A Little Phgrim

A Little Phgrim
2563

One sitmmer’s evening, ere the sun went down,
When city men were hustening from the town
To reach their homes-some near at hand, some far-
By snerting train, by omnibus, or car,
To be beyond the reach of city din
A tram car stopped, a little girl got in:
A cheery looking girl, schree four years old:
Although not shy, her manners were not bol bold:
But all alonel One scarce could understand
She held a little bundle in her hand- tiny handkerchief, with corners tied,
Tut which ald not some bread and butter hide;
A satin scarf, so natty and so neat
War o’er her shoulders thrown: She took her seat,
And laid her bundle underneath her arm,
And, suliing prettily, bu but yet so calm
Sae to the porter said: “May I sit here?” vered Instantly: “Oh, yos, my dear”
He answered And there she seemed inclined to make her stay,
While once again the tram went on its way
The tall conductor-over six feet high- Now scanned the travelers with a business eye,
But in that ere was something kind and mild
That thok the notice of the little child
A little after, and the man went round
And son was heard the old familiar sound
Of gathering pence, and slipping tickets, too- The tram was full and he had much to do
Your fare my little girl,” at length he said
She looked a moment, shook her little head
“I have no pennies; don’t you know,” said she,
“My fare is paid, and Jesus paid for me?”
He looked bewildered; all the people smiled
“I didn’t know: and who is Jesus, child?”
“Way, don’t you know, he once for sinners dled,
For little children, and for men, beatde
To make us good and wash us from our sin,
Is this his railway I am traveling in?
“Don’t think it is I want your fare, you know”
“I told you Jesus pald it long ago
My mother mother t told me just before she died
That Jesus paid when he was crucified;
That at the cross his railway did begin,
Which took poor sinners from a world of sin
My mother said his home was grand and fair;
I want to go and see my mother there:
I want to go to heaven, where Jesus lives
Won’t you go, too? My mother says he gives
A loving welcome Shall we be too late?
Oh, let us go before he shuts the gate!
He bids us little children come to him”
The poor conductor’s eyes felt rather dim
He knew not why-he fumbled at his coat,
And felt a substance rising in his throat
The people listened to the little child; ere in tears: the roughest only smiled:
Some were And some one whispered, as they looked amazed:
“Out of the mouth of babes the Is praised” he Lord pligrim,” said the little thing
“I’m going to heaven My mother used to sing
To me of Jesus and his Father’s love:
Told me to meet her in his home above,
And so today when aunt went out to ten,
And looking out, I could not father see, Ikut my bundle, kissed my little kit
(I am so hungry; won’t you have a bit),
And got my hat, and then fieft my home,
A little pilgrim up to heaven to roam:
And then your carriage stopped, and I could see,
You looked so kind I saw you beckon me:
I thought you must belong to Jesus’ train
And are you just going home to heaven again?”
The poor conductor conductor only shook his head:
Tears in his eyes, the power of speech had fled
Had conscience by her prattle roused his fears
And struck upon the fountain of his tears
And made his thoughts in sad confusion whirl
At last he said: “Once I’d a little girl;
I loved her much; she was my little pet,
And with great fondness I remember yet
How much she loved me But one day she died”
“She’s gone to heaven,” the little girl replied
“She’s gone to Jesus, Jesus pald her fare
Oh, dear conductor, won’t you meet her there?”
The poor conductor now broke fairly down:
He could have borne the hardest look or frown:
But no one laughed; but many sitting by
Beheld the scene with sympathetic eye
He kissed the child, for she his heart had won
“I am sleepy said the little one
“If you will let me
I’ll te here and wait Until your carriage comes to Jesus’ gate
Be sure you wake me up, and pull my frook
And at the gate give just one little knock,
And you’ll see Jesus there” “The strong man wept
I could but think, as from the car I stepped,
How oft a little one has found the road
The narrow pathway to that blessed abode:
Through faith in Christ has read its title clear,
While learned men remain in doubt and fear
A little chtid! The Lord oft uses such
To break or bend, the stoutest heart to touch;
Then by his spirit bid the conflict cease,
And once forever enter into peace,
And then along the road the news we hear
We’re going to heaven-that Jesus pald our fare