The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1888-02-18
A BOAT TO HEAVEN.

Great punches of lilac and laburnum
swsying over a rustic porch, the pur-
Pile hills behind, and before white
road leading to craggy steps and rocks.
and down to the cleaning silver sea. A
haven of rest indeed-a place where
many jaded Londoner has come apart
in summer time, and drank in peace and
gladnees from the beauty of fields and
waves. But Mrs Hurst is not at rest;
she sits with folded hands at the lodging
house window, doing nothing, outward
ly peaceful and at ease, but racked by
heart disquiet that refusesto be soothed
by the calm ministry of nature. She is
a widow-in that word the secret Of her
bitterness is told; she has known happy
married life-an existence like an idyll-
for more than twenty years, but after
brief illness her husband was taken
hence, and now he lies in the church
yard of the Kentish village that SO long
has been their home, close to the little
mound where, years ago, they laid the
child that looked on earth for one sweet
year and passed away. Mrs. Hurst has
comfortable means and excellent health;
the lodging house keeper, working hard
from morning till night, is inclined some
times to envy her lodger's easy circum-
stances and luxurious lot, while the poor
lady at the parlor window never sees
without quivering sigh the meeting o.
husb4 and and wife at the gate when the
good mans work is done.
This evening Mrs Klbbs had heard OF
dodgers for her second set of rooms, and
she ran out excitedly, halfway down the
road to acquaint Kibbs with the news. Mrs.
Hurst watches them together, and then
looks out to sea with the sense of lone
illness, the feeling of life utterly blank
and empty, that is her daily torment. The
boys in the neighboring church are sing
ing sweetly of the Sovereign Ruler of the
Skies" as she gets up restlessly and wan
ders down to the beach; but the mention
of her Lord brings her no relief. She
has hardened her heart against him, for
has he not taken her all, and left her for
ever alone?
All the little world OF Shinglsdown is
on the distant pier, where band Is play
ing; happy couples are promenading and
merry children are enjoying final game
of ball upon the firm. tempting boards,
This evening, too, there is fete in the
gardens, and most of the boatmen have
patronized it; the beach, ON which the
moon is beginning to rise, seems to Mrs.
Hurst deserted, and its solitude attracts
her, for she is in that irritable state OF
mind in which the society Of our fellow
creatures is almost UNDESIRABLE. She is
musing on her melancholy condition,
without any near relations, without any
home-for she has given up the old house,
linked with so many tender associations
when she becomes conscious of voices
near her, and impatiently prepares to de-
part. Then she realizes that the intrud-
ers are only little children, hidden from
her view behind boat; but the chain of
her thought Is broken-she finds herself
following their talk.
"Its all right, Linnie-the tides going
out; and besides, I'm certain sure l can
row. I'm nearly seven, and often went out
in the boat with him. And old Dan will
never mind if his boat ney or comes back,
Gods sure to give him another boat in
stead, you know. heard old Dan say
once, God makes it up to folks who are
good to little children. Come, Linnie,
quick, or they'll try to keep us back-are
you resdyP"
Eyes, brudder, quite ready" another
little voice makes reply; "iust wait while
put my jacket round baby"
"Good-by, dear Shingledownl good
by, dear bostsl" says the boy; =" We love
you dearly, bat we've got to go. We've
got no home, and we've no dad and no
mother only in heaven. Come, Linnie,
you step in and hold baby tight, and I'll
push you down the beach"
sand then" says the little one, joyous
ly, "we'll sail away to heaven. All, baby,
don't cry; well see dad and mother very
soon. Old Dan said they're in heaven,