The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1901-05-14
HE FEARED THE GATE.

who had been attacked with sudden
illness on the cars and had stopped
at a little inn near the railway sta
ton, about three miles from the
village. The patient proved to be
Squire Joyce, from the neighboring
county, whom the doctor slightly
knew. He examined him carefully,
and gave him medicines taken from
his saddle bags. Then he rose to go,
smiling cheerfully down at the anx-
ious face of the sufferer.
"You will, 1 think, find yourself
better in the morning able, I hope,
to go on your Journey" he said.
eyes. Stay a minute, doctor. I
want you to be honest with me. 1
have had seizures like this before.
Shall I have them again?"
"It is probable"
81 want the truth-aIl of it."
eyes, they will return"
81 may die in one of them-to-
morrow"
eyes. Or it may be, not for years.
1t is uncertain. Do not waste your
life in anticipating them. We all
must go through the same gate
some day"
"The gate-yes! But beyond the
is there?"
His eyes were on the doctors face,
full of doubt, almost of pain.
The two men were silent a moment.
"What is there?" Joyce repeated,
harshly. "You are a member of a
church, Christian. 1 have no re-
ligious belief. Tell me, for the love
of God, what is there beyond? If I
may go tomorrow, what shall I
fnd?"
81 do not know"
Joyce did not speak for a while,
and then gave a forced laugh. 81
need your help more for this than
for my disease. I'd rather talk to
you than to a clergyman. You are
a shrewd man of the world, and a
good man. Sometimes l am greatly
depressed, thinking of this darkness
into which 1 am going. For thou
sands of years men have gone out
into it, leaving their loved ones be-
hind, and not one has sent back a
word to say how it fares with him
not one"
In the silence that followed the
rain beat against the windows. There
came a slight whimpering cry from
without.
"You are an old man, doctor, said
Joyce, turning quickly on him.
"You are not far from the gate your
self. Are you not afraid of what
may be beyond?"
"No," said the old man. "No, I
am not afraid. May 1 ask you to
look here" He rose and opened the
door. Outside, in the dark hall, lay
a little ~fox-terrier drenched with
rain. He was crouched on the floor,
his eyes fixed on the closed door.
"This is my dog, a bright, afec-
tionate little fellow. He has follow
ed me through the storm, and has
been lying outside the door, know
ing that I was in this closed cham
Der. He never was here before. He
did not know what was in this room.
He did not care TO know. I was in
it, his master, whom he loves, who
has cared for him. He is not afraid. -
Joyce looked at the doctor keenly
a moment before he spoke.
"You mean"
81 mean that I am like poor Punch.
I I'M not afraid of the dark room to
which 1 am going. do not ask to
know what is there. 1 believe that
my Lord and Master is there. In all
these later years of my life I have
felt that He cared for me, My con-
fdence has been such that I have
been assured that in my hours of
trial He has never failed me here.
I sincerely believe He will not fail
me yonder."
'FBut II do not know Him"
"He knows you. 1 think 1 am au-
thorized by the declarations of the
Bible to say that His hand is
stretched out to you. 1 think, too,
that 1 can r~everently ask you to take
it. You can accept Him as your
Guide and Teacher if you will. That
done in sincerity, you will not fear
the gate nor all that lies beyond