As he
read about the Saviour and the children and the disciples who tried to
get in between them, and as he told us the story in his own simple
and beautiful way, and then went on to picture the home of the little
children, and the same Saviour in the midst of them, I felt my heart
grow warm, and I could easily understand the cry of the mother--
'Oh, mon Jesu, prenez moi aussi, take me wiz mon mignon.'
The cry wakened Slavin's heart, and he said huskily--
'Oh! Annette! Annette!'
'Ah, oui! an' Michael too!' Then to Mr. Craig--
'You tink He's tak me some day? Eh?'
'All who love Him,' he replied.
'An' Michael too?' she asked, her eyes searching his face, 'An' Michael
too?'
But Craig only replied: 'All who love Him.'
'Ah, Michael, you must pray le bon Jesu. He's garde notre mignon.' And
then she bent over the babe, whispering--
'Ah, mon cheri, mon amour, adieu! adieu! mon ange!' till Slavin put
his arms about her and took her away, for as she was whispering her
farewells, her baby, with a little answering sigh, passed into the House
with many rooms.
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