The Newtown bee., 1897-07-02

p1tICo LhOSS WIN ~CkC CbSL
lost; and thought how much better il
would have been for them had they been
Christians, while he looked upon the an.
gels, curiously wondering if some of
them there had been as good as they
''might have BEEN"
At last nothing remained between him
and the Searching Eye bent upon him.
1t was an expression of infinite mercy,
loving compassion and yearning tender
ness. yet answering justice that seemed
to draw him nearer and nearer, as by
some invisible chain.
I am a deacon explained our friend.
There was no voice, no sound, yet
deep down in his heart he seemed to
hear in living thunders: 81 know thee
/" while the angels turned away in
tears.
"Don't you know? Don't you remem-
Der! | am Deacon Heyworth, - he said,
shivering and whitening beneath the aw-
full horror that grew upon him. But no,
! "Well done" greeted him from the Pres
ence there; all the glory faded away
only the cruelly-pierced tside and hands
and feet and the thorn crowned brow re-
manned; a voice infinite in its sadness
came from without the awful stiffness,
"Ye have done this unto mel
The angels sobbed and still the horror
grew; he seemed embodied in a living,
breathing agony, with his conscience his
accuser. "You were deacon with q
deacon's work to do; it was yours to
bind up the hearts of Gods children, to
make the widows heart to sing for 10y,
to be peacemaker among your breth
rem and to advance Gods cause and king
dom in the earth, but you have not
given "a cup of cold water to one Of
: these, His little ones ~
Wrung from his own soul, yet anoth-
er's, fainter and fainter grew the voice,
and the angels yelled their faces and
turned away; waiting listening for his
fearful sentence; ages seemed concen-
trated in that one instant of anguish, and
he shrieked aloud.
''Nathan, what upon earth! What is
the matter with your" and Mrs Hey
worth shook her husband vigorously.
''Have you got the nightmare"
ooh, Hannah, I've had an awful
| dream, an awful dream!"
"Have you? Nightmare, I expect"
and she turned over sleepily.
! 1t was not the nightmare, Deacon
Heyworrh knew, but he did what many
of US would not have done, determined
to accept its~teaching.
| "Who would eyer have thought it
he queried wonderingiy to himself,
scarcely able to deny the reality of it all,
'tWho would ever have thought it of me
a deacon?"
Shivering, thinking and resolving he
fell asleep again, and again he dreamed.
He was dead, lying still and pale and
cold; and yet he stood watching his
family as any curious bystander might
and to his surprise there was
not so much of sorrow as of contentment
down deep beneath their mourning.
His wife's face seemed to grow bright
err, as if a world of care had been re
moved from her life. ''Hhe children car
have their own way now, poor things =
she was saying to herself, although bel
eyes were wet; ''they could never do a.
they liked while their father was liv
ing!" He thought Willie was trying
hard not to think how glad he was tina
he could go to college at last, while Mary
and Thomas were saying over and ovel
to themselves, mo person will hinder
me from going to school when 1 want t.
60" He saw another form bowed near
it was his long-absent daughter, anC
through her heart were wandering tn.
words, "Thank God, 1 can come home
again."
1t was terrible. He tried to speak, tt
tell them he was not dead, that he lovet
them more than they ever knew; it wa
in vain, and he saw himself carried away
and buried; but he thought he could SCI
them still-was with them all the Will
with them, yet immeasurably separa
ted from them; through days and weeks
} months and years he followed them, al
, the time suffering remorseful anguish
J that would have been insupportable bu
that he could not speak or weep. FL
: thought it had been sten years since
: died, and that he had long been forgot
: ten by any but his family; his wife nov
q looked restful, happy and contented; an
his children all occupied places of usefu
q ness and homer in the world, and b
8 dreamed often and often that their In
t most thoughts were, "We were neve
Y happy while father lived, and we wosl
q never have been happy had he not died
J He tried to speak, to tell them he love
y them, that he had been with them a
|. these years, but he could make no sount
and they turned away; but he must ca
+ them, must speak to them; again an
= again he tried to do so, and awoke.
Fl Long the deacon pondered over h
s dreams, and in his heart he felt that tbs
had not been of himself, but of God.
it They're warnings, Nathan He,
worth!' he decided at length, solemn.
il warnings, aure's you live, and yen {
g well TO abide by 'em. 8
. The Ice was floating away, and alread
the green moss and shining shell we
!; simmeriag up from beneath.
ID
g
III It was breakfast time at Deacon He
Is worth's, and the meal was being cate
ri as usual in almost perfect silene
- Again and again had the husband al
e. father been on the verge Of speaking
i'd his lips only opened TO close again ailer
10 III. No one knew Of the previous nigh
experience -of the warnings he firm