The Somerset reporter., 1892-06-23
The Picture on the Wall.
Nv 4. w. Hawks.

Not Il line work of ART !: the Keen critic
would have pronounced it II daub. 1t
did not cost much money aud the frame
was of plain uncarved wood. But the
picture told Il story and told it we'll.
For the background Il rough stone
wall, above il Il leaden sky; in the fore
ground Il pale. sad-eNed, weary-looking
girl had fallen ON stone bench, and in
her arms she held a sick boy, "A white
band around his forehead inst above the
sunkeu, faded eyes. And Just in front
of them, The Christ stood, the patient,
cNcr-suflering, overlooking Christ, and
Ills hand, not yet pierced. rested upon
he head of the sick boy. and His eyes,
50 tender, 50 loving. so true. caught the
uIturncd eyes of the lad, and in the
faded eyes of the boy the light was
beginning to come back.
The picture hung in Il hospital on the
dead, bare whitewashed walls. And on
Il bed right opposite the picture. tossing
in fever, wild with delirilim. was Il wolf
reared boy of the slums. Born of rum
cursed parents. nursed at 4 riim-sccnted
breast and tossed in the nervous arms of
Il drunken mother. the boy was born to
the heritage of Woe. He knew nothing
of what the word father meant, he knew
"the old man well enough to keep out
of his way, he carried marks of his bru-
tai beatngs on his face, and when the
fever came, the blue-coated policeman
found him alone in the straw on the
dainb floor of his cellar.
They brought him here. and hands
soft and delicate ministered to him,
while the white-souled nurse treinbled
with fear ut his fearful oaths.
He grew better: the doctor said he
would pull through.
One morning when the nurse came,
and pulling up the blind let the light
fall upon his face. she said:
''Shall read to YOU
NO" said the boy. and his eyes
sought the picture. "No, tell me about
that picture who is lIe:'
''EIc is the Christ" she said, and then
with prayer in her heart she told the
story of His life to the boy, and as she
closed she said, "Do you believe in
Him.
II believe in you,'' said the boy, and
the next morning he said to the nurse,
"rell me more about Him"
How glad the sad-eved nurse was to
tell him Her life had been one of trial,
bit ilON SIif wa w IL maven VI
rest, and the christ'S voice had brought
Il calm to the troubled waters of her
life.
As she told the old, old story the boy
said
.Iou know Him, don't YOU
eyes, she said, ''tlank God. do"
"And He loves boys
ale loves everybody"
though boys like me?'.
'Evcrybody.
And so. day by lay. She talked of
Him. and at last there came a time when
she said again
"Do YOU believe in Him"
And he said. II believe
And two faces bathed in tears were
lifted up to the picture.
The boy went from the hospital carry
ING next his heart The Christ.
As the years rolled on the nurse
thought often OF the boy, but she was
shut ont from the world. and her hours
were all long hours, so she heard moth
ing of him, but when gray-hailcd and
bent with aye she finally fell in the har
ness, they brought her, at her request,
and placed her on the bed opposite the
picture of The Christ and the child. She
was fading away rs Il cloud mt sunset is
kissed by the dying sun into the glory OF
heaven. Her eyes often rested upon the
picture and her pale hands were lifted
toward it,.
So many came to see her; old men and
women she had nursed back to life,
children who loved her because her love
had stood between them and death, the
white-capped nurses crowded around
her, for her life had blessed them.
The gray light of IA new born day
stole through the window, all was still
in that quiet ward, around the bed,
dewy-eyed, stood the nurses, for she
was dying. A young clergyman from
the next ward had been called in; he
looked upon the face on the pillow, then
his eyes sought the picture; then as he
fell upon his knees he said, "rhank
God"
The eyes of the dying sought his,
sWho are you?" she said.
Oh, how her face was gioriilcd with "A
glory not of earth as she listened, for he
said, 81 am the boy you told the story
of the picture to. My work is with the
poor. We shall meet again
cliff me-" she said.
"Ah." he whispered, ''you lifted me-"
His strong right arm lifted her up; to-
gethcr their eyes sought the picture.
The first ray of the rising sun fell upon
the face of the Christ, and when he
gently lowered the dead face to the
pillow he knew that she saw lIim"face to
face, Voice.