The bravest little girl in
all the world was here and shamed me out of my weakness
and," he added reverently, "I think God Himself steadied
my hand."
The old man looked up wondering.
"I believe you, Clay," he said simply.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE HARVEST
Tom went straight to his mother that morning and told
her everything--the party he had gone to, his discontent,
his desire for company and fun, and excitement, taking
the money, and the events of the previous night.
Mrs. Motherwell saw her boy in a new light as she listened,
and Tom had a glorified vision of his mother as she
clasped him in her arms crying: "It is our fault Tom,
mine and your father's; we have tried to make you into
a machine like we are ourselves, and forgot that you had
a soul, but it's not too late yet, Tom. I hate the money,
too, if it's only to be hoarded up; the money we sent
to Polly's mother has given me more pleasure than all
the rest that we have."
"Mother," Tom said, "how do you suppose that money happened
to be in that overcoat pocket?"
"I don't know," she answered; "your father must have left
it there when he wore it last. It looks as if the devil
himself put it there to tempt you, Tom."
When his father came back from Winnipeg, Tom made to him
a full confession as he had to his mother; and was
surprised to find that his father had for him not one
word of reproach. Since sending the money to Polly's
mother Sam had found a little of the blessedness of
giving, and it had changed his way of looking at things,
in some measure at least.
Pages:
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204