God only knows how blessed he could make us if we
would but let him! He pressed his violin-case to his heart, as if
it were a living thing that could know that he loved it.
Before he reached the town, the stars were out, and the last of
the sunset had faded away. Earth was gone, and heaven was all.
Joseph was now a reader, and read geology and astronomy: "I've
got to do with them all!" he said to himself, looking up. "There
lie the fields of my future, when this chain of gravity is
unbound from my feet! Blessed am I here now, my God, and blessed
shall I be there then."
When he reached the suburbs, the light of homes was shining
through curtains of all colors. "Every nest has its own birds,"
said Joseph; "every heart its own joys!" Just then, he was in no
mood to think of the sorrows. But the sorrows are sickly things
and die, while the joys are strong divine children, and shall
live for evermore.
When he reached the streets, all the shops he passed were closed,
except the beer-shops and the chemists'. "The nettle and the
dock!" said Joseph.
When he reached Mary's shop, he turned into the court to the
kitchen-door. "Through the kitchen to the parlor!" he said.
"Through the smithy to the presence-chamber! O my God--through
the mud of me, up to thy righteousness!"
He was in a mood for music--was he not? One might imagine the
violin under his arm was possessed by an angel, and, ignoring his
ears, was playing straight into his heart!
Beenie let him in, and took him up to the parlor.
Pages:
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639