Citation
Jessica's first prayer

Material Information

Title:
Jessica's first prayer
Creator:
Stretton, Hesba, 1832-1911 ( Author, Primary )
Hoyt, Henry ( Publisher )
Place of Publication:
Boston
Publisher:
Henry Hoyt
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
121 p., [8] leaves of plates : ill. ; 18 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Prayer -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Intergenerational relations -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Alcoholism -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Runaway children -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Clergy -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Adoption -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1876
Genre:
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Title page printed in colors.
General Note:
Date of publication from inscription.
Funding:
Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026975060 ( ALEPH )
ALH8586 ( NOTIS )
61164817 ( OCLC )

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Full Text
0,

FIR ST PRAYER



























FRONTISPIECE.



JESSICA’S

BOSTON:

PUBLISHED BY HENRY HOYT,
NO. 9 CORNHILL.







CHAPTER I.

Tue CoFFEE-STALL AND ITS KEEPER,

CHAPTER IL

JESSICA’S TEMPTATION, . . oe

CHAPTER III.
An OLp Frienp In A New DREss, .

CHAPTER IV.
PEEPS INTo Farry-LAND, . . .

CHAPTER V.
A New Wortp OPENS,. . «©

CHAPTER VI.
Tum First PRAYER, .». «© e« e



21
33 .
47
59

69



iv. CONTENTS.



CHAPTER VIL
Harp QUESTIONS, . . . °

CHAPTER VIII.

AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR, . .

CHAPTER IX,
Tuer First PRAYER ANSWERED, .

CHAPTER X,

Tur SHapow oF DEATH, «+ .



5

83

95

111



CHAPTER U.

The Goffes- Stall

AND ITS KEEPER.













HESSICA’S HIRST {DRAYER.

SSG
I

Che Gottee-Stall and iis Heeper,

GyYN a screened and secluded - corner

A of one of the many railway-bridges

which span the streets of Lon-

don, there could be seen, a few years
ago, from five o’clock every morning
until halfpast eight, a tidily set out cof
fee-stall, consisting of a trestle and board,
upon which stood two large tin cans,
with a small fire of charcoal burning

under each, so as to keep the coffee



8 ‘ JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



boiling during the early hours of the morn
ing when the work-people were thronging
into the city, on their way to their
daily toil. The coffee-stall was a favorite
one, for besides being under shelter, which
was of great consequence upon rainy
mornings, it was also in so private a
niche that the customers taking their
out-of-door breakfast were not too much
exposed to notice; and moreover, the
coffee-stall keeper was a quiet man, who
cared only to serve the busy workmen,
without hindering. them by any gossip.
He was a tall, spare, elderly man, with
a singularly solemn face, and a manner
which was grave and secret. Nobody
knew either his name or dwelling-place;
unless it might be the policeman who

strode past the coffee-stall every half



THE COFFEE-STALL AND ITS KEEPER. 9

hour, aud nodded familiarly to the solemn
man bebind it. There were very few
who cared to make any enquiries about
him; but those who did could only dis-
cover that he kept the furniture of his
stall at a neighboring coffee-house, whither
he wheeled his. trestle and board and
crockery every day, not later than half.
past eight in the morning; after which
he was wont to glide away with a soft
footstep, and a mysterious and fugitive
air, with many backward and_ sidelong
glances, as if he dreaded observation,
until he was lost among the crowds
which thronged the streets. No one had
ever had the persevering curiosity to
track him all the way to his house, or
to find out his other means of gaining

a livelihood; but in general his stall



10 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



was surrounded by customers, whom hae
“served with silent seriousness, and who
did not grudge to pay him his charge
for the refreshing coffee he supplied to
them.
For several years the crowd of work-
people had paused by the coffee-stall
_ under the railway-arch, when one morn-
ing, in a partial lull of his business, the
owner became suddenly aware of a pair
of very bright dark eyes being fastencd
upon him and the slices: of bread and
butter on his board, with a gaze as hungry
as that of a mouse which has been driven
by famine into a trap. A thin and meagre
face belonged to the eyes, which was half
hidden by a mass of matted hair hanging
over the forehead, and down the neck;

the only covering which the head or neck



THE COFFEE-STALL AND ITS KEEPER. 11

had, for a tattered frock, scarcely fastened
together with broken strings, was slipping
down over the shivering shoulders of the
little girl. Stooping down to a basket
behind his stall, he caught sight of .two
bare little feet curling up from the damp
pavement, as the child lifted up first one
and then the other, and laid them one
over another to gain a momentary feeling
of warmth. Whoever the wretched child
was, she did not speak; only at every
steaming cupful which he poured out of
his can, her dark eyes gleamed hungrily,
and he could hear her smack her thin
lips, as if in fancy she was tasting the
warm and fragrant coffee.

“Oh, come now!” he said at last, when

only one boy was left taking his breakfast



12 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

leisurely, and he leaned over his stall to
speak in a low and quiet tone, “why
don’t you go away, little girl? Come,
come; you're staying too long, you know.”

“I’m just going, sir,” she answered,
shrugging her small shoulders to draw
her frock up higher about her neck;
“only it’s raining cats and dogs outside;
and mother’s been away all night, and she
took the key with her; and it’s so nice
to smell the coffee; and the police have
left off worriting me while I’ve been here.
He thinks I’m a customer taking my break-
fast.” And the child laughed a shrill little
laugh of mockery at herself and the police-
mau.

“You’ve had no breakfast, I suppose,”

said the coffee-stall keeper, in the same



THE COFFEE-STALL AND ITS KEEPER. 13

low and confidential voice, and leaning
over his stall till his face nearly touched

the thin, sharp features of the child.
“No,” she replied, coolly, “and I shall

want my dinner dreadful bad afore I get
it, I know. You don’t often feel dreadful
hungry, do you, sir? I’m not griped yet,
you know; but afore I taste my dinner
itll be pretty bad, I tell you. Ah! very
bad indeed!”

She turned away with a knowing nod,
as much as to say she had one experience
in life to which he was quite a stranger;
but before she had gone half a dozen
steps, she heard the quiet voice calling to
her in rather louder tones, and in an in-
stant she was back at the stall.

“Slip in here,” said the owner, in a

cautious whisper; “here’s a little coffee



14 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

left and a few crusts. There, you must
never come again, you know. I never
give to beggars; and if you’d begged, I’d
have called the police. There; put your
poor feet towards the fire. Now, aren’t
you comfortable?”

The child looked up with a face of in-
tense satisfaction. She was seated upon
an empty basket, with her feet near the
pan of charcoal, and a cup of steaming
coffee on her lap; but her mouth was too
full for her to reply, except by a very
deep nod, which expressed unbounded de-
light. The man was busy for awhile
packing up his crockery: but every now
and then he stooped to look down upon
her, and to shake his head gravely.

“What's your name?” he asked, at

length; “but there, never mind! I don’t



THE COFFEE-STALL AND ITS KEEPER. 15



care what it is. What’s your name to
do with: me, I wonder?”

“Tt’s Jessica,’ said the girl: “but
mother and everybody calls me Jess.
You’d be tired of being called Jess,
if you was me. It’s Jess here, and
Jess there; and Srey wanting me
to go errands, And they think nothing
of giving me smacks, and kicks, and
pinches. Look here!”

Whether her arms were black and
blue from the cold, or from illusage, he
could not tell; but he shook his head
again seriously, and the child felt en-
couraged to go on. .

“T wish I could stay here for ever and
ever, just as I am!” she cried. “ But

you’re going away, I know; and I’m



16 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



never to come again, or you'll set the —
police on me!”

“Yes,” said the coffee-stall keeper,
very softly, and looking round to see
if there were any other ragged children
-within sight; “if you’ll promise not to
come again for a whole week, and not
to tell anybody else, you may come once
more. I'll give you one other treat.
But you must be off now.”

“T’m off, sir’ she said, sharply; “but
if you’ve a errand I could go on, I’d
do it all right, I would. Let me carry
some of your things.”

“No, no,” cried the man; “you run
away, like a good girl; and mind! I’m
not to see you again for a whole

week.”



THE COFFEE-STALL AND ITS KEEPER. 17

—ro-—

“All right!” answered Jess, setting
off down the rainy street at a quick
run, as if to show her willing agree-
ment to the bargain; while the coffee-
stall keeper, with many a cautivus glance
around him, removed his stock-in-trade to
the coffee-house near at hand, and was
seen no more for the rest of the day

in the neighborhood of the railway-bridge.








CHAPTER QU.

Bessican s Cemptatt ot.

PORE








IL.

Jessie's Temptation.

HE bargain, on Jessica’s part, was
CG faithfully kept; and though the

~ solemn and silent man under the
dark shadow of the bridge looked out
for her every morning as he served his
customers, he caught no glimpse of her
wan face and thin little frame. But
when the appointed time was finished,

she presented herself at the stall, with

her hungry eyes fastened again upon
21



22 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

+o

the piles of buns and bread and _ butter,
which were fast disappearing before the
demands of the buyers. The business
was at its height, and the famished child
stood quietly on one side watching for
the throng to melt away. But as soon
as the nearest church clock had chimed
eight, she drew a little nearer to the
stall, and at a signal from its owner she
slipped between the trestles of his stand,
and took up her former position on the
empty basket. To his eyes she seemed
even a little thinner, and certainly more
ragged, than before; and he laid a whole
bun, a stale one which was left from
yesterday’s stock, upon her lap, as she
lifted the cup of coffee to her lips with
both her benumbed hands,



JESSICA’S TEMPTATION. 23

“What's your name?” she asked, looking
up to him with her keen eyes.

“Why?” he answered, hesitatingly, as
if he was reluctant to tell so much of
himself; “my christened name is Daniel.”

“And where do you live, Mr. Dan’el?”
she enquired.

“Oh, come now!” he exclaimed, “if
yowre going to be impudent, you’d better
march off. What business is it of yours
where I live? I don’t want to know
where you live, I can tell you.”

“J didn’t mean no offence,” said Jess,
humbly; “only I thought I’d like to know .
where a good man like you lived. You're
a very good man, aren’t you, Mr. Dan’el?”

“T don’t know,” he answered, uneasily;

“Tm afraid I’m not.”



24 JESSICA 8 FIRST PRAYER.

“Oh, but you are, you know,” continued
Jess. “You make good coffee; prime!
And buns too! And I’ve been watching
you hundreds of times afore you saw me,
and the police leaves you alone, and never
tells you to move on. Oh, yes! you must
be a very good man.”

Daniel sighed, and fidgetted about his
crockery with a grave and occupied air,
as if he were pondering over the child’s
notion of goodness. He made good coffee,
and the police left him alone! It was
quite true; yet still as he counted up the-
store of pence which had accumulated in
lis strong canvas bag, he sighed again
still more heavily. He purposely let one
of his pennies fall upon the muddy pave-
ment, and went on counting the rest busi-

ly, while he furtively ‘watched the little



JESSICA’S TEMPTATION. 25

girl sitting at his feet. Without a shade
of change upon her small face, she covered
the penny with her foot, and drew it in
carefully towards her, while she continued
to chatter fluently to him. For a moment
a feeling of pain shot a pang through
Daniel’s heart; and then he congratulated
himself on having entrapped the young
thief. It was time to be leaving now;
but before he went he would make her
move her bare foot, and disclose the penny
concealed beneath it, and then he would
warn her never to venture near his stall
again. This was her gratitude, he thought;
he had given her two breakfasts and more
kindness than he had shown to any fellow-
creature for many a long year; and, at the

first chance, the young jade turned upon

him and robbed him! He was brooding



26 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER

over it painfully in his mind, when Jessi-
ca’s uplifted face changed suddenly, and
a dark flush crept over her pale cheeks,
and the tears started to her eyes. She
stooped down, and picking up the coin
from amongst the mud, she rubbed it
bright and clean upon her rags, and laid
it upon the stall close to his hand, but
without speaking a word. Daniel looked
down upon her solemnly and searchingly.

“What's this?” he asked.

“Please, Mr. Daniel,” she answered,
“it qanped: and you didn’t hear it.”

“Jess,” he said, sternly, “tell me all
about it.”

“Oh, please,” she sobbed, “I never
had a penny of my very own but once;
and it rolled close to my foot; and you

didn’t see it; and I hid it up sharp;



i
}
HH]
i

iH x



“What's this? ” he asked.



JESSICA'S TEMPTATION. 27

and then I thought how kind you’d been,
and how good the coffee and buns are,
and how you let me warm myself at
your fire; and please, I couldn’t keep
the penny any longer. You’l]l never let
me come again, I guess.”

Daniel turned away for a minute, busy-
ing himself with putting his cups and
saucers into the basket, while Jessica
stood by trembling, with the large tears
rolling slowly down’ her cheeks. The
snug, dark corner, with its warm fire of
charcoal, and its fragrant smell of coffee,
had been a paradise to her for these
two brief spans of time; but she had
been guilty of the sin which would drive
her from it.. All beyond the railway
arch the streets stretched away, cold and

dreary, with no friendly faces to meet



28 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

hers, and no warm cups of coffee to
refresh her; yet she was only lingering
sorrowfully to hear the words spoken
which should forbid her to return to this
pleasant spot. Mr. Daniel turned round
at last, and met her tearful gaze, with
a look of strange emotion upon his own
solemn face.

“Jess,” he said, “I could never have
done it myself. But you may come here
every Wednesday morning, as this is a
Wednesday, and there’ll always be a cup
of coffee for you.”

She thought he meant that he could
not have hidden the penny under his
foot, and she went away a little saddened
and subdued, notwithstanding her great
delight in the expectation of such a treat

every week; while Daniel, pondering



JusSiCa’S TEMPTATION. 29

over the struggle that must have passed
through her childish mind, went on his
way, from time to time shaking his head,
and muttering to himself, “I couldn't
have done it myself: I never could have

done it myself.”








CHAPTER U0.

2 @
aun Oly Friend in Aetw Dress,

~ (ihr
PREM











IL.

An OW Lrieud in x Hew Dress,

mei EEK after week, all through
Gl the three last months of the

year, Jessica appeared every
Wednesday at the coffee-stall, and, after
waiting patiently till the close of the
breakfasting business, received her pittance
from the charity of her new friend. After
a while Daniel allowed her to carry some
of his load to the coffee-house, but he
never suffered her to follow him farther,

and he was always particular to watch her

out of sight before he turned off through
33



84 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

the intricate mazes of the streets in the
direction of his own home. Neither did
he encourage her to ask him any more
questions; and often but very few words
passed between them during Jessica’s
breakfast time.

As to Jessica’s home, she made no se-
cret of it, and Daniel might have followed
her any time he pleased. It was a single
room, which had once been a hayloft over
the stable of an old inn, now in use for
two or three donkeys, the property of
costermongers dwelling in the court about
it. The mode of entrance was by a
wooden ladder, whose rungs were crazy
and broken, and which led up through a
trap-door in the floor of the loft. The
interior of the home was as desolate and

comfortless as that of the stable below,



AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW DRESS. 35

with only a litter of straw for the bea.
ding, and a few bricks and boards for
the furniture. Everything that could be
pawned had disappeared long ago, and
Jessica’s mother often lamented that she
could not thus dispose of her child. Yet
Jessica was hardly a burden to her. It
was a long time since she had taken any
care to provide her with food or clothing,
and the girl had to earn or beg for
herself the meat which kept a scanty life
within her. Jess was the drudge and
errand-girl of the court; and what with
being cuffed and beaten by her mother,
and over-worked and ill-used by her nu-
merous employers, her life was a hard
one. But now there was always Wednes-

day morning to count upon and look



386 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



forward to; and by and by a second scene
of amazed delight opened upon her.
Jessica had wandered far away from
home in the early darkness of a winter’s
evening, after a violent outbreak of her
drunken mother, and she was still sobbing
now and then with long-drawn sobs of
pain and weariness, when she saw, a little
way before her, the tall, well-known figure
of her friend Mr. Daniel. He was dressed
in a suit of black, with a white neck
cloth, and he was pacing with brisk
yet measured steps along the lighted
streets. Jessica felt afraid of speaking
to him, but she followed at a little dis-
tance, until presently he stopped before
the iron gates of a large building, and,

unlocking them, passed on to the arched



AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW DRESS. aT

doorway, and with a heavy key opened
the folding-doors and entered in. The
child stole after him, but paused for a
few mines, trembling upon the thresh-
old, until the gleam of a light lit up
within tempted her to venture a few steps
forward, and to push a little way open
an inner door, covered with crimson
baize, only so far as to enable her to
peep through at the inside. Then, grow-
ing bolder by degrees, she crept through
herself, drawing the door to noiselessly
behind her. The place was in partial
gloom, but Daniel was kindling every
gaslight, and each minute lit it up in
more striking grandeur. She stood in a
carpeted aisle, with high oaken pews on
each side, almost as black as ebony. A

gallery of the same dark old oak ran



388 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

round the walls, resting upon massive
pillars, behind one of which she was
partly concealed, gazing with eager eyes
at Daniel, as he mounted the pulpit steps
and kindled the lights there, disclosing
to her curious delight the glittering pipes
of an organ behind it. Before long the
slow and soft-footed chapel keeper disap-
peared for a minute or two into a vestry;
and Jessica, availing herself of his short
absence, stole silently up under the shelter
of the dark pews until she reached the
steps of the organ loft, with its golden
show. But at this moment Mr. Daniel
appeared again, arrayed in a long gown
of black serge; and as she stood spell-
bound gazing at the strange appearance
of her patron, his eye’ fell upon her,

and he also was struck speechless for a





































































































































































































AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW DRESS. 39

Se
minute, with an air of amazement and
dismay upon his grave face.

“Come, now,” he exclaimed, harshly, as
soon as he could recover his presence of
mind, “you must take yourself out of
this. This isn’t any place for such as
you. It’s for ladies and gentlemen; so
you must run away sharp before anybody
comes. However did you find your way
here?”

He had come very close to her, and
bent down to whisper in her ear, looking
nervously round to the entrance all the
time. Jessica’s eager tongue was loosened.

“Mother beat me,” she said, “and
turned me into the streets, and I see you.
there, so I followed you up. Tl run
away this minute, Mr. Daniel; but it’s a

nice place; What do the ladies and gen-



40 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



tlemen do when they come here? Tell me,
and Ili be off sharp.”

“They come here to pray,” whispered
Daniel.

“What is pray?” asked Jessica.

“Bless the child!” cried Daniel in per-
plexity. “Why, they kneel down in those
pews; most of them sit, though; and the
minister up in the pulpit tells God what they
want.’

Jessica gazed into his face with such an air
of bewilderment, that a faint smile crept over
the sedate features of the pew-opener.

* What is a minister and God?” she said;
“and do ladies and gentlemen want anything ?
T thought they’d everything they wanted, Mr.
Oantel.”

“Oh!” cried Daniel, “you must be off



AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW DRESS. 41

you know. They’ll be coming in a minute,
and they’d be shocked to see a ragged
little heathen like you. This is the pulpit,
where the minister stands and preaches
to ’em; and there are the pews, where
they sit to listen to him, or to go to
sleep, may be; and that’s the organ to
play music to their singing. There, I’ve
told you everything, and you must never
come again, never.”

“Mr. Daniel,” said Jessica, “I don’t
know nothing about it. Isn’t there a dark
little corner somewhere that I could hide
in?”

“No, no,” interrupted Daniel, impatient-
ly; “we couldn’t do with such a little
heathen, with no shoes or bonnet on.

Come now, it’s only a quarter to the



42 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

time, and somebody will be here in a
minute. Run away, do!”

Jessica retraced her steps slowly to the
crimson door, casting many a look back-
wards; but Mr. Daniel stood at the end
of the aisle, frowning upon her whenever
she glanced behind. She gained the lobby
at last, but already some one was ap-
proaching the chapel door, and beneath
the lamp at the gate stood one of her
natural enemies, a policeman. Her heart
beat fast, but she was quickwitted, and
in another instant she spied a place of
concealment behind one of the doors, into
which she crept for safety until the path
should be clear, and the policeman passed
on upon his beat.

The congregation began to arrive quick-





D

“ Once she ventured to stretch out,—’
Page 43.



AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW DRESS. £3

ly. She heard the rustling of silk dresses,
and she could see the gentlemen and
ladies pass by the niche between the
door and the post. Once she ventured to
stretch out a thin little finger and touch
a velvet mantle as the wearer of it swept
by, but no one caught her in the act, or
suspected her presence behind the door.
Mr. Daniel, she could see, was very busy
ushering the people to their seats; but
there was a startled look lingering upon
his face, and every now and then he
peered anxiously into the outer gloom and
darkness, and even once called to the
policeman to ask if he had seen a ragged
child hanging about. After a while the
organ began to sound, and Jessica, crouch-
ing down in her _hiding-place, listened

entranced to the sweet music. She could



44 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

not tell what made her cry, but the tears
came so rapidly that it was of no use to
rub the corners of her eyes with her
hard knuckles; so she lay down upon the
ground, and buried her face in her hands,
aud wept without restraint. When the
singing was over, she could only catch
a confused sound of a voice speaking.
The lobby was empty now, and the crim-
son doors closed. The policeman, also had
walked on. This was the moment to
escape. She raised herself from: the
ground with a feeling of weariness and
sorrow; and thinking sadly of the light,
and warmth, and music that were within
the closed doors, she stepped out into the
cold and darkness of the streets, and

loitered homewards with a heavy heart.



CHAPTEB IV.

EEPS INTO HAIRY HAND.













IV.

Leeps into Lrivy-Land,

CQ/{T was not the last time that Jes.
A sica concealed hersclf behind the
baize-covered door. She could not
overcome the urgent desire to enjoy again
and again the secret and perilous pleas-
ure; and Sunday after Sunday she
watched in the dark streets for the mo-
ment when she could slip in unseen.
She soon eee the exact time when

Daniel would be occupied in lighting up,

before the policeman would take up his
47



48 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

station at the entrance, and again, the
very minute at which it would be wise
and safe to take her departure. Some-
times the child laughed noiselessly to
herself, until she shook with suppressed
merriment, as she saw Daniel standing
unconsciously in the lobby, with his
solemn face and grave air, to receive
the congregation, much as he faced his
customers at the coffee-stall. She learned
to know the minister by sight, the tall,
thin, pale gentleman, who passed through
a side door, with his head bent as if
in deep thought, while the two little girls,
about her own age, followed him with
sedate yet. pleasant faces. Jessica took
a great interest in the minister’s chil-
dren. The younger one was fair, and

the elder one was about as tall as her-



PEEPS INTO FAIRY-LAND. 49

self, and had eyes and hair as dark;
but oh, how cared for, how plainly waited
on by tender hands! Sometimes, when
they were gone by, she would close her
eyes, and wonder what they would do
in one of the high black pews inside,
where there was no place for a ragged,
bare-footed girl like her; and now and
then her wonderings almost ended in a
sob, which she was compelled to stifle.
“Tt was an untold relief to Daniel
that Jessica did not ply him with ques-
tions, as he feared, when she came for
breakfast every Wednesday morning; but
she was too shrewd and cunning for
that. She wished him to forget that she
had ever been there, and by and by

her wish was accomplished, and Daniel



50 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

was no longer uneasy, while he was
lighting the lamps, with the dread of
seeing the child’s wild face starting up
before him.

But the light evenings of summer-time

were drawing near apace, and Jessica
foresaw with dismay that her Sunday
treats would soon be over. The risk of
discovery increased every week, for the
sun was later and later in setting, and
there would be no chance of creeping in
and out unseen in the broad daylight.
Already it needed both watchfulness and
alertness to dart in at the right mo-
ment in the grey twilight; but still she
could not give it up; and if it had not
been for the fear of offending Mr. Daniel,

she would have resolved upon going until



PEEPS INTO #AIRY-LAND. 51

she was found out. They could not
punish her very much for standing in
the lobby of a chapel.

Jessica was found out, however, before
the dusky evenings were quite gone.
It happened one night that the minister’s
children, coming early to the chapel, saw
a small tattered figure, bareheaded and
barefooted, dart swiftly up the steps be
fore them and disappear within the lobby.
They paused and looked at-one another,
and then, hand in hand, their hearts
beating quickly, and the color coming
and going on their faces, they followed
this strange new member of their father’s
congregation. The pew-opener was no-
where to be seen, but their quick eyes
detected the prints of the wet little feet

which had trodden the clean pavement



52 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

before them, and in an instant they dis.
covered Jessica crouching behind the
door.

“Let us call Daniel Standring,” said
Winny, the younger child, clinging to her
sister; but she had spoken aloud, and
Jessica overheard her, and before they
could stir a step she stood before them
with an earnest and imploring face.

“Qh, don’t have me drove away,” she
cried; “I’m a very poor little girl, and
it’s all the pleasure I’ve got. I’ve seen
you lots of times, with that tall gentleman
as stoops, and I didn’t think you’d have
me drove away. I don’t do any harm
behind the door, and if Mr. Daniel finds
me out, he won’t give me any more
coffee.”

“Little girl,” said the elder child, in a



| a 4 '













«O, don’t have me drove away.” Page 52.



PEEPS INTO FAIRY-LAND. 53

composed and demure voice, “we don’t
mean to be unkind to you; but what do
you come here for, and why do you hide
yourself behind the door?”

“T like to hear the music,” answered
Jessica, “and I want to find out what
pray is, and the minister, and God. I
know it’s only for ladies and gentlemen, .
and fine children like you; but I’d like
to go inside just for once, and see what
you do.”

“You shall come with us into our pew,”
cried Winny, in an eager and impulsive
tone; but Jane laid her hand upon her
outstretched arm, with a glance at Jes.
sica’s ragged clothes and matted hair. It
was a question difficult enough to perplex
them. The little outcast was plainly too

dirty and neglected for them to invite her



64 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

to sit side by side with them in their
crimson-lined pew, and no poor people
attended the chapel with whom she could
have a seat. But Winny, with flushed
cheeks and indignant eyes, looked re-
proachfully at her elder sister.

“Jane,” she said, opening her Testament,
and turning over the leaves hurriedly,
“this was papa’s text a little while ago.
‘For if there come into your assembly a
man with a gold ring, in goodly apparel,
and there come in also a poor man in vile
raiment; and ye have respect to him that
weareth the gay clothing, and say unto
him, Sit thou here in a good place; and
say to the poor, Stand thou there, or sit
here under my footstool; are ye not
then partial in yourselves, and are become

jedges of evil thoughts?’ If we don’t



PREPS INTO. FAIRY-LAND. 55

—1+

take this little girl into our pew, we
‘have the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ,
the Lord of glory, with respect of per-
sons.’ ”

“T don’t know what to do,” answered
Jane, sighing; “the Bible seems plain: but
I’m sure papa would not like it. Let us
ask the chapel-keeper.”

“Oh, no, no,” cried Jessica, “don’t let
Mr. Daniel catch me here. 1 won’t come
again, indeed; and I'll promise not to try
to find out about God and the minister,
if yowll only let me go.”

“But, little girl,” said Jane, in a sweet
but grave manner, “we ought to teach
you about God, if you don’t know him.
Our papa is the minister, and if you'll
come with us, we'll ask him what we must

do.”



56 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

“Will Mr. Daniel see me?” asked Jesst-
ca.

“Nobody but papa is in the vestry,”
answered Jane, “and he’ll tell us all, you
and us, what we ought to do. You'll not
be afraid of him, will you?”

“No,” said Jessica, cheerfully, following
the minister’s children, as they led her
along the side of the chapel towards the
vestry. .

“Tle is not such a terrible personage,”
said Winny, looking encouragingly, as Jane
tapped softly at the door, and they hward

a voice saying “Come in.”





CHAPTER VY.

A Ae Glorly Opens,











Vv.

A Hew World Opens.

/HE minister was sitting in an easy
O chair before a comfortable fire,

with a hymn-book in his hand,
which he closed as the three children
appeared in the open doorway. Jessica
had seen his pale and thoughtful face
many a time from her hiding-place, but
she had never met the keen, earnest,
searching gaze of his eyes, which seemed
to pierce through all her wretchedness

and misery, and to read at once the

59



60 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

+40

whole history of her desolate life But
before her eyelids could droop, o shs
could drop a reverential curtsey, the n.inis
ter’s face kindled with such a glow ol
pitying tenderness and compassion, at
fastened her eyes upon him, and gava
her new heart and courage. His chil.
dren ran to him, leaving Jessica upon
the mat at the door, and with eager
voices and gestures told him the diffi.
culty they were in.

“Come here, little girl,” he said, and
Jessica walked across the carpeted floor
till she stood right before him, with
folded hands, and eyes that looked frankly
into his.

“What is your name, my child?” he
asked.

“ Jessica,” she answered.



A NEW WORLD opens. 61

“ Jessica,’ he repeated, with a smile;
“that is a strange name.”

“Mother used to play ‘Jessica’ at the
theatre, sir,’ she said, “and I used to
be a fairy in the pantomime, till I grew
too tall and ugly. If I’m pretty when
I grow up, mother says I shall play too;
but I’ve a long time to wait. Are you
the minister, sir?”

“Yes,” he answered, smiling again.

“What is a minister?” she enquired.

“A servant!” he replied, looking away
thoughtfully into the red embers of the
fire.

“Papa!” cried Jane and Winny, in
tones of astonishment; but Jessica gazed
steadily at the minister, who was now
looking back again into her bright eyes.

“Please, sir, whose servant are you?”



62 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



“The servant of God and of man,” he
answered, solemnly. “Jessica, I am your |
servant.”

The child shook her head, and laughed
shrilly as she gazed round the room,
and at the handsome: clothing of the
minister’s daughters, while she drew her
rags closer about her, and shivered a
little, as if she felt a sting of the east
wind, which was blowing keenly through
the streets. The sound of her shrill,
childish laugh made the minister’s heart
ache, and the tears burn under his eye-
lids.

“Who is God?” asked the child.
“When mother’s in a good temper, some-
times she says ‘God bless me?’ Do you
know him, please, minister?”

But before there was time to answer,



A NEW WORLD OPENS. 63

the door into the chapel was opened,
and Daniel stood upon the threshold. At
first he stared blandly forwards, but then
his grave face grew ghastly pale, and
he laid his hand upon the door to sup-
port himself until he could recover his
speech and senses. Jessica also looked
about her, scared and irresolute, as if
anxious to run away or to hide herself.
The minister was the first to speak.

“ Jessica,” he said, “there is a place
close under my pulpit where you shall
sit, and where I can see you all the
time. Be a good girl and listen, and
you will hear something about God.
Standring, put this little one in front of
the pews by the pulpit steps.”

But before she could believe it for

very gladness, Jessica found herself in.



64 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

—+o- —

side the chapel, facing the glittering

organ, from which a sweet strain of
music was sounding. Not far from her,
Jane and Winny were peeping over the
front cf their pew, with friendly smiles
and glances. It was evident that the
minister’s elder daughter was anxious
about her behaviour, and she made ener-
getic signs to her when to stand up and
when to kneel; but Winny was content
with smiling at her, whenever her head
rose above the top of the pew. Jessica
was happy, but not in the least abashed.
The ladies and gentlemen were not at all
unlike those whom she had often seen
when she was a fairy at the theatre;
and very soon her attention was en-
grossed by the minister, whose eyes often

fell upon her, as she gazed eagerly,



A NEW WORLD OPENS. 65

with uplifted face, upon him. She could
scarcely understand a word of what he
said, but she liked the tones of his voice,
and the tender pity of his face as he
looked down upon her. Daniel hovered
about a good deal, with an air of un-
easiness and displeasure, but she was un-
conscious of his presence. Jessica was
intent upon finding out what a minister

and God were.









CHAPTER VI.

Che Mirst Weayer.











































































ie |.

f
"























THE



FIRST PRAYER.





VI.

She Sivst Layer.

Câ„¢ui@A HEN the service was ended, the
val minister descended the pulpit

steps, just as Daniel was about
to hurry Jessica away, and taking her by
the hand, in the face of all the congrega-
tion, he led her into the vestry, whither
Jane and Winny quickly followed them.
He was fatigued with the services of the
day, and his pale face was paler than
ever, as he placed Jessica before his chair,
into which he threw himself with an air

of exhaustion; but bowing his head upon
69



70 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

his hands, he said in a low but clear tone,
“Lord, these are the lambs of thy flock.
Help me to feed thy lambs!”

“Children,” he said, with a smile upon
his weary face, “it is no easy thing to
know God. But this one thing we know,
that he is our Father—my Father and
your Father, Jessica. He loves you, and
cares for you more than I do for my little
girls here.”

He smiled at them and they at him, with
an expression which Jessica felt and un-
derstood, though it made her sad. She
trembled a little, and the minister’s ear
caught the sound of a faint though bitter
sob.

“YT never had any father,” she said,
sorrowfully.

“God is your Father,” he answered,



THE FIRST PRAYER. 71



very gently; “he knows all about you,
because he is present everywhere. Wo
cannot see him, but we have only to
speak, and he hears us, and we may ask
him for whatever we want.”

“Will he let me speak to him, as well
as these fine children that are clean, and
have got nice clothes?” asked Jessica,
glancing anxiously at her muddy feet, and
her soiled and tattered frock.

“Yes,” said the minister, smiling, yet
sighing at the same time; “you may ask
him this moment for what you want.”

Jessica gazed round the room with
large, wide-open eyes, as if she were seek-
ing to see God; but then she shut her
eyelids tightly, and bending her head upon
her hands, as she had seen the minister

do, she said, “O God! I want to know



72 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

SRSA anenneed

about you. And please pay Mr. Daniel
for all the warm coffee he’s give me.”
Jane and Winny listened with faces of
unutterable amazement; but the tears
stoed in the minister’s eyes, and he added

“Amen” to Jessica’s first prayer.





CHAPTER Vil.

— Sash Questions.

BEERS









VII.

Hard Onuestions.

ANIEL had no opportunity for speak-

| ing to Jessica; for, after waiting
until the minister left the vestry,

he found that she had gone away by the
side entrance. He had to wait, therefore,
until Wednesday morning, and the sight
of her pinched little face was welcome to
him, when he saw it looking wistfully over
the coffee-stall. Yet he had made up his
mind to forbid her to come again, and

to threaten her with the policeman if he
15



%6 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

ever caught her at the chapel, where for
the future he intended to keep a sharper
look-out. But before he could speak Jess
had slipped under the stall, and taken her
old seat upon the up-turned basket.

“Mr. Daniel,” she said, “has God paid
you for my sups of coffee yet.”

“Paid me?” he repeated, “God? No.”

“Well, he will,” she answered, nodding
her head sagely; “don’t you be afraid for
your money, Mr. Daniel; I’ve asked him a
many times, and the minister says he’s
sure to do it.”

“Jess,” said Daniel, sternly, “have you
been and told the minister about my
coffee-stall ?”

“No,” she answered, with a beaming

smile, “but I’ve told God lots and lots of



HARD QUESTIONS. TT

times since Sunday, and he’s sure to pay
in a day or two.”

“Jess,” continued Daniel, more gently,
“you’re a sharp little girl, I see; and now
I’m going to trust you. You're never to
say a word about me or my coffee-stall;
because the folks at our chapel are very
grand, and might think it low and mean
of me to keep a coffee-stall. Very likely
they’d say I mustn’t be chapel-keeper any
longer, and I should lose a deal of
money.”

“Why do you keep the stall then?”
asked Jessica.

“Don’t you see what a many pennies
I get every morning?” he said, shaking
his canvas bag. “I get a good deal of

money that way in a year.”



78 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

“What do you want such a deal of
money for?” she enquired; “do you give
it to God?”

Daniel. did not answer, but the ques
tion went to his heart like a sword
thrust. What did he want so much
money for? He thought of his one bare
and solitary room, where he lodged
alone, a good way from the railway-bridge,
with very few comforts in it, but con-
taining a desk, strongly and_ securely
fastened, in which was his savings’ bank
book and his receipts for money put out
at interest, and a bag of sovereigns, for
which he had been toiling and slaving
both on Sundays and week-days. He
could not remember giving anything away,
except the dregs of the coffee and the

stale buns, for which Jessica was ask



HARD QUESTIONS. 79

ing God to pay him. He coughed, and
cleared his throat, and rubbed his eyes;
and then, with nervous and _ hesitating
fingers, he took a penny from his bag,
and slipped it into Jessica’s hand.

“No, no, Mr. Dan’el,” she said; “I
don’t want you to give me any of your
pennies. I wan God to pay you.”

“Ay, he'll pay me,” muttered Daniel; .
“there’ll be a day of reckoning by and
by.”

“Does God have reckoning days?”
asked Jessica. “I used to like reckoning
days when I was a fairy.”

“Ay, ay,’ he answered, “but there’s
few folks like God’s reckoning days.”

“But you'll be glad, won’t you?” she
said.

Daniel bade her get on with her break



80 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

fast, and then he turned over in _ his
mind the thoughts which her questions
had awakened. Conscience told him he
would not be glad to meet God’s reckon.
ing day.

“Mr. Dan’el,” said Jessica, when they
Gok about to separate, and he would
not take back his gift of a penny, “if
you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to come and
buy a cup of coffee to-morrow, like a
customer, you know: and I won’t let
out a word about the stall to the minis.
ter next Sunday, don’t you be afraid.”

She tied the penny carefully into a
corner of her rags, and with a cheerful
smile upon her thin face, she glided
from under the shadow of the bridge,

and was soon lost to Daniel’s sight.



CHAPTER V0.

ne

An Unexpected Visitor.









VIII.

An Unexpected Visiter.

Culm“ HEN Jessica came to the street
val into which the court where

she lived opened, she saw an
unusual degree of excitement among the
inhabitants, a group of whom were gath-
ered about a:tall gentleman, whom she
recognized in an instant to be the minister.
She elbowed her way through the midst
of them, and the minister’s face brightened
as she presented herself before him. He

followed her up the low entry, across the
83



84. JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



squalid court, through the stable, empty
of the donkeys just then, up the creaking
rounds of the ladder, and into the miser-
able loft, where the tiles were falling in,
and the broken window-panes were stuffed
with rags and paper. Near to the old
rusty stove, which served as a grate when
there was any fire, there was a short
board laid across some bricks, and upon
this the minister took his seat, while
Jessica sat upon the floor before him.

“ Jessica,” he said, sadly, “is this where
you live?”

“Yes,” she answered, “but we’d a
nicer room than this when I was a fairy,
and mother played at the theatre; we
shall be better off when I’m grown up,
if I’m pretty enough to play like her.”

“My child,’ he said, “I’m come to



CL,

aa.



* he said sadly.

SS1Cé

“Jo



AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 85

ask your mother to let you go to school
in a pleasant place down in the coun-
try. Will she let you go?”

“No,” answered Jessica, “mother says
she’ll never let me lcarn to read, or go
to church; she says it would make me
good for nothing. But please, sir, she
doesn’t know anything about your church,
it’s such a long way off, and she hasn’t
found me out yet. She always gets very
drunk of a Sunday.”

The child spoke simply, and as if all
she said was a matter of course; but the
minister shuddered, and he looked through
the broken window to the little patch
of gloomy sky overhead.

“What can I do?” he cried mournful-
ly, as though speaking to himself.

“Nothing, please sir,’ said Jessica,



86 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

“only let me come to hear you of a
Sunday, and tell me about God. If you
was to give me fine clothes like your
little girls, mother’ud only pawn them
for gin. You can’t do anything more
for me.”

“Where is your mother?” he asked.

“Out on a spree,” said Jessica, “and
she won't be home for a day or two.
She’d not hearken to you, sir. There’s
the missionary came, and she pushed him
down the ladder, till he was nearly
killed. They used to call mother the
Vixen at the theatre, and nobody durst
say a word to hey.”
. The minister was silent for some min-
utes, thinking painful thoughts, for his
eyes seemed to darken as he looked

round the miserable room, and his faca



AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 87

——1 0

wore an air of sorrow and disappoint
ment. At last he spoke again.
“Who is Mr. Daniel, Jessica?” he in-
quired.

“Oh, she said, cunningly, “he’s only a
friend of mine as gives me sups of coffee.
You don’t know all the folks in London,

sir!”

“No,” he answered, smiling, “but does
he keep a coffee-stall?”

Jessica nodded her head, but did not
trust herself to speak.

“How much does a cup of coffee cost?”
asked the minister.
“A full cup’s a penny,” she answered,
promptly; “but you can have half a cup;
and there are halfpenny and penny buns.”

“Good coffee and buns?” he said, with
another smile.



88 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

“Prime!” replied Jessica, smacking her
lips.

“Well,” continued the minister, “tell
your friend to give you a full cup of
coffee and a penny bun every morning,
and T’ll pay for them as often as he
chooses to come to me for the money.”

Jessica’s face beamed with delight, but
in an instant it clouded over as she
recollected Daniel’s secret, and her lips
quivered as she spoke her disappointed
reply.

“ Please, an she said, “I’m sure he
couldn’t come; oh! he couldn’t. It’s such
« long way, and Mr. Daniel has plenty of
customers. No, he never would come to
you for the money.”

“ Jessica,” he answered, “I will tell you

what I will do. I will trust you with a



AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 89



shilling every Sunday, if you'll promise to
give it to your friend the very first time
you see him. I shall be sure to know if
you cheat me.” And the keen, piercing
eyes of the minister looked down into
Jessica’s, and once more the tender and
pitying smile returned to his face.

“J can do nothing else for you?” he
said, in a tone of mingled sorrow and
questioning.

“No, minister,” answered Jessica, “ only
tell me about God.”

cor will tell you one thing about him
now,” he replied. “If I took you to
live in my house with my little daugh-
ters, you would have to be washed and
clothed in new clothing to make you fit
for it. God wanted us to go and live

at bome with him in heaven, but we



BO JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

were so sinful that we could never have
been fit for it. So he sent his own Son to
live amongst us, and die for us, to wash
us from our sins, and to give us new
clothing, and to make us ready to live
in God’s house. When you ask God
for anything, you must say ‘For Jesus
Christ’s sake.’ Jesus Christ is the Son
of God.”

After these words the minister care-
fully descended the ladder, followed by
Jessica’s bare and nimble feet, and she
led him by the nearest way into one
of the great thoroughfares of the city,
where he said good-bye to her, adding,
“God bless you, my child,’ in a tone
which sank. into Jessica’s heart. He had
put a silver sixpence into her hand to

provide for her breakfast the next three



AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 91



mornings, and, with a feeling of being
very rich, she returned to her miserable
home.

The next morning Jessica presented
herself proudly as a customer at Daniel’s
stall, and paid over the sixpence in ad-
vance. He felt a little troubled as he
heard her story, lest the minister should
endeavor to find him out; but he could
not refuse to let the child come daily
for her comfortable breakfast. If he was
detected, he would promise to give up
his coffee-stall rather than offend the great
people of the chapel; but unless he
was, it would be foolish of him to lose
the money it brought in week after

week.



Full Text
0,

FIR ST PRAYER


















FRONTISPIECE.
JESSICA’S

BOSTON:

PUBLISHED BY HENRY HOYT,
NO. 9 CORNHILL.




CHAPTER I.

Tue CoFFEE-STALL AND ITS KEEPER,

CHAPTER IL

JESSICA’S TEMPTATION, . . oe

CHAPTER III.
An OLp Frienp In A New DREss, .

CHAPTER IV.
PEEPS INTo Farry-LAND, . . .

CHAPTER V.
A New Wortp OPENS,. . «©

CHAPTER VI.
Tum First PRAYER, .». «© e« e



21
33 .
47
59

69
iv. CONTENTS.



CHAPTER VIL
Harp QUESTIONS, . . . °

CHAPTER VIII.

AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR, . .

CHAPTER IX,
Tuer First PRAYER ANSWERED, .

CHAPTER X,

Tur SHapow oF DEATH, «+ .



5

83

95

111
CHAPTER U.

The Goffes- Stall

AND ITS KEEPER.







HESSICA’S HIRST {DRAYER.

SSG
I

Che Gottee-Stall and iis Heeper,

GyYN a screened and secluded - corner

A of one of the many railway-bridges

which span the streets of Lon-

don, there could be seen, a few years
ago, from five o’clock every morning
until halfpast eight, a tidily set out cof
fee-stall, consisting of a trestle and board,
upon which stood two large tin cans,
with a small fire of charcoal burning

under each, so as to keep the coffee
8 ‘ JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



boiling during the early hours of the morn
ing when the work-people were thronging
into the city, on their way to their
daily toil. The coffee-stall was a favorite
one, for besides being under shelter, which
was of great consequence upon rainy
mornings, it was also in so private a
niche that the customers taking their
out-of-door breakfast were not too much
exposed to notice; and moreover, the
coffee-stall keeper was a quiet man, who
cared only to serve the busy workmen,
without hindering. them by any gossip.
He was a tall, spare, elderly man, with
a singularly solemn face, and a manner
which was grave and secret. Nobody
knew either his name or dwelling-place;
unless it might be the policeman who

strode past the coffee-stall every half
THE COFFEE-STALL AND ITS KEEPER. 9

hour, aud nodded familiarly to the solemn
man bebind it. There were very few
who cared to make any enquiries about
him; but those who did could only dis-
cover that he kept the furniture of his
stall at a neighboring coffee-house, whither
he wheeled his. trestle and board and
crockery every day, not later than half.
past eight in the morning; after which
he was wont to glide away with a soft
footstep, and a mysterious and fugitive
air, with many backward and_ sidelong
glances, as if he dreaded observation,
until he was lost among the crowds
which thronged the streets. No one had
ever had the persevering curiosity to
track him all the way to his house, or
to find out his other means of gaining

a livelihood; but in general his stall
10 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



was surrounded by customers, whom hae
“served with silent seriousness, and who
did not grudge to pay him his charge
for the refreshing coffee he supplied to
them.
For several years the crowd of work-
people had paused by the coffee-stall
_ under the railway-arch, when one morn-
ing, in a partial lull of his business, the
owner became suddenly aware of a pair
of very bright dark eyes being fastencd
upon him and the slices: of bread and
butter on his board, with a gaze as hungry
as that of a mouse which has been driven
by famine into a trap. A thin and meagre
face belonged to the eyes, which was half
hidden by a mass of matted hair hanging
over the forehead, and down the neck;

the only covering which the head or neck
THE COFFEE-STALL AND ITS KEEPER. 11

had, for a tattered frock, scarcely fastened
together with broken strings, was slipping
down over the shivering shoulders of the
little girl. Stooping down to a basket
behind his stall, he caught sight of .two
bare little feet curling up from the damp
pavement, as the child lifted up first one
and then the other, and laid them one
over another to gain a momentary feeling
of warmth. Whoever the wretched child
was, she did not speak; only at every
steaming cupful which he poured out of
his can, her dark eyes gleamed hungrily,
and he could hear her smack her thin
lips, as if in fancy she was tasting the
warm and fragrant coffee.

“Oh, come now!” he said at last, when

only one boy was left taking his breakfast
12 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

leisurely, and he leaned over his stall to
speak in a low and quiet tone, “why
don’t you go away, little girl? Come,
come; you're staying too long, you know.”

“I’m just going, sir,” she answered,
shrugging her small shoulders to draw
her frock up higher about her neck;
“only it’s raining cats and dogs outside;
and mother’s been away all night, and she
took the key with her; and it’s so nice
to smell the coffee; and the police have
left off worriting me while I’ve been here.
He thinks I’m a customer taking my break-
fast.” And the child laughed a shrill little
laugh of mockery at herself and the police-
mau.

“You’ve had no breakfast, I suppose,”

said the coffee-stall keeper, in the same
THE COFFEE-STALL AND ITS KEEPER. 13

low and confidential voice, and leaning
over his stall till his face nearly touched

the thin, sharp features of the child.
“No,” she replied, coolly, “and I shall

want my dinner dreadful bad afore I get
it, I know. You don’t often feel dreadful
hungry, do you, sir? I’m not griped yet,
you know; but afore I taste my dinner
itll be pretty bad, I tell you. Ah! very
bad indeed!”

She turned away with a knowing nod,
as much as to say she had one experience
in life to which he was quite a stranger;
but before she had gone half a dozen
steps, she heard the quiet voice calling to
her in rather louder tones, and in an in-
stant she was back at the stall.

“Slip in here,” said the owner, in a

cautious whisper; “here’s a little coffee
14 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

left and a few crusts. There, you must
never come again, you know. I never
give to beggars; and if you’d begged, I’d
have called the police. There; put your
poor feet towards the fire. Now, aren’t
you comfortable?”

The child looked up with a face of in-
tense satisfaction. She was seated upon
an empty basket, with her feet near the
pan of charcoal, and a cup of steaming
coffee on her lap; but her mouth was too
full for her to reply, except by a very
deep nod, which expressed unbounded de-
light. The man was busy for awhile
packing up his crockery: but every now
and then he stooped to look down upon
her, and to shake his head gravely.

“What's your name?” he asked, at

length; “but there, never mind! I don’t
THE COFFEE-STALL AND ITS KEEPER. 15



care what it is. What’s your name to
do with: me, I wonder?”

“Tt’s Jessica,’ said the girl: “but
mother and everybody calls me Jess.
You’d be tired of being called Jess,
if you was me. It’s Jess here, and
Jess there; and Srey wanting me
to go errands, And they think nothing
of giving me smacks, and kicks, and
pinches. Look here!”

Whether her arms were black and
blue from the cold, or from illusage, he
could not tell; but he shook his head
again seriously, and the child felt en-
couraged to go on. .

“T wish I could stay here for ever and
ever, just as I am!” she cried. “ But

you’re going away, I know; and I’m
16 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



never to come again, or you'll set the —
police on me!”

“Yes,” said the coffee-stall keeper,
very softly, and looking round to see
if there were any other ragged children
-within sight; “if you’ll promise not to
come again for a whole week, and not
to tell anybody else, you may come once
more. I'll give you one other treat.
But you must be off now.”

“T’m off, sir’ she said, sharply; “but
if you’ve a errand I could go on, I’d
do it all right, I would. Let me carry
some of your things.”

“No, no,” cried the man; “you run
away, like a good girl; and mind! I’m
not to see you again for a whole

week.”
THE COFFEE-STALL AND ITS KEEPER. 17

—ro-—

“All right!” answered Jess, setting
off down the rainy street at a quick
run, as if to show her willing agree-
ment to the bargain; while the coffee-
stall keeper, with many a cautivus glance
around him, removed his stock-in-trade to
the coffee-house near at hand, and was
seen no more for the rest of the day

in the neighborhood of the railway-bridge.


CHAPTER QU.

Bessican s Cemptatt ot.

PORE


IL.

Jessie's Temptation.

HE bargain, on Jessica’s part, was
CG faithfully kept; and though the

~ solemn and silent man under the
dark shadow of the bridge looked out
for her every morning as he served his
customers, he caught no glimpse of her
wan face and thin little frame. But
when the appointed time was finished,

she presented herself at the stall, with

her hungry eyes fastened again upon
21
22 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

+o

the piles of buns and bread and _ butter,
which were fast disappearing before the
demands of the buyers. The business
was at its height, and the famished child
stood quietly on one side watching for
the throng to melt away. But as soon
as the nearest church clock had chimed
eight, she drew a little nearer to the
stall, and at a signal from its owner she
slipped between the trestles of his stand,
and took up her former position on the
empty basket. To his eyes she seemed
even a little thinner, and certainly more
ragged, than before; and he laid a whole
bun, a stale one which was left from
yesterday’s stock, upon her lap, as she
lifted the cup of coffee to her lips with
both her benumbed hands,
JESSICA’S TEMPTATION. 23

“What's your name?” she asked, looking
up to him with her keen eyes.

“Why?” he answered, hesitatingly, as
if he was reluctant to tell so much of
himself; “my christened name is Daniel.”

“And where do you live, Mr. Dan’el?”
she enquired.

“Oh, come now!” he exclaimed, “if
yowre going to be impudent, you’d better
march off. What business is it of yours
where I live? I don’t want to know
where you live, I can tell you.”

“J didn’t mean no offence,” said Jess,
humbly; “only I thought I’d like to know .
where a good man like you lived. You're
a very good man, aren’t you, Mr. Dan’el?”

“T don’t know,” he answered, uneasily;

“Tm afraid I’m not.”
24 JESSICA 8 FIRST PRAYER.

“Oh, but you are, you know,” continued
Jess. “You make good coffee; prime!
And buns too! And I’ve been watching
you hundreds of times afore you saw me,
and the police leaves you alone, and never
tells you to move on. Oh, yes! you must
be a very good man.”

Daniel sighed, and fidgetted about his
crockery with a grave and occupied air,
as if he were pondering over the child’s
notion of goodness. He made good coffee,
and the police left him alone! It was
quite true; yet still as he counted up the-
store of pence which had accumulated in
lis strong canvas bag, he sighed again
still more heavily. He purposely let one
of his pennies fall upon the muddy pave-
ment, and went on counting the rest busi-

ly, while he furtively ‘watched the little
JESSICA’S TEMPTATION. 25

girl sitting at his feet. Without a shade
of change upon her small face, she covered
the penny with her foot, and drew it in
carefully towards her, while she continued
to chatter fluently to him. For a moment
a feeling of pain shot a pang through
Daniel’s heart; and then he congratulated
himself on having entrapped the young
thief. It was time to be leaving now;
but before he went he would make her
move her bare foot, and disclose the penny
concealed beneath it, and then he would
warn her never to venture near his stall
again. This was her gratitude, he thought;
he had given her two breakfasts and more
kindness than he had shown to any fellow-
creature for many a long year; and, at the

first chance, the young jade turned upon

him and robbed him! He was brooding
26 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER

over it painfully in his mind, when Jessi-
ca’s uplifted face changed suddenly, and
a dark flush crept over her pale cheeks,
and the tears started to her eyes. She
stooped down, and picking up the coin
from amongst the mud, she rubbed it
bright and clean upon her rags, and laid
it upon the stall close to his hand, but
without speaking a word. Daniel looked
down upon her solemnly and searchingly.

“What's this?” he asked.

“Please, Mr. Daniel,” she answered,
“it qanped: and you didn’t hear it.”

“Jess,” he said, sternly, “tell me all
about it.”

“Oh, please,” she sobbed, “I never
had a penny of my very own but once;
and it rolled close to my foot; and you

didn’t see it; and I hid it up sharp;
i
}
HH]
i

iH x



“What's this? ” he asked.
JESSICA'S TEMPTATION. 27

and then I thought how kind you’d been,
and how good the coffee and buns are,
and how you let me warm myself at
your fire; and please, I couldn’t keep
the penny any longer. You’l]l never let
me come again, I guess.”

Daniel turned away for a minute, busy-
ing himself with putting his cups and
saucers into the basket, while Jessica
stood by trembling, with the large tears
rolling slowly down’ her cheeks. The
snug, dark corner, with its warm fire of
charcoal, and its fragrant smell of coffee,
had been a paradise to her for these
two brief spans of time; but she had
been guilty of the sin which would drive
her from it.. All beyond the railway
arch the streets stretched away, cold and

dreary, with no friendly faces to meet
28 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

hers, and no warm cups of coffee to
refresh her; yet she was only lingering
sorrowfully to hear the words spoken
which should forbid her to return to this
pleasant spot. Mr. Daniel turned round
at last, and met her tearful gaze, with
a look of strange emotion upon his own
solemn face.

“Jess,” he said, “I could never have
done it myself. But you may come here
every Wednesday morning, as this is a
Wednesday, and there’ll always be a cup
of coffee for you.”

She thought he meant that he could
not have hidden the penny under his
foot, and she went away a little saddened
and subdued, notwithstanding her great
delight in the expectation of such a treat

every week; while Daniel, pondering
JusSiCa’S TEMPTATION. 29

over the struggle that must have passed
through her childish mind, went on his
way, from time to time shaking his head,
and muttering to himself, “I couldn't
have done it myself: I never could have

done it myself.”


CHAPTER U0.

2 @
aun Oly Friend in Aetw Dress,

~ (ihr
PREM





IL.

An OW Lrieud in x Hew Dress,

mei EEK after week, all through
Gl the three last months of the

year, Jessica appeared every
Wednesday at the coffee-stall, and, after
waiting patiently till the close of the
breakfasting business, received her pittance
from the charity of her new friend. After
a while Daniel allowed her to carry some
of his load to the coffee-house, but he
never suffered her to follow him farther,

and he was always particular to watch her

out of sight before he turned off through
33
84 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

the intricate mazes of the streets in the
direction of his own home. Neither did
he encourage her to ask him any more
questions; and often but very few words
passed between them during Jessica’s
breakfast time.

As to Jessica’s home, she made no se-
cret of it, and Daniel might have followed
her any time he pleased. It was a single
room, which had once been a hayloft over
the stable of an old inn, now in use for
two or three donkeys, the property of
costermongers dwelling in the court about
it. The mode of entrance was by a
wooden ladder, whose rungs were crazy
and broken, and which led up through a
trap-door in the floor of the loft. The
interior of the home was as desolate and

comfortless as that of the stable below,
AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW DRESS. 35

with only a litter of straw for the bea.
ding, and a few bricks and boards for
the furniture. Everything that could be
pawned had disappeared long ago, and
Jessica’s mother often lamented that she
could not thus dispose of her child. Yet
Jessica was hardly a burden to her. It
was a long time since she had taken any
care to provide her with food or clothing,
and the girl had to earn or beg for
herself the meat which kept a scanty life
within her. Jess was the drudge and
errand-girl of the court; and what with
being cuffed and beaten by her mother,
and over-worked and ill-used by her nu-
merous employers, her life was a hard
one. But now there was always Wednes-

day morning to count upon and look
386 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



forward to; and by and by a second scene
of amazed delight opened upon her.
Jessica had wandered far away from
home in the early darkness of a winter’s
evening, after a violent outbreak of her
drunken mother, and she was still sobbing
now and then with long-drawn sobs of
pain and weariness, when she saw, a little
way before her, the tall, well-known figure
of her friend Mr. Daniel. He was dressed
in a suit of black, with a white neck
cloth, and he was pacing with brisk
yet measured steps along the lighted
streets. Jessica felt afraid of speaking
to him, but she followed at a little dis-
tance, until presently he stopped before
the iron gates of a large building, and,

unlocking them, passed on to the arched
AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW DRESS. aT

doorway, and with a heavy key opened
the folding-doors and entered in. The
child stole after him, but paused for a
few mines, trembling upon the thresh-
old, until the gleam of a light lit up
within tempted her to venture a few steps
forward, and to push a little way open
an inner door, covered with crimson
baize, only so far as to enable her to
peep through at the inside. Then, grow-
ing bolder by degrees, she crept through
herself, drawing the door to noiselessly
behind her. The place was in partial
gloom, but Daniel was kindling every
gaslight, and each minute lit it up in
more striking grandeur. She stood in a
carpeted aisle, with high oaken pews on
each side, almost as black as ebony. A

gallery of the same dark old oak ran
388 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

round the walls, resting upon massive
pillars, behind one of which she was
partly concealed, gazing with eager eyes
at Daniel, as he mounted the pulpit steps
and kindled the lights there, disclosing
to her curious delight the glittering pipes
of an organ behind it. Before long the
slow and soft-footed chapel keeper disap-
peared for a minute or two into a vestry;
and Jessica, availing herself of his short
absence, stole silently up under the shelter
of the dark pews until she reached the
steps of the organ loft, with its golden
show. But at this moment Mr. Daniel
appeared again, arrayed in a long gown
of black serge; and as she stood spell-
bound gazing at the strange appearance
of her patron, his eye’ fell upon her,

and he also was struck speechless for a































































































































































































AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW DRESS. 39

Se
minute, with an air of amazement and
dismay upon his grave face.

“Come, now,” he exclaimed, harshly, as
soon as he could recover his presence of
mind, “you must take yourself out of
this. This isn’t any place for such as
you. It’s for ladies and gentlemen; so
you must run away sharp before anybody
comes. However did you find your way
here?”

He had come very close to her, and
bent down to whisper in her ear, looking
nervously round to the entrance all the
time. Jessica’s eager tongue was loosened.

“Mother beat me,” she said, “and
turned me into the streets, and I see you.
there, so I followed you up. Tl run
away this minute, Mr. Daniel; but it’s a

nice place; What do the ladies and gen-
40 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



tlemen do when they come here? Tell me,
and Ili be off sharp.”

“They come here to pray,” whispered
Daniel.

“What is pray?” asked Jessica.

“Bless the child!” cried Daniel in per-
plexity. “Why, they kneel down in those
pews; most of them sit, though; and the
minister up in the pulpit tells God what they
want.’

Jessica gazed into his face with such an air
of bewilderment, that a faint smile crept over
the sedate features of the pew-opener.

* What is a minister and God?” she said;
“and do ladies and gentlemen want anything ?
T thought they’d everything they wanted, Mr.
Oantel.”

“Oh!” cried Daniel, “you must be off
AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW DRESS. 41

you know. They’ll be coming in a minute,
and they’d be shocked to see a ragged
little heathen like you. This is the pulpit,
where the minister stands and preaches
to ’em; and there are the pews, where
they sit to listen to him, or to go to
sleep, may be; and that’s the organ to
play music to their singing. There, I’ve
told you everything, and you must never
come again, never.”

“Mr. Daniel,” said Jessica, “I don’t
know nothing about it. Isn’t there a dark
little corner somewhere that I could hide
in?”

“No, no,” interrupted Daniel, impatient-
ly; “we couldn’t do with such a little
heathen, with no shoes or bonnet on.

Come now, it’s only a quarter to the
42 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

time, and somebody will be here in a
minute. Run away, do!”

Jessica retraced her steps slowly to the
crimson door, casting many a look back-
wards; but Mr. Daniel stood at the end
of the aisle, frowning upon her whenever
she glanced behind. She gained the lobby
at last, but already some one was ap-
proaching the chapel door, and beneath
the lamp at the gate stood one of her
natural enemies, a policeman. Her heart
beat fast, but she was quickwitted, and
in another instant she spied a place of
concealment behind one of the doors, into
which she crept for safety until the path
should be clear, and the policeman passed
on upon his beat.

The congregation began to arrive quick-


D

“ Once she ventured to stretch out,—’
Page 43.
AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW DRESS. £3

ly. She heard the rustling of silk dresses,
and she could see the gentlemen and
ladies pass by the niche between the
door and the post. Once she ventured to
stretch out a thin little finger and touch
a velvet mantle as the wearer of it swept
by, but no one caught her in the act, or
suspected her presence behind the door.
Mr. Daniel, she could see, was very busy
ushering the people to their seats; but
there was a startled look lingering upon
his face, and every now and then he
peered anxiously into the outer gloom and
darkness, and even once called to the
policeman to ask if he had seen a ragged
child hanging about. After a while the
organ began to sound, and Jessica, crouch-
ing down in her _hiding-place, listened

entranced to the sweet music. She could
44 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

not tell what made her cry, but the tears
came so rapidly that it was of no use to
rub the corners of her eyes with her
hard knuckles; so she lay down upon the
ground, and buried her face in her hands,
aud wept without restraint. When the
singing was over, she could only catch
a confused sound of a voice speaking.
The lobby was empty now, and the crim-
son doors closed. The policeman, also had
walked on. This was the moment to
escape. She raised herself from: the
ground with a feeling of weariness and
sorrow; and thinking sadly of the light,
and warmth, and music that were within
the closed doors, she stepped out into the
cold and darkness of the streets, and

loitered homewards with a heavy heart.
CHAPTEB IV.

EEPS INTO HAIRY HAND.







IV.

Leeps into Lrivy-Land,

CQ/{T was not the last time that Jes.
A sica concealed hersclf behind the
baize-covered door. She could not
overcome the urgent desire to enjoy again
and again the secret and perilous pleas-
ure; and Sunday after Sunday she
watched in the dark streets for the mo-
ment when she could slip in unseen.
She soon eee the exact time when

Daniel would be occupied in lighting up,

before the policeman would take up his
47
48 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

station at the entrance, and again, the
very minute at which it would be wise
and safe to take her departure. Some-
times the child laughed noiselessly to
herself, until she shook with suppressed
merriment, as she saw Daniel standing
unconsciously in the lobby, with his
solemn face and grave air, to receive
the congregation, much as he faced his
customers at the coffee-stall. She learned
to know the minister by sight, the tall,
thin, pale gentleman, who passed through
a side door, with his head bent as if
in deep thought, while the two little girls,
about her own age, followed him with
sedate yet. pleasant faces. Jessica took
a great interest in the minister’s chil-
dren. The younger one was fair, and

the elder one was about as tall as her-
PEEPS INTO FAIRY-LAND. 49

self, and had eyes and hair as dark;
but oh, how cared for, how plainly waited
on by tender hands! Sometimes, when
they were gone by, she would close her
eyes, and wonder what they would do
in one of the high black pews inside,
where there was no place for a ragged,
bare-footed girl like her; and now and
then her wonderings almost ended in a
sob, which she was compelled to stifle.
“Tt was an untold relief to Daniel
that Jessica did not ply him with ques-
tions, as he feared, when she came for
breakfast every Wednesday morning; but
she was too shrewd and cunning for
that. She wished him to forget that she
had ever been there, and by and by

her wish was accomplished, and Daniel
50 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

was no longer uneasy, while he was
lighting the lamps, with the dread of
seeing the child’s wild face starting up
before him.

But the light evenings of summer-time

were drawing near apace, and Jessica
foresaw with dismay that her Sunday
treats would soon be over. The risk of
discovery increased every week, for the
sun was later and later in setting, and
there would be no chance of creeping in
and out unseen in the broad daylight.
Already it needed both watchfulness and
alertness to dart in at the right mo-
ment in the grey twilight; but still she
could not give it up; and if it had not
been for the fear of offending Mr. Daniel,

she would have resolved upon going until
PEEPS INTO #AIRY-LAND. 51

she was found out. They could not
punish her very much for standing in
the lobby of a chapel.

Jessica was found out, however, before
the dusky evenings were quite gone.
It happened one night that the minister’s
children, coming early to the chapel, saw
a small tattered figure, bareheaded and
barefooted, dart swiftly up the steps be
fore them and disappear within the lobby.
They paused and looked at-one another,
and then, hand in hand, their hearts
beating quickly, and the color coming
and going on their faces, they followed
this strange new member of their father’s
congregation. The pew-opener was no-
where to be seen, but their quick eyes
detected the prints of the wet little feet

which had trodden the clean pavement
52 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

before them, and in an instant they dis.
covered Jessica crouching behind the
door.

“Let us call Daniel Standring,” said
Winny, the younger child, clinging to her
sister; but she had spoken aloud, and
Jessica overheard her, and before they
could stir a step she stood before them
with an earnest and imploring face.

“Qh, don’t have me drove away,” she
cried; “I’m a very poor little girl, and
it’s all the pleasure I’ve got. I’ve seen
you lots of times, with that tall gentleman
as stoops, and I didn’t think you’d have
me drove away. I don’t do any harm
behind the door, and if Mr. Daniel finds
me out, he won’t give me any more
coffee.”

“Little girl,” said the elder child, in a
| a 4 '













«O, don’t have me drove away.” Page 52.
PEEPS INTO FAIRY-LAND. 53

composed and demure voice, “we don’t
mean to be unkind to you; but what do
you come here for, and why do you hide
yourself behind the door?”

“T like to hear the music,” answered
Jessica, “and I want to find out what
pray is, and the minister, and God. I
know it’s only for ladies and gentlemen, .
and fine children like you; but I’d like
to go inside just for once, and see what
you do.”

“You shall come with us into our pew,”
cried Winny, in an eager and impulsive
tone; but Jane laid her hand upon her
outstretched arm, with a glance at Jes.
sica’s ragged clothes and matted hair. It
was a question difficult enough to perplex
them. The little outcast was plainly too

dirty and neglected for them to invite her
64 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

to sit side by side with them in their
crimson-lined pew, and no poor people
attended the chapel with whom she could
have a seat. But Winny, with flushed
cheeks and indignant eyes, looked re-
proachfully at her elder sister.

“Jane,” she said, opening her Testament,
and turning over the leaves hurriedly,
“this was papa’s text a little while ago.
‘For if there come into your assembly a
man with a gold ring, in goodly apparel,
and there come in also a poor man in vile
raiment; and ye have respect to him that
weareth the gay clothing, and say unto
him, Sit thou here in a good place; and
say to the poor, Stand thou there, or sit
here under my footstool; are ye not
then partial in yourselves, and are become

jedges of evil thoughts?’ If we don’t
PREPS INTO. FAIRY-LAND. 55

—1+

take this little girl into our pew, we
‘have the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ,
the Lord of glory, with respect of per-
sons.’ ”

“T don’t know what to do,” answered
Jane, sighing; “the Bible seems plain: but
I’m sure papa would not like it. Let us
ask the chapel-keeper.”

“Oh, no, no,” cried Jessica, “don’t let
Mr. Daniel catch me here. 1 won’t come
again, indeed; and I'll promise not to try
to find out about God and the minister,
if yowll only let me go.”

“But, little girl,” said Jane, in a sweet
but grave manner, “we ought to teach
you about God, if you don’t know him.
Our papa is the minister, and if you'll
come with us, we'll ask him what we must

do.”
56 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

“Will Mr. Daniel see me?” asked Jesst-
ca.

“Nobody but papa is in the vestry,”
answered Jane, “and he’ll tell us all, you
and us, what we ought to do. You'll not
be afraid of him, will you?”

“No,” said Jessica, cheerfully, following
the minister’s children, as they led her
along the side of the chapel towards the
vestry. .

“Tle is not such a terrible personage,”
said Winny, looking encouragingly, as Jane
tapped softly at the door, and they hward

a voice saying “Come in.”


CHAPTER VY.

A Ae Glorly Opens,





Vv.

A Hew World Opens.

/HE minister was sitting in an easy
O chair before a comfortable fire,

with a hymn-book in his hand,
which he closed as the three children
appeared in the open doorway. Jessica
had seen his pale and thoughtful face
many a time from her hiding-place, but
she had never met the keen, earnest,
searching gaze of his eyes, which seemed
to pierce through all her wretchedness

and misery, and to read at once the

59
60 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

+40

whole history of her desolate life But
before her eyelids could droop, o shs
could drop a reverential curtsey, the n.inis
ter’s face kindled with such a glow ol
pitying tenderness and compassion, at
fastened her eyes upon him, and gava
her new heart and courage. His chil.
dren ran to him, leaving Jessica upon
the mat at the door, and with eager
voices and gestures told him the diffi.
culty they were in.

“Come here, little girl,” he said, and
Jessica walked across the carpeted floor
till she stood right before him, with
folded hands, and eyes that looked frankly
into his.

“What is your name, my child?” he
asked.

“ Jessica,” she answered.
A NEW WORLD opens. 61

“ Jessica,’ he repeated, with a smile;
“that is a strange name.”

“Mother used to play ‘Jessica’ at the
theatre, sir,’ she said, “and I used to
be a fairy in the pantomime, till I grew
too tall and ugly. If I’m pretty when
I grow up, mother says I shall play too;
but I’ve a long time to wait. Are you
the minister, sir?”

“Yes,” he answered, smiling again.

“What is a minister?” she enquired.

“A servant!” he replied, looking away
thoughtfully into the red embers of the
fire.

“Papa!” cried Jane and Winny, in
tones of astonishment; but Jessica gazed
steadily at the minister, who was now
looking back again into her bright eyes.

“Please, sir, whose servant are you?”
62 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



“The servant of God and of man,” he
answered, solemnly. “Jessica, I am your |
servant.”

The child shook her head, and laughed
shrilly as she gazed round the room,
and at the handsome: clothing of the
minister’s daughters, while she drew her
rags closer about her, and shivered a
little, as if she felt a sting of the east
wind, which was blowing keenly through
the streets. The sound of her shrill,
childish laugh made the minister’s heart
ache, and the tears burn under his eye-
lids.

“Who is God?” asked the child.
“When mother’s in a good temper, some-
times she says ‘God bless me?’ Do you
know him, please, minister?”

But before there was time to answer,
A NEW WORLD OPENS. 63

the door into the chapel was opened,
and Daniel stood upon the threshold. At
first he stared blandly forwards, but then
his grave face grew ghastly pale, and
he laid his hand upon the door to sup-
port himself until he could recover his
speech and senses. Jessica also looked
about her, scared and irresolute, as if
anxious to run away or to hide herself.
The minister was the first to speak.

“ Jessica,” he said, “there is a place
close under my pulpit where you shall
sit, and where I can see you all the
time. Be a good girl and listen, and
you will hear something about God.
Standring, put this little one in front of
the pews by the pulpit steps.”

But before she could believe it for

very gladness, Jessica found herself in.
64 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

—+o- —

side the chapel, facing the glittering

organ, from which a sweet strain of
music was sounding. Not far from her,
Jane and Winny were peeping over the
front cf their pew, with friendly smiles
and glances. It was evident that the
minister’s elder daughter was anxious
about her behaviour, and she made ener-
getic signs to her when to stand up and
when to kneel; but Winny was content
with smiling at her, whenever her head
rose above the top of the pew. Jessica
was happy, but not in the least abashed.
The ladies and gentlemen were not at all
unlike those whom she had often seen
when she was a fairy at the theatre;
and very soon her attention was en-
grossed by the minister, whose eyes often

fell upon her, as she gazed eagerly,
A NEW WORLD OPENS. 65

with uplifted face, upon him. She could
scarcely understand a word of what he
said, but she liked the tones of his voice,
and the tender pity of his face as he
looked down upon her. Daniel hovered
about a good deal, with an air of un-
easiness and displeasure, but she was un-
conscious of his presence. Jessica was
intent upon finding out what a minister

and God were.



CHAPTER VI.

Che Mirst Weayer.





































































ie |.

f
"























THE



FIRST PRAYER.


VI.

She Sivst Layer.

Câ„¢ui@A HEN the service was ended, the
val minister descended the pulpit

steps, just as Daniel was about
to hurry Jessica away, and taking her by
the hand, in the face of all the congrega-
tion, he led her into the vestry, whither
Jane and Winny quickly followed them.
He was fatigued with the services of the
day, and his pale face was paler than
ever, as he placed Jessica before his chair,
into which he threw himself with an air

of exhaustion; but bowing his head upon
69
70 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

his hands, he said in a low but clear tone,
“Lord, these are the lambs of thy flock.
Help me to feed thy lambs!”

“Children,” he said, with a smile upon
his weary face, “it is no easy thing to
know God. But this one thing we know,
that he is our Father—my Father and
your Father, Jessica. He loves you, and
cares for you more than I do for my little
girls here.”

He smiled at them and they at him, with
an expression which Jessica felt and un-
derstood, though it made her sad. She
trembled a little, and the minister’s ear
caught the sound of a faint though bitter
sob.

“YT never had any father,” she said,
sorrowfully.

“God is your Father,” he answered,
THE FIRST PRAYER. 71



very gently; “he knows all about you,
because he is present everywhere. Wo
cannot see him, but we have only to
speak, and he hears us, and we may ask
him for whatever we want.”

“Will he let me speak to him, as well
as these fine children that are clean, and
have got nice clothes?” asked Jessica,
glancing anxiously at her muddy feet, and
her soiled and tattered frock.

“Yes,” said the minister, smiling, yet
sighing at the same time; “you may ask
him this moment for what you want.”

Jessica gazed round the room with
large, wide-open eyes, as if she were seek-
ing to see God; but then she shut her
eyelids tightly, and bending her head upon
her hands, as she had seen the minister

do, she said, “O God! I want to know
72 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

SRSA anenneed

about you. And please pay Mr. Daniel
for all the warm coffee he’s give me.”
Jane and Winny listened with faces of
unutterable amazement; but the tears
stoed in the minister’s eyes, and he added

“Amen” to Jessica’s first prayer.


CHAPTER Vil.

— Sash Questions.

BEERS



VII.

Hard Onuestions.

ANIEL had no opportunity for speak-

| ing to Jessica; for, after waiting
until the minister left the vestry,

he found that she had gone away by the
side entrance. He had to wait, therefore,
until Wednesday morning, and the sight
of her pinched little face was welcome to
him, when he saw it looking wistfully over
the coffee-stall. Yet he had made up his
mind to forbid her to come again, and

to threaten her with the policeman if he
15
%6 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

ever caught her at the chapel, where for
the future he intended to keep a sharper
look-out. But before he could speak Jess
had slipped under the stall, and taken her
old seat upon the up-turned basket.

“Mr. Daniel,” she said, “has God paid
you for my sups of coffee yet.”

“Paid me?” he repeated, “God? No.”

“Well, he will,” she answered, nodding
her head sagely; “don’t you be afraid for
your money, Mr. Daniel; I’ve asked him a
many times, and the minister says he’s
sure to do it.”

“Jess,” said Daniel, sternly, “have you
been and told the minister about my
coffee-stall ?”

“No,” she answered, with a beaming

smile, “but I’ve told God lots and lots of
HARD QUESTIONS. TT

times since Sunday, and he’s sure to pay
in a day or two.”

“Jess,” continued Daniel, more gently,
“you’re a sharp little girl, I see; and now
I’m going to trust you. You're never to
say a word about me or my coffee-stall;
because the folks at our chapel are very
grand, and might think it low and mean
of me to keep a coffee-stall. Very likely
they’d say I mustn’t be chapel-keeper any
longer, and I should lose a deal of
money.”

“Why do you keep the stall then?”
asked Jessica.

“Don’t you see what a many pennies
I get every morning?” he said, shaking
his canvas bag. “I get a good deal of

money that way in a year.”
78 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

“What do you want such a deal of
money for?” she enquired; “do you give
it to God?”

Daniel. did not answer, but the ques
tion went to his heart like a sword
thrust. What did he want so much
money for? He thought of his one bare
and solitary room, where he lodged
alone, a good way from the railway-bridge,
with very few comforts in it, but con-
taining a desk, strongly and_ securely
fastened, in which was his savings’ bank
book and his receipts for money put out
at interest, and a bag of sovereigns, for
which he had been toiling and slaving
both on Sundays and week-days. He
could not remember giving anything away,
except the dregs of the coffee and the

stale buns, for which Jessica was ask
HARD QUESTIONS. 79

ing God to pay him. He coughed, and
cleared his throat, and rubbed his eyes;
and then, with nervous and _ hesitating
fingers, he took a penny from his bag,
and slipped it into Jessica’s hand.

“No, no, Mr. Dan’el,” she said; “I
don’t want you to give me any of your
pennies. I wan God to pay you.”

“Ay, he'll pay me,” muttered Daniel; .
“there’ll be a day of reckoning by and
by.”

“Does God have reckoning days?”
asked Jessica. “I used to like reckoning
days when I was a fairy.”

“Ay, ay,’ he answered, “but there’s
few folks like God’s reckoning days.”

“But you'll be glad, won’t you?” she
said.

Daniel bade her get on with her break
80 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

fast, and then he turned over in _ his
mind the thoughts which her questions
had awakened. Conscience told him he
would not be glad to meet God’s reckon.
ing day.

“Mr. Dan’el,” said Jessica, when they
Gok about to separate, and he would
not take back his gift of a penny, “if
you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to come and
buy a cup of coffee to-morrow, like a
customer, you know: and I won’t let
out a word about the stall to the minis.
ter next Sunday, don’t you be afraid.”

She tied the penny carefully into a
corner of her rags, and with a cheerful
smile upon her thin face, she glided
from under the shadow of the bridge,

and was soon lost to Daniel’s sight.
CHAPTER V0.

ne

An Unexpected Visitor.



VIII.

An Unexpected Visiter.

Culm“ HEN Jessica came to the street
val into which the court where

she lived opened, she saw an
unusual degree of excitement among the
inhabitants, a group of whom were gath-
ered about a:tall gentleman, whom she
recognized in an instant to be the minister.
She elbowed her way through the midst
of them, and the minister’s face brightened
as she presented herself before him. He

followed her up the low entry, across the
83
84. JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



squalid court, through the stable, empty
of the donkeys just then, up the creaking
rounds of the ladder, and into the miser-
able loft, where the tiles were falling in,
and the broken window-panes were stuffed
with rags and paper. Near to the old
rusty stove, which served as a grate when
there was any fire, there was a short
board laid across some bricks, and upon
this the minister took his seat, while
Jessica sat upon the floor before him.

“ Jessica,” he said, sadly, “is this where
you live?”

“Yes,” she answered, “but we’d a
nicer room than this when I was a fairy,
and mother played at the theatre; we
shall be better off when I’m grown up,
if I’m pretty enough to play like her.”

“My child,’ he said, “I’m come to
CL,

aa.



* he said sadly.

SS1Cé

“Jo
AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 85

ask your mother to let you go to school
in a pleasant place down in the coun-
try. Will she let you go?”

“No,” answered Jessica, “mother says
she’ll never let me lcarn to read, or go
to church; she says it would make me
good for nothing. But please, sir, she
doesn’t know anything about your church,
it’s such a long way off, and she hasn’t
found me out yet. She always gets very
drunk of a Sunday.”

The child spoke simply, and as if all
she said was a matter of course; but the
minister shuddered, and he looked through
the broken window to the little patch
of gloomy sky overhead.

“What can I do?” he cried mournful-
ly, as though speaking to himself.

“Nothing, please sir,’ said Jessica,
86 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

“only let me come to hear you of a
Sunday, and tell me about God. If you
was to give me fine clothes like your
little girls, mother’ud only pawn them
for gin. You can’t do anything more
for me.”

“Where is your mother?” he asked.

“Out on a spree,” said Jessica, “and
she won't be home for a day or two.
She’d not hearken to you, sir. There’s
the missionary came, and she pushed him
down the ladder, till he was nearly
killed. They used to call mother the
Vixen at the theatre, and nobody durst
say a word to hey.”
. The minister was silent for some min-
utes, thinking painful thoughts, for his
eyes seemed to darken as he looked

round the miserable room, and his faca
AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 87

——1 0

wore an air of sorrow and disappoint
ment. At last he spoke again.
“Who is Mr. Daniel, Jessica?” he in-
quired.

“Oh, she said, cunningly, “he’s only a
friend of mine as gives me sups of coffee.
You don’t know all the folks in London,

sir!”

“No,” he answered, smiling, “but does
he keep a coffee-stall?”

Jessica nodded her head, but did not
trust herself to speak.

“How much does a cup of coffee cost?”
asked the minister.
“A full cup’s a penny,” she answered,
promptly; “but you can have half a cup;
and there are halfpenny and penny buns.”

“Good coffee and buns?” he said, with
another smile.
88 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

“Prime!” replied Jessica, smacking her
lips.

“Well,” continued the minister, “tell
your friend to give you a full cup of
coffee and a penny bun every morning,
and T’ll pay for them as often as he
chooses to come to me for the money.”

Jessica’s face beamed with delight, but
in an instant it clouded over as she
recollected Daniel’s secret, and her lips
quivered as she spoke her disappointed
reply.

“ Please, an she said, “I’m sure he
couldn’t come; oh! he couldn’t. It’s such
« long way, and Mr. Daniel has plenty of
customers. No, he never would come to
you for the money.”

“ Jessica,” he answered, “I will tell you

what I will do. I will trust you with a
AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 89



shilling every Sunday, if you'll promise to
give it to your friend the very first time
you see him. I shall be sure to know if
you cheat me.” And the keen, piercing
eyes of the minister looked down into
Jessica’s, and once more the tender and
pitying smile returned to his face.

“J can do nothing else for you?” he
said, in a tone of mingled sorrow and
questioning.

“No, minister,” answered Jessica, “ only
tell me about God.”

cor will tell you one thing about him
now,” he replied. “If I took you to
live in my house with my little daugh-
ters, you would have to be washed and
clothed in new clothing to make you fit
for it. God wanted us to go and live

at bome with him in heaven, but we
BO JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

were so sinful that we could never have
been fit for it. So he sent his own Son to
live amongst us, and die for us, to wash
us from our sins, and to give us new
clothing, and to make us ready to live
in God’s house. When you ask God
for anything, you must say ‘For Jesus
Christ’s sake.’ Jesus Christ is the Son
of God.”

After these words the minister care-
fully descended the ladder, followed by
Jessica’s bare and nimble feet, and she
led him by the nearest way into one
of the great thoroughfares of the city,
where he said good-bye to her, adding,
“God bless you, my child,’ in a tone
which sank. into Jessica’s heart. He had
put a silver sixpence into her hand to

provide for her breakfast the next three
AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 91



mornings, and, with a feeling of being
very rich, she returned to her miserable
home.

The next morning Jessica presented
herself proudly as a customer at Daniel’s
stall, and paid over the sixpence in ad-
vance. He felt a little troubled as he
heard her story, lest the minister should
endeavor to find him out; but he could
not refuse to let the child come daily
for her comfortable breakfast. If he was
detected, he would promise to give up
his coffee-stall rather than offend the great
people of the chapel; but unless he
was, it would be foolish of him to lose
the money it brought in week after

week.

CHAPTER 0X.

The Weayor Waswored.





IX.

Ghe Kirst Lrayer Auswered.

(HE barefooted and bareheaded child
might be seen, every Sunday even-
ing, advancing confidently up to

the chapel, where rich and fashionable
people worshipped God; but before taking
her place she arrayed herself in a little
cloak and bonnet, which had once belonged
to the minister’s elder daughter, and which
was kept with Daniel’s serge gown, so
that she piesented a somewhat more re-

spectable appearance in the eyes of the
95
96 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

congregation. The minister had no listener
more attentive, and he would have missed
the pinched, earnest little face if it were
not to be seen in the seat just under the
pulpit. At the close of each service he
spoke to her for a minute or two in his
vestry, often saying no more than a single
sentence, for the day’s labor had wearied
him. The shilling, which was always lying
upon the chimney-piece, placed there by
Jane and Winny, in turns, was immedi-
ately handed over, according to promise, to
Daniel, as she left the chapel, and so
Jessica’s breakfast was provided for her
week after week.

But at last there came a Sunday even-
ing when the minister, going up into his
pulpit, did miss the wistful, hungry face,

and the shilling lay unclaimed upon the
THE PIRST PRAYER ANSWERED. 97



vestry chimney-piece. Daniel looked out
for her anxiously every morning, but no
Jessica glided into his secluded corner, to
sit beside him with her breakfast on her
lap, and with a number of strange ques-
tions to ask. He felt her absence more
keenly than he could have expected. The
child was nothing to him, he kept saying
to himself; and yet he felt that she was
something, and that he could not help
being uneasy and anxious about her.
Why had he never enquired where she
lived? The minister knew, and for a min-
ute Daniel thought he would go and ask
him, but that might awaken suspicion.
How could he account for so much anx-
iety, when he was supposed only to know
of her absence from chapel one Sunday

evening? It would be running a risk, and,
98 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



after all, Jessica was nothing to him. So
be went home and looked over his savings’
bank book, and counted his money, and
he found to his satisfaction that he had
gathered together nearly four hundred
pounds, and was adding more every week.
But when upon the next Sunday Jes-
sica’s seat was again empty, the anxiety
of the solemn chapel-keeper overcame his
prudence and his fears. The minister
had retired to his vestry, and was stand-
ing with his arm resting upon the chim-
ney-piece, and his eyes fixed upon the
unclaimed shilling, which Winny had laid
there before the service, when there was
a tap at the door, and Daniel entered
with a respectful but hesitating air.
“Well, Standring?” said the minister,

questioningly. .
THE FIRST PRAYER ANSWERED. 99 ©

“Sir,” he said, “I’m uncomfortable
about that little girl, and I know you’ve
been once to see after her; she told me
about it; and so I make bold to ask
you where she lives, and I'll see what’s
become of her.”

“Right, Standring,” answered the min-
ister; “I am troubled about the child,
and so are my little girls. I thought of
going myself, but my time is very much
occupied just now.”

“T'll go, sir,” replied Daniel, promptly ;
and, after receiving the necessary informa-
tion about Jessica’s home, he put out
the lights, locked the door and turned
towards his lonely lodgings.

But though it was getting late upon
Sunday evening, and Jessica’s home was

a long way distant, Daniel found that
100 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

his anxiety would not suffer him to re
turn to his solitary room. It was of no
use to reason with himself, as he stood
at the corner of the street, feeling per-
plexed and troubled, and promising his
conscience that he would go the very
first thing in the morning after he shut
up his coffee-stall. In the dim, dusky
light, as the summer evening drew to a
close, he fancied he could see Jessica’s
thin figure and wan face gliding on before
him, and turning round from time to time
to see if he were following. It was
only fancy, and he laughed a little at
himself; but the laugh was husky, and
there was a choking sensation in his
throat, so he buttoned his Sunday coat
over his breast, where his silver watch

and chain hung temptingly, and started
“THE FIRST PRAYER ANSWERED. 101



off at a rapid pace for the centre of
the city.

It was not quite dark when he reached
the court, and stumbled up the narrow
entry leading to it; but Daniel did hesi-
tate when he opened the stable-door, and
looked into a blank, black space, in which
be could discern nothing. He thought
he had better retreat while he could do
so safely; but as he still stood with his
hand upon the rusty latch, he heard a
faint, small voice through the nicks of
the unceiled boarding above his head.

“Our Father,” said the little voice,
“please to send somebody to me, for
Jesus Christ’s sake, Amen.”

“I’m here, Jess,” cried Daniel, witha

sudden bound of his heart, such as he
102 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

had not felt for years, and which almost
took away his breath as he peered into
the darkness, until at last he discerned
dimly the ladder which led up into the
loft.

Very cautiously, but with an eagerness
which surprised himself, he climbed up the
creaking rounds of the ladder and entered
the dismal room, where the child was
lying in desolate darkness. Fortunately
he had put his box of matches into his
pocket, and the end of a wax candle, with
which he kindled the lamps, and in another
minute a gleam of light shone upon Jessi-
ca’s white features. She was stretched
upon a scanty litter of straw under the
roof where the tiles had not fallen off,

with her poor rags for her only covering;


“Oh!” she cried gladly. Page 103
THE FIRST PRAYER ANSWERED. 103

but as her eyes looked up into Daniel’s
face bending over her, a bright smile of
joy sparkled in them.

“Oh!” she cried, gladly, but in a feeble
voice, “it?s Mr. Dan’el! Has God told
you to come here, Mr. Dan’el?”

“Yes,” said Daniel, kneeling beside her,
taking her wasted hand in his, and parting
the matted hair upon her damp forehead.

“What did he say to you, Mr. Daniel?”
said Jessica.

“We told me 1 was a great sinner,”
replied Daniel. “We told me I loved a
little bit of dirty money better than a
poor, friendless, helpless child, whom he
had sent to me to sce if I would do her
a little good for his sake. He looked at

me, or the minister did, through and
104 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.



through, and he said, ‘Thou fool, this night
thy soul shall be required of thee: then
whose shall those things be which thou
hast provided?’ And I could answer him
nothing, Jess. He was come to a reckon.
ing with me, and I could not say a word
to him.”

“Aren’t you a good man, Mr. Dan’el?”
whispered Jessica.

“No, I’m a wicked sinner,’ he cried,
while the tears rolled down his solemn
face. “I’ve been constant at God’s house,
but only to get money; I’ve been steady
and industrious, but only to get money;
and now God looks at me, and he says,
‘Thou fool!’ Oh, Jess, Jess! You’re more
fit for heaven than I ever was in my

life.”
THE FIRST PRAYER ANSWERED. 105



“Why don’t you ask him to make you
good for Jesus Christ’s sake?” asked the
child.

“T can’t,” he said. “I’ve been kneeling
down Sunday after Sunday when the
minister’s been praying, but all the time
I was thinking how rich some of the car-
riage people were. I’ve been loving
money and worshipping money all along,
and I’ve nearly let you die rather than
run the risk of losing part of my earnings.
I’m a very sinful man.”

“But you know what the minister often
says,” murmured Jessica. ‘Herein is
love, not that we loved God, but that he
loved us, and sent his Son to be the pro-
pitiation for our sins.’”

“I’ve heard it so often that I don’t feel

it,” said Daniel. “I used to like to hear
106 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

the minister say it, but now it goes in at
one ear and out at the other. My heart
is very hard, Jessica.”

By the feeble glimmer of the candle
Daniel saw Jessica’s wistful eyes fixed
upon him with a sad and loving glance;
and then she lifted up her weak hand to
her face, and laid it over her closed eye-
lids, and her feverish lips moved slowly.

“God,” she said, “please to make Mr.
Dan’el’s heart soft, for Jesus Christ’s sake,
Amen.”

She did not speak again, nor Daniel,
for some time. He took off his Sunday
coat and laid it over the tiny, shivering
frame, aun was shaking ‘with cold even
in the summer evening; and as he did so
he remembered the words which the Lord

says he will pronounce at the last day of
THE FIRST PRAYER ANSWERED. 107

reckoning, “Forasmuch as ye have done
it unto one of the least of these my
brethren, ye have done it unto me.” Dan-
iel Standring felt his heart turning with
love to the Saviour, and he bowed his
head upon his hands, and cried in the
depths of his contrite spirit, “God be

merciful to me, a sinner.”



CHAPTER X.

—_—_——

Che Shadow of Death,









X.

The Shadow of Denth.

; HERE was no coffee-stall opened un-
A der the railway arch the follow-

customers stood amazed as they drew

ing morning, and Daniel’s regular

near the empty corner, where they were
accustomed to get their early breakfast.
It would have astonished them stiil more
if they could have seen how he was
occupied in the miserable loft. He had
intrusted a friendly woman out of the

court to buy food, and fuel, and all

1k
112 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

night long he had watched beside Jessi-
ca, who was light-headed and _ delirious,
but in the wanderings of her thoughts
and words often spoke to God, and prayed
for her Mr. Dan’el. The neighbor in-
formed him that the child’s mother had
gone off some days before, fearing that
she was ill of some infectious fever,
and that she, alone, had taken a_ little
care of her from time to time. As soon
as the morning came he sent for a doc-
tor, and, after receiving permission from
him, he wrapped the poor deserted Jes-
sica in his coat, and bearing her tender-
ly in his arms down the ladder, he car-
ried her to a_ cab, which the neighbor
brought to the entrance of the court.
It was to no other than his own soli-

tary home that he had resolved to take
THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 113

her; and when the mistress of the lodg:
ings stood at her door with her arms
a-kimbo, to forbid the admission of the
wretched and neglected child, her tongue
was silenced by the gleam of a half
sovereign, which Daniel slipped into the
palm of her hard hand.

By that afternoon’s post the minister

received the following letter : —

“ REVEREND SiR,

“Tf you will condescend to enter my
humble roof, you will have the pleasure
of seeing little Jessica, who is at the
point of death, unless God in his mercy
restores her. Hoping you will excuse
this liberty, as I cannot leave the child,
I remain with duty,

“Your respectful Servant,

“D. STANDRING
114 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

Oe

“P.S. Jessica desires her best love

and duty to Miss Jane and Winny.”

The minister: laid aside the book he
was reading, and without any delay
started off for his chapel-keeper’s dwell-
ing. There was Jessica lying restfully
upon Daniel’s bed, but the pinched fea-
tures were deadly pale, and the sunken
eyes shone with a waning light. She
was too feeble to turn her head when
the door opened, and he paused for a
minute, looking at her and at Daniel,
who, seated at the head of the bed,
was turning over the papers in his desk
and reckoning up once more the savings
of his lifetime. But when the minister

advanced into the middle of the room,
THE SHADOW OF Di#ATH. 115

Jessica’s white cheeks flushed into a
deep red.

“Oh, minister!” she cried, “God has
given me everything I wanted, except
paying Mr. Dan’el for the coffee he used
to give me.”

“Ah! but God has paid me over and
over again,” said Daniel, rising to receive
the minister. “He’s given me my own
soul in exchange for it.. Let me make
bold to speak to you this once, sir.
You’re a, very learned man, and a great
preacher, and many people flock to hear
you till I’m hard put to it to find seats
for them at times; but all the while,
hearkening to you every blessed Sabbath,
I was losing my sou!, and you never

once said to me, though you saw me
136 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

scores and scores of times, ‘Standring,
are you a saved man?’”

“Standring,” said the minister, in a
tone of great distress and regret, “I
always took it for granted that you were
a Christian.”

“Ah,” continued Daniel, thoughtfully,
“but God wanted somebody to ask me
that question, and he did not find any-
body in the congregation, so he sent
this poor little lass to me. Well, I don’t
mind telling now, even if I lose the
place; but for a long time, nigh upon
ten years, I’ve kept a coffee-stall on
week-days in the city, and cleared, one
week with another, about ten shillings:
but I was afraid the chapel-wardens
wouldn’t approve of the coffee business,

as low, so I kept it a close secret, and
THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 117

always shut up early of a morning. It’s
me that sold Jessica her cup of coffee,
which you paid for, sir.”

“There’s no harm in it, my good fel-
low,” said the minister, kindly; “you
need make no secret of it.”

“Well,” resumed Daniel, “the questions
this poor little creature has asked me, have
gone quicker and deeper down to my con-
science than all your sermons, if I may
make so free ag to say it. She’s come
often and often of a morning, and looked
into my face with those dear eyes of hers,
and said, “Don’t you love Jesus Christ,
Mr. Dan’el?’ ‘Doesn’t it make you very
glad that God is your Father, Mr. Dan’cl?’
‘Are we getting nearer heaven every day,
Mr. Dan’el?’ And one day says she, ‘Are

you going to give all your money to God,
118 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

Mr. Dan’el?’ Ah, that question made me
think indeed, and it’s never been answered
till this day. While I’ve been sitting be-
side the bed here, I’ve counted up all my
savings: 3977 17s. it is; and I’ve said,
Lord, it’s all thine; and I’d give every
penny of it rather than lose the child, if
it be thy blessed will to spare her life.’”

Daniel’s voice quavered at the last
words, and his face sank upon the pillow
where Jessica’s feeble and motionless head
lay. There was a very sweet yet sur-
prised, smile upon her face, and she lifted
her wasted fingers to rest upon the bowed
head beside her, while she shut her eyes
and shaded them with her other weak
hand.

“Our Father,” she said, in a faint whis-

per which still reached the ears of the
THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 119

minister and the beadle, “I asked you to
let me come home to heaven; but if Mr.
Dan’el wants me, please to let me stay a
little longer, for Jesus Christ’s sake,
Amen.”

For some minutes after Jessica’s prayer
there was a deep and unbroken silence
in the room, Daniel still hiding his face
upon the pillow, and the minister standing
beside them with bowed head and closed
eyes, as if he also were praying. When
he looked up again at the desolate and
forsaken child, he saw that her feeble
hand had fallen from her face, which
looked full of rest and peace, while her
breath came faintly but regularly through
her parted lips. He took her little hand
into his own with a pang of fear and

grief; but instead of the mortal chillness
120 JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.

of death, he felt the pleasant warmth and
moisture of life. He touched Daniel’s
shoulder, and as he lifted up his head
in sudden alarm, he whispered to him,
“The child is not dead, but is only

asleep.”

Before Jessica was fully recovered,
Daniel rented a little house for himself
and his adopted daughter to dwell in.
He made many enquiries after her moth-
er, but she never appeared again in her
old haunts, and he was well pleased that
there was nobody to interfere with his
charge of Jessica. When Jessica grew
strong enough, many a cheerful walk
had they together, in the early morn-
ings, as they wended their way to the

railway bridge, where the little girl took
THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 121

her place behind the stall, and soon
learned to serve the daily customers;
and many a happy day was spent in
helping to sweep and dust the chapel,
into which she had crept so secretly at
first, her great delight being to attend
to the pulpit and the vestry, and the
pew where the minister’s children sat,
while Daniel and the woman he employed
cleaned the rest of the building. Many
a Sunday also the minister in his pulpit,
and his little daughters in their pew,
and Daniel treading softly about the aisles,
as their glance fell upon Jessica’s eager,
earnest, happy face, thought of the first
time they saw her sitting amongst the

congregation, and of Jessica’s first prayer.


Shree SGY