Charlie Scott, Unknown [best pdf ebook reader for android .txt] 📗
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All the impudence had faded out of Bob's face. "Oh, sir," he begged, clasping his hands in his earnestness, "please look over it this once. What shall I do if you turn me off? I dare not tell my mother; you know, sir, that she is ill, and what I earn is all we have. I deserve it perhaps, sir, but she doesn't—just this once!" he pleaded.
Mr. Carlton felt some one touch his sleeve; it was Charlie. "I beg your pardon, sir," said Charlie, in a low tone, "but will you please forgive him this time?"
Mr. Carlton looked at him with surprise. "Are you begging for him? have you forgiven him?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," answered Charlie. "I am very sorry I lost my temper so. I have been well taught, and perhaps he hasn't."
Mr. Carlton considered for a moment.
Bob could not hear what Charlie was saying, but he fancied from his manner that he was telling his wrongs, and a sullen, angry expression spread over his face.
"Come here, White," said Mr. Carlton. "I have consented to look over your bad conduct once more; but remember you owe it to this boy," putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder; "he has pleaded for you; he has returned you good for evil: see that you are not ungrateful." He then left them, after asking Charlie his name.
Bob stood still, feeling and looking very awkward. Charlie went up to him, and held out his hand. "You'll shake hands and be friends, Bob, won't you?"
Bob shook hands shyly, and turned away to his work without speaking; but Charlie fancied he saw tears in his eyes.
Soon after it was time for the men to leave. They came pouring out in all directions from the workings of the mine, and Charlie was kept busy. Hudson Brownlee came nearly last.
"How do you get on?" he asked kindly.
"Oh, pretty well; I'm getting more used to it already."
"Good-bye," said Brownlee, taking a step forward, and then standing still. "What was it you were saying about not being alone?" putting on a careless, off-hand tone.
"Oh," said Charlie, "I meant I should not feel lonely or afraid, because I knew God was with me. I remember father reading out of the Bible, 'Fear not, for I am with thee;' and I know it is true, don't you?"
"No," said Brownlee, thoughtfully, "I can't say that I do."
"If I had my Bible here, I think I could find the words directly."
"Ah," said Brownlee, "that's a book I don't know much about. You see I'm no scholar. I was careless about learning when I was young, and what little I did know I have almost forgot. It takes me such a while to spell out the words that I lose the meaning."
"What a pity!" exclaimed Charlie, "You see it's almost impossible to get on right at all without the Bible, because God tells us in it what we are to do, and what we're not to do," he went on impetuously. "I was just thinking, as we came along down here with our lamps, about that text, 'Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.' If we had not had lamps we should have been groping about in the dark, stumbling over things, knocking up against the props, hurting ourselves, and losing our way; but our lamps showed us the right path, and how to keep out of danger. And we should go groping and stumbling through the world in darkness, too, falling into all sorts of sin and temptation, hurting our souls, and losing ourselves altogether, if we had not the light of God's word to guide us."
"Where do you get all your learning from? you seem to know a deal for a boy," said Brownlee.
"Oh, father reads these things from the good book every day. I dare say he feels them comforting to himself when he's in the pit. Besides, I've been to a Sunday school."
"Well, they are true," said Brownlee, thoughtfully; he held up his lamp and looked at it. "For twenty years this has been the only sort of lamp I've troubled myself about, but please God, if it's not too late——" Charlie could not hear the rest, for he waved his hand and followed the other men.
At the end of the twelve hours Charlie was preparing to follow some men and boys to the shaft, when Bob White made his appearance. "It's rather queer," said Bob, shyly, "finding your way about here; will you go up with me?"
"Thank you," said Charlie heartily, setting off with him, and talking away as freely as he could to put Bob at his ease.
You may be sure Charlie was very glad to get home and rest after he had told his father and mother what he had seen and done. So ended his first day down the mine.
CHAPTER X. A NEW FRIEND.FTER the conversation with Brownlee about the Bible, Charlie took his pocket Bible down the mine regularly; his father wished him to read a little every day at his dinner-time. He was one of those people who never like to waste a minute, and in his dinner-time he managed generally to have something to read that was worth reading. Bob was really grateful to Charlie for interfering in his behalf, and lost no opportunity of showing it. It was astonishing how he improved: so much good in him that had been lying dormant was called out under Charlie's better influence. Sometimes he seemed half ashamed of his good behaviour, and would break out for a time into the old reckless way; but one night on their way home Charlie was talking in his own loving way about his dear father and mother, and their kindness to him; how his plans for being an engineer had been put aside by his father's illness; how he hoped soon to get more wages for their sakes, and so on, when in some unaccountable way Bob's whole nature seemed softened; and as if he could not help it, he poured out to Charlie his home troubles and all his old life; how he had fallen amongst bad companions, and grew up to be hardened and reckless, almost without even a wish to be better. Sometimes, when he saw Charlie and the other boys going to Mrs. Greenwell's class, looking so happy and clean and orderly, the wish that he was like them would creep into his heart; but he drove it away, and called after them with mocking words. All this and much more he told Charlie with tears streaming down his face, and his voice broken by sobs.
It almost frightened Charlie to see mocking, reckless Bob give way so completely. He was just wondering what he had better say to him, when Bob bid him good-night abruptly, and turned off home.
After that night Bob never again attempted to keep up his care-for-nothing-or-nobody tone before Charlie. He generally brought his dinner now to eat beside Charlie. The first time the Bible was brought out, when they had finished, which required a little courage at first, Bob got up and sauntered away; the second time he sat still and whistled popular song tunes in a subdued tone, while Charlie read to himself; the third time he sat quietly; the fourth day the Bible was brought out he shuffled about uneasily, and at last said, "You may as well read out if you must read; it's dull sitting here without anybody to speak to."
Charlie gladly agreed. "Let us read in turns," he said.
Bob did not object, for he read well, and was rather proud of it. After this the Bible reading was an established custom, and Bob got very much interested as he read the history of Joseph, Moses, and others. Hudson Brownlee, happening to pass one day, stopped to listen when he saw how they were occupied, and soon a third was added regularly to the little party. After a parable or any striking passage had been read they would each give their own idea of its meaning and teaching, spending much thought upon it in their eagerness to give it in the best and clearest way. Often during their work Hudson Brownlee, Bob, and Charlie too, would ponder over some passage they had heard or read, comparing the different opinions upon it, applying it, thinking it out, and turning it over in their mind, until some great truth would stand out from the rest, fixing itself immoveably in their hearts and understandings. And so this study of the Bible, begun without any real religious feeling (on Bob and Brownlee's part, at any rate), led them to higher things—to a knowledge of God's holiness, of their own sin and unworthiness, and their need of a Saviour.
But this was a work of time, and we must now go back a little in our history.
When Charlie had been two months down the mine as a trapper, he was advanced to a higher post and better wages as a putter. He might have had the increase of wages quite a month before, but he put off applying for the place until it was too late, and another boy had been appointed. Harry Greenwell lent him some elementary books on mechanics, for his old love for such things was as strong as ever, and now that he was putter he had many opportunities of examining the working of the engine stationed down the mine. Those were glorious days for Charlie when it was out of order, and the engineer had to come down; he would hover round him, holding the tools for the men, helping to lift or carry anything, glad of any excuse to be near. His questions were so sensible and thoughtful, and his suggestions sometimes, for a youth, so good, that the engineer became quite interested in him, and explained to him thoroughly the working of the engine, giving him really valuable teaching in mechanics; and this knowledge stood him in good stead, as you will hear.
On coming down to his work one morning he was surprised to find his favourite, the engine, at a stand-still. A number of the miners were near it, all talking together, trying to account for the accident, and deploring the absence of the engineer, who was away for a day or two's holiday.
Mr. Carlton, the viewer, looked vexed and annoyed; he was asking the overman to send to a mine a few miles off for their engineer. Charlie made his way to the engine, and soon saw what was wrong. It was not much, and he felt sure that if he had the help of a pair of strong arms he could get it into working order.
In his excitement he pushed his way to Mr. Carlton, and exclaimed, "I know what is wrong with her, sir; if you will just come and look, sir, I'll show you."
Mr. Carlton, surprised and amused, followed him, and Charlie, stooping down and pointing up, full of animation, explained so clearly and intelligently the nature of the misfortune, and how it might be remedied, that Mr. Carlton, no longer with the amused expression on his face, called to one of the men, "Come here, Shields, and help him."
In an hour's time Charlie's pet was working away as hard as ever.
"Well done, my boy," said Mr. Carlton; "tell me where you picked up all this knowledge."
The men were gone off to their work, and Mr. Carlton soon drew all Charlie's little history from him. He made no remark, excepting that when Charlie made his polite bow and turned off to his work, he asked him where his father lived.
In the evening, when Charlie got home, he thought his father and
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