His son was a soldier, and had been in the West Indies for some years;
but he caught the yellow fever, and was sent home sick.
The next morning the old man went on his way, and blessed Sarah Jenkins
and Harry, because they had done good to him who could make no other
return than to thank them and pray for them.
[Illustration: HOSPITALITY]
SUNDAY EVENING.
* * * * *
When I was a girl, Sunday evening used to be the part of the week that I
loved best; and I liked it better in Winter than in Summer. We used to
sit round a blazing fire; my mother used then to teach my little brother
Tom to say his prayers, and my father used to teach me to read in
Pilgrim's Progress, or some such book; while my brother John sat near
reading some book or other that was fit for a Sunday, with his dog
Hector lying at his feet.
My dear old grand-father was then alive, and he would sit at the table
with the large old family Bible before him for the whole evening.
As I look back upon the pleasant picture in my mind, my eye fills with
tears. I cannot help thinking of what has become of the faces that were
then so full of smiles and gladness.
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