Chicago eagle. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1889-19??, 1894-05-05
rs 4 Consequence.
MARY A. SAWYER.

that had tempered the days heat
having died away, and his coat, worn
because Of the presence Of a guest,
made him uncomfortable. Ills eye
was stern, and his voice almost irri.
table, us he addressed his niece who
sat at the head Of the table.
'"rhen you and Sarah won't neither
Of you go?" he asked.
'No, uncle we are going to party.
told you this morning."
1--WE positively cannot 60 to prayer
meeting with you tonight, Deacon
Albany" said Sarah Cooke. ~
might be spared, but who could or
would have party without Mcg?"
The deacon groaned aloud. He
pushed aside his cup Of tea, and
leaning an elbow on the table, looked
with hard. strong glance ut his
niece, who, young, pretty, and be.
comingly attired in u freshly-ironed
pink calico, sat quietly pouring the
tea.
"You young things will be sorry
some day." he said. "Wait till the
alarming hand OF death gifts its
clutch on you, an you'll repent an
cry out an smite yourselves in. fear
an trembling, but it'll be too late
then to git in. You III find tho door
shut, an shut tight. 1t amt held
open forever an forever, whilst folks
is dancin', an dispisin' the way O.
salvation. tn be shut you'll find"
He waxed warm, us he spoke, and
his voice had high, shrill note In 1t,
which brought additional color into
his niece's cheeks. She wished he
would not 20 on like that, she said
to herself, impatiently. Why
couldn't he let them alone? What
harm was there In Q little party, a
little gathering Of friends, that no
should 60 on so?
Sarah Cooke stirred her ten and
looked ut him calmly. us there
much difference in death-beds, Dea.
con Albany" she asked presently.
Meg stared ut her, and the deacon
glared ut her. DO hear We aright?"
he said sharply, do you, the daugh.
ter Of professin' Christians, sit there
and ask me II there Is any difference
,twixt the death.bed OF . Christian
an the death-bed Of an unconverted
sinner!"
~ don't believe there Is much DIFF
ference" said Sarah. People who
are sick enough to die arc too sick to
have any fear Of anything"
"You don't know what you arc
talkin' about" replied the deacon.
"You haven't never seen folks die,
an you don't know. But l have
seen folks die, q plenty Of 'em, an !
tell you there amt no more heart
rendin' sight than to see On uncon-
verified sinner writhing an tossing
about, all In. an agony OF fear, groan.
in an cryih' aloud, an KNOWN in
his heart that he has put 1t OIL too
long, that O lifetime Of remorse is
his sure portion In the next world.
Oh, 1t Is terrible, terrible! And here
you be, you two young things, put.
ting 1t Of, an dancing and feastlng,
stead O. going to prayer.meetin' an
findin' out the way O. salvation"
SaraE listened quietly. She had
often attended the weekly prayer.
meeting, where she had heard words
OF similar import fall from tho dea'
cons lips. Meg, also, was familiar
with them. Ordinarily they seemed
to her simply part Of the table,
conversation, to which she need
make no reply. Tonight, they
reused in her q spirit Of defiance.
~ don't believe there's much diff
ference" she said.
"What's that, hey?"
Meg's voice faltered little but she
went on boldly. I'D guess II 1t was
you and me, Uncle Simon, I'd die
just as quiet as you would. ain't
q mite afraid Of making great fus'
when ! die.
Deacon Albany rose and pushed
his chair against the wall. The flusl
OF anger faded from his face, his voic'
was less hard. II have been q right
eous man, The said," and I expect t,
die the death OF the righteous. Deatl
has no terror for the righteous man
II Is but the last sleep, there Is nj
fear, no clinging to life, no remorse
Such will be my death.bed, but To-
you, my child, ! am sore afraid"
He went away out OF the room
His boots creaked, and he walked OF
tip-toe, as II the grim, shadowinl
presence were waiting upon thu
threshold. The two young women wer'
silent for few moments after hi
departure. There had been a quivel
In his voice which touched them
Meg was the first to speak. ~ sup
pose ought to go to prayer,meetinI
more" she said. +" I suppose
ought to go tonight"
Sarah made no reply. She crum
bled q bit OF bread into fine frag-
ments, whilst Meg, in whose ear
still fingered the words my child, >
watched her absently.
Suddenly Sarah spoke. "Don't
you want me to make you o few day.
visit?" she asked.
Meg's eyes shone, as she answered
eagerly: Don't II Will you really
VIII your"
Sarah mimicked her earnest voice
"Will II WE'LL" with q laugh, "aftel
inviting myself, I think will.
A week later, the deacon, saraf
and Meg were again seated ut thu
table. Meg had removed the frs