making beef-tea. Tom had
not been forgotten when the parcel was
made up, for there were tea and sugar,
and a piece of mutton, which would last
for several days.
0 Frank we never had anything
so good as this before," said Tom, sur-
veying the whole as it lay upon the
"And it has come just at the right
time, too, has it not ?" said Frank. I
have been longing for a cup of tea all
day-real tea, I mean; there's no good-
ness in the stale tea-leaves we have
used so many times."
Well, you shall have a cup now,"
said Tom, proceeding to rake together
the few lighted embers in the grate, and
fill up the tea-kettle again. We will
have a first-rate supper to-night, and
to-morrow I will ask Mrs. Rush aboul
cooking all this meat."
When Tom cleared the things off tht
table he found a small parcel, tied up

with a string, and on opening it two
half-crowns fell out.
"'Why, there is no end to our good
fortune to-night!" he cried, picking
them up, and showing them to Frank.
" Now we can pay Mrs. Rush the three
shillings we owe her, and buy some
coals and bread, without touching my
money at all."
God has sent us these things," said
Well, didn't I say He would take
care of us?" said Tom. I knew He
would, for I have read it s. inm\hI'.: in
Charley's Testament about 'casting all
your care upon him, for he careth for
you.' "

_. .:




HE next morning Tom went
earlier than usual to the market,
in order to have an opportunity
of thanking Mr. Blunt before the busi-
ness of the day commenced.
The old man was standing near a
well-filled hand-truck, or barrow, when
Tom came up, and commenced the
speech he had been thinking of all the
morning; but he quickly cut it short by
the usual Humph !" and a muttering
about proving his gratitude by deeds.
"I will, sir, if I can," said Tom,
Then do it by taking this barrow
round, and selling all out before night,"

said Mr. Blunt. Tom stared, scarcely
understanding what was meant.
Don't stand-staring like an idiot !"
said the old man. You have sold
things in the street before, haven't you?"
Yes, sir," answered Tom, but not
such things as these. I have cnl!il sold
water-cresses, and radishes, and onions."
"Then pray why cannot you sell
other vegetables ? Is it because the
truck is too heavy for you?"
No, sir; I can push that well,
Then push away, and sell all out,
if you can, before I leave the market."
And without waiting for any further
parleying on the subject, the old man
sauntered away to look for another boy
to do Tom's usual work. Tom scarcely
knew whether to be pleased or dis-
satisfied with this change of labour;
and as he slowly pushed the rather
heavily-laden truck along, he wished
he could run in and tell Frank of what
had taken place.
"And I might do it too," he said to
"himself, and sell a few things into the
barg:tin;" and then, for the first time,

he remembered that he had not looked
over the barrow to see what things to
cry, nor had he asked the prices at
which the various articles were to be
sold. He began his look at the con-
tents, and when he had done it, did not
wonder at the barrow being heavy.
There were two sorts of potatoes, and
weights and scales-and with the latter
a list of the prices at which all the
things were to be sold-greens, turnips,
and carrots, early spring onions, lettuces,
and radishes, besides a good supply of
wallflowers and daffodils, tied up in
bunches. The flowers much pleased
him, and he dropped a penny into the
bag he found placed for the money, in
payment for a bunch of wallflowers he
resolved to take to Frank. On his way,
he had one or two customers, and
several promised to deal with him if he
came that way every morning, and
always had fresh vegetables.
Frank was as much puzzled as Tom
himself, when he heard the history, but
advised him to say nothing to Mr. Blunt
at first, even if he did not feel quite to
like his labour, and had to work a little

harder for his money. For I dare say
he will pay you as much for going
round with his truck as you would earn
from one and another about the market,"
he said, as Tom was leaving.
"I should think he would," replied
Tom; and I will do as you say. If I
do have to work a little harder, it will
not hurt me, and he has been very kind
to us."
He had sold all out but a few potatoes
by the end of the afternoon, and with
a light heart, as well as a lightened
barrow, he returned to the market.
"You have done well for the first
time," said Mr. Blunt, when he saw the
empty truck. Now, then, let us have
a settlement. How much money have
you taken ? "
Here it is, sir: I have not touched
it," said Tom; and he took the money-
bag out of the basket, and handed it to
Mr. Blunt.
"Now, my boy, I will tell you what
my plan is, and you can do as you like
about following it. I will give you the
things you took out this morning, and
you shall pay me sixpence a-week for

the truck until you have paid what I
gave for it, and then it shall be yours ;
and you can go out every day, now you
have once begun, and do a little business
on your own account. Will this plan
suit you ? Why don't you speak, boy ?
You have not lost your tongue, have
you ? because, if that is the case, you
won't do well at selling."
No, sir," said Tom, at length; but
I do not know what to say to thank
Then do not say anything, but just
go off home, and look after that sick
young man, as soon as you have put up
your barrow along with my carts.
Here, take your money: I have counted
it over, and find it is all right."
With another vain attempt at thanks,
Tom took the money, and after cleaning
his barrow, put it up with Mr. Blunt's
carts and waggons, and then set off
What is the matter ?" cried Frank,
raising himself in bed, as Tom rushed
into the room.
Tom held up the money-bag, and
hook it.

"What is it? whose is it?" said
Mine, all mine-at least, that is, to
buy things to go round with to-morrow.
Mr. Blunt has started me on my
own account, and he says he thinks I
shall do well; and I am to pay him
sixpence a-week for the truck, and he is
going to take care of it for me." And
Tom was obliged to stop then to take
breath, before he could say any more.
God is good to you-to us, I mean,"
said Frank. "We have had hard-times
this winter, but thank God for keeping
us honest."
Ah it was a trial sometimes," said
Tom. I have felt very near thinking
God's word could not be true, when we
have been cold and hungry,.and you ill,
too. I don't deserve that God should
be so good to me now, and I wonder
how He can be."
If we all got what we deserve,"
replied Frank, "and no more than
we deserve, I am afraid we should all
of us be very badly off; but we must not
forget that God is our Father. I do not
think we ever think enough about that.

We think of Him as being wise and
good, but quite forget that He loves us,
and therefore gives us things we do not
deserve, just because He loves us. We
did not deserve that Jesus should die
for us, and yet God gave Him up to
suffering and to death, just because He
loved us so much, and that we, through
faith in Him, might be saved."

;^~t --.



OM succeeded in getting many
customers, for people soon
learned that his word was to be
depended upon at all times; then his
vegetables were always fresh and good,
so that many liked to deal with him;
and he was so civil and obliging. He
always took care, when counting over
his money at night, to put by a sum for
purchasing a fresh supply of goods for
the morning. But even when this was
done, he found he had a great deal
more left than he could have earned by
holding horses and doing odd jobs
about the market, and he was able to get
Frank many little comforts he needed.

Poor Frank appeared to be sinking
fast now. The doctor said he might
live through the summer, but the first
cold winds of autumn would probably
take him off. He had one wish as yet
ungratified, and that was to see Charley
before he died.
If I could only see him, and tell him
to think of his mother, and read her
Testament, I could die happy," he said
one day to Tom.
"I do wish we could find him," said
Tom, heaving a deep sigh. "I think
I will begin to look after him again
Accordingly, he went out that even-
ing and recommended the search, but
all in vain. Summer began to melt
into the yellow tints of autumn, and
Frank became so weak, that Tom gave
up the search for Charley to sit by his
bedside during all his leisure hours.
"Tom," he said, one evening, "I
have given up the last thing to-day. I
can say 'Thy will be done' now, even
though I should not see Charley before
I die. I know it will be all right at
last, and I hope to see him in heaven.

I can wait till then. You will give him
the Testament, and tell him it led me to
Jesus my Saviour, and ask him to read
it every day." He was prevented from
saying any more by a violent fit of
coughing. Promise you will do this
for me, and be a friend to Charley," he
murmured, after he had recovered a
little from this.
"I promise willingly," said Tom,
"for it was Charley first taught me to
know anything about God; and it was
through hearing him read the Testa-
ment that I learned I had a Father in
heaven, though nobody in this world
cared for me."
The next day proved wet and cold,
and as Tom was returning in the after-
noon to the market with his barrow,.
his attention was attracted by the
owner of the bookstall where he had
bought the Testament, saying, in a
sharp voice, to a poor object standing
near-" There, be off, or I will call the
police, and give you six months for
annoying me. I tell you the book is
"Can you tell me to whom you sold

it ?" pleaded the miserable, ragged
Tom stopped instantly, as the tones
of the voice fell upon his ear, and he
ran on to the path, and caught the boy
by the shoulder.
It is-it is Charley, isn't it ?" he
said, joyfully.
"Yes, and you are Tom Rivers, I
think," answered Charley; but he could
say no more, for the suddenness of the
meeting had so overpowered his feeble
strength, that he sank down upon a
door-step, and burst into tears.
"There, cheer up," said Tom; "don't
cry. You are hungry, are you nr ?"
"Starving," said Charley: have
had scarcely anything since the day
before yesterday."
Tom did not wait to hear more, but
darting into a baker's shop near, quickly
returned with a small loaf.
"There," he said, giving it to Char-
ley; "you can eat that as we go along.
Get up in my barrow, and I will soon
take you home. I have got a home
now," Tom added, with a proud air.
Tom had been grumbling to himself

about the dulness of his trade, which
had made him much later than usual;
but now all this was forgotten, and he
pushed along the splashy roads, with
Charley sitting in the barrow. At
length, in passing round the corner of
a narrow street, the barrow came in
violent contact with a post on the edge
of the path, and Charley was thrown
out. His head struck against a sharp
stone lying in the road, which cut it so
deeply that he fainted. When Tom
saw the mischief he had done, he
reproached himself bitterly for his care-
lessness. He had only thought of the
joy of Frank when he saw Charley, and
he was in such haste to carry the
joyful tidings, that everything else was
A crowd of people was soon collected
round the spot, and Charley was carried
into the nearest chemist's shop, and
from thence to the nearest hospital;
and thither Tom followed with his
When the surgeon examined the
wound, he said he must remain there
for a few days at least, as he feared it

might prove dangerous if he was not
kept perfectly quiet. Once more, there-
fore, was Tom obliged to part with
Charley; and with a heavy heart, and
at a much more sober pace, he returned
How late you are, Tom," said the
feeble voice of the invalid, when Tom
entered the room. "I thought you
would be home earlier to-day, as it was
so wet."
No, I did not sell out near so quick
to-day," said Tom; "and then-"
he stopped short.
"What?" said Frank; "has any-
thing happened, Tom ?" Tom had
intended to be silent about what had
occurred, until Charley was able to
leave the hospital. Frank repeated his
question. "Is anything the matter
with you ?" he added.
"No," answer Tom; "but I may
as well tell you something. I have
seen Charley."
Oh! when ?-where ?-why did you
not bring him here?" was Frank's
reply. Then Tom told him all that had
occurred, and ended by bursting into

tears, at the recollection of his own
headstrong folly in driving so fast, in
spite of the warnings that were given
him by the passers-by.
Tom was surprised when he went the
next day to the hospital and saw
Charley, but how different to the day
before Then he could scarcely recog-
nise him, he appeared so greatly
changed. But now, although still pale
and careworn, he was clean, and his
bright hair was neatly combed back off
his forehead. He was better, the nurse
said, but must not talk much yet; and
Charley felt too weak and ill to do more
than ask a few questions. But in a few
days, the illness-caused principally by
his want of food-passed off, and then
he became anxious to know all about
Tom, and how he managed to get a
home. Tom gave him a detailed
account of all that had happened to
him since they parted, but without
mentioning Frank's anxiety to see him
and claim of relationship, or that he
was possessed of his mother's Testa-
"Well, I did really mean to come

back as I promised, but Jem Ryan and
the others wouldn't let me."
"How did you get on at Jem's
work?" asked Tom. "Did you get
much money at it ?"
No, that I did not; and what little
I did they took away from me, and
starved me into the bargain. I got
tired of it at last; for one day Jem
found my Testament, and went and
sold it. I had taken all his kicks and
cuffs quietly enough, but when he told
me he had sold that, I vowed I would
never get another sixpence for him;
and I left him that day, and went round
to all the old book-stalls to look for my
Testament; but for weeks I could not
find it, till at last I thought I would
give it up; when one morning there
comes a man with a lot of books to put
on the stand, and the top one was my
Testament. I went up to him and
asked him how much it was, and he
said eighteenpence. I said I had no
money, but it was my mother's book; and
asked him if he would give me a job to
do, so that I could get it; but he
would not believe a word I said, and

threatened to call the police if I did not
be off. A few days afterwards I went
again to see if I could see my Testa-
ment, but it was gone-it was sold!"
Tom heard him through, but now
he said, with joy-lit eyes, What
will you give me if I show you your
Testament? Will you promise to come
with me and see it, when you leave
here ?"
I will go anywhere, I will do any-
thing," he added, "if you will only get
that for me."
I would bring it to you to-morrow,"
said Tom, "but it belongs to some-
body else now, and he has made up
his mind not to part with it till he
O Tom," said Charley, "would he
not give the Testament up to me if he
knew it was my mother's ?"
He does know it," answered Tom,
" and he will give it you himself if you
are well enough to come out before-"
and he hesitated, while the tears slowly
gathered in his eyes-" before he dies,"
he added. "What was your mother's
name ?" he asked auicklv.

"Emily; her name was written in
the book."
"Then, Charley, this Frank that I
have told you about, that has been so
kind to me, is your uncle; he was sure
about it a long time ago, and now I am,
for somehow you are just like him when
you are talking."
"Yes, I think I remember something
about an uncle; but I never saw him,
and she thought he was dead."
"Well, we live in the same house,
and he wants to see you, so make haste
and get well."

U ./^^j
;rI' 1;



HARLEY obtained permission to
leave early the following week;
and as it was Saturday when
he asked, he had not long to wait. He
told Tom of this when he came to see
him on Sunday afternoon.
"All right: I will come and fetch
you to-morrow morning, for I am afraid
if you do not come soon, it will be too
"Why cannot I come with you
now?" said Charley, who was deeply
anxious to see Frank. The nurse was
asked about this, and at length she
obtained permission for him to do so,
and the two boys set off together.

There was a striking contrast in their
appearance, for Tom was dressed in a
neat suit of clothes, while Charley's
garments hung in shreds about him.
When they reached home, Mrs.
Rush drew back when she saw Charley,
and a few words in a low whisper were
spoken in the passage, before she
would consent to let him in. Tom was
prepared for this, and he had made up
his mind to take some clothes of his
own to the hospital for Charley to
come home in on this account, for Mrs.
Rush, though poor, prided herself on
her tidiness.
"Well, I only hope the neighbours
have not seen the ragged little urchin,"
Charley overheard her say, as she
turned away; and another pang shot
through his heart, as he thought of the
disgrace his choice of the path of dis-
honesty had brought him to; whereas
Tom, without his advantages, had
earned for himself a home and a com-
fortable living, by always keeping to
truth and honesty.
Frank was asleep when they went
upstairs ; but Charley could not fail to

trace the likeness he bore to his own
dear mother.
"You must go outside when he
stirs," whispered Tom. "I will tell him
you have come before he sees you, be-
cause the doctor says he cannot bear
anything now."
Charley crept outside when he saw
the invalid move.
"Have you come back ?" he said
feebly, when he saw Tom. "When is
Charley coming out? I am afraid I
shall not see him, after all; I thought
after you were gone, I should not see
you any more."
Could you bear to see him to-day ?"
asked Tom.
"And has he come ?" asked Frank.
"Yes, you shall see him. Charley!"
he called, and the next moment Charley
stood by the bedside.
"Yes, it is-it is Emily's child!"
cried Frank, and he fell back fainting,
on the pillow. The two boys were at
first alarmed, but soon the death-like
paleness passed off, and in a few
minutes he so far recovered as to be
able to ask for Charley.

"I am here," said he, taking his
Frank pressed it with all the strength
he was capable of, and for some time he
lay perfectly silent, with his eyes closed.
Then all at once he roused, and
placing the precious Testament in
Charley's hand, he said, "Read the
second chapter of Luke."
With trembling fingers, Charley
turned over the leaves, and when he
had found the place, he read in a sub-
dued voice, on to the twenty-ninth
verse, when Frank slowly repeated after
him, "'Lord, now lettest thou thy ser-
vant depart in peace, according to thy
word.' Don't read any further, just
now," he said. I shall depart very
soon, I know. God has heard and
answered my prayers. I die a penitent,
relying on God's mercy and looking to
Jesus, who has said that He will not
cast out any poor sinner that rests on
Him. To Him I look. My Charley,"
he said, gazing at him earnestly, re-
member what I say, there is no peace,
no happiness, but in Jesus. This pre-
cious Testament- my gift to your

mother-has taught me to know Him.
Now, make it your guide, the rule of
your life, and meet me again in heaven.
I am dying. In a few hours I shall be
with my sister; and before I go, I want
you to promise me that you will never,
from this time, let a day pass without
reading this book, and asking God's
help, that by the grace of His Holy
Spirit, you may overcome sin and
Satan. Stay with Tom-he has been a
dear kind friend to me, and though I
cannot repay him, God will. Can you
promise to read this book?" he said,
placing it again in Charley's hand, and
looking earnestly at him.
"Yes," murmured Charley, through
his tears; I promise to try and live a
different life." And this promise was
faithfully kept.
That night Frank died. Tom sup-
ported his head, while Charley and
Mrs. Rush stood by his bedside when
his spirit passed away. He had spoken
only just before, and Tom could not, at
first, believe-that all was over; but
when he realized the solemn fact, his
grief burst forth, for he dearly loved

this his only friend. But for Charley,
he would have yielded too much to his
sorrow, but the need of making efforts
for him roused him from his grief.
The rest of our story is soon told.
After the funeral, Charley went with
Tom on his rounds, and helped him in
every possible way, so that in a year or
two, by the aid of Mr. Blunt, a horse
and cart took the place of the barrow,
and soon after, a shop was taken in the
same line of business, and was con-
ducted by the two-we had almost said
boys, but they had grown to be young
men now-upon the principles of truth
and honesty. They were looked up to
and respected by all who knew them,
for their Christian conduct; and the
treasure valued by them both, above
all others-the foundation and source
pf all their blessings-was


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