Part 7 (1/2)

And this was why he lingered in the kitchen,--not knowing just what to say. Kitty helped him.

”Tip,” said she, ”I suppose they sing over at that Sunday school, don't they?”

”I guess they do;” and Tip's eyes brightened. ”Ever so many of them sing at once, and it sounds grand, I tell you. They play the melodeon, too: don't you want to go and hear it?”

”Humph! I don't know. I don't suppose it will be any stupider than staying at home. I get awful sick of that. If I knew the way, maybe I would go.”

”Oh, I'll take you!” said Tip, in a quick, eager way. He wanted to speak before his courage failed.

So Kitty, in her stiff blue sunbonnet and green calico dress, went to Sabbath school. There was no mission cla.s.s for girls, so Mr. Parker sent her among the gaily-dressed little girls in Miss Haley's cla.s.s; but Mr.

Holbrook detained Tip.

”Edward, you intend to come to Sabbath school regularly, don't you?”

”Yes, sir.”

”Then I think we must leave your place in the mission seat to be filled by some other boy, and you may come forward to my cla.s.s.”

It is doubtful whether Tip will ever see a prouder or happier moment than that one in which he followed the minister down the long room to his _own_ cla.s.s. But when he saw the seat full of boys, his face grew crimson. At the end of the seat was Ellis Holbrook, the minister's son,--the boy who but a few days before had, he believed in his heart, told a wicked story about himself, and gained him a severe punishment. He did not feel as though he could sit beside that boy, even in Sabbath school. But Mr. Holbrook waited, and sit down he _must_. Ellis moved along to give him room, and disturbed him neither by word nor look during the lesson. But Tip's heart was full of bitterness, and he thought the pleasure of that morning gone. The lesson was of Christ and His death on the cross, and, as he listened, hard thoughts began to die out. The story was too new; it touched too near his heart not to calm the angry feelings and to interest him wonderfully.

As soon as school was dismissed, Mr. Holbrook turned to him. ”What disturbs you to-day, Edward?”

Tip's face grew red again. ”I--I--nothing much, sir.”

”Have you and Ellis been having trouble in school?”

”He has been getting _me_ into trouble,” spoke Tip boldly, finding himself caught.

Mr. Holbrook sat down again. ”Can you tell me about it, Edward?”

”He said I threw paper b.a.l.l.s, and Mr. Burrows whipped me; and I didn't.”

”Are you sure you didn't?”

”Yes, sir.”

”Did you say so at the time?”

”Over and over again, but he said he _saw_ me.”

”Edward, have you always spoken the truth? Is your word to be believed?”

Tip's eyes fell and his lip quivered. ”I've told a great many stories,”

he said at last, in a low, humble tone; ”but this _truly_ isn't one. I'm trying to tell the truth after this, and Jesus believes what I have said this time.”

”So do I, Edward,” answered Mr. Holbrook gently, even tenderly. ”Ellis was mistaken. But I see you are angry with him; can't you get over that?”

Tip shook his head. ”He got me whipped for nothing, sir.”