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Updated: May 19, 2025
Never for one moment did the idea occur to him that the robbery might be overlooked, the man reformed. Jamie's heart was as a little child's, but his head was hard enough. He had seen too much of human nature, of business methods and ways, to doubt what this thing meant or what it led to. He had been trying to look through Mercedes' eyes.
But Jamie's business was with the slave-catcher, not the slave. He found St. Clair standing by the gangway, and called him by name. The fellow started like a criminal; then recognizing the poor clerk, "Oh, it's you, is it?" "How is Mercedes?" stammered Jamie. "How the h l should I know? And what is that to you?" "But you will tell me where she is?" pleaded the poor old man.
But that was not all the good effect of Jamie's love for the truth. Within a few months, both father and mother had cast off the fetters of restraint, and were receiving for themselves with meekness and earnestness, that precious word which was able to save their souls. Had not Jamie made the very best use of his winter holidays? and was not his teacher richly rewarded for all her exertions?
One wonders if Jamie, at the day of judgment even, will remember it. Perhaps 'twill then be no more the sin he thought it. For Jamie's nature, like that of spiny plants, was sensitive, delicate within, as his outer side was bent and rough; and he fancied it, first, a selfishness; then, as his lonely fancy got to brooding on it, an actual sin.
But some divine necessity of life ever joins joy and sorrow together; and even as the brother and sister sat speaking of their happiness, Christina heard a footstep that gave her heart a shock. Andrew was talking of Sophy, and he was not conscious of Jamie's approach until the lad entered the house.
Jamie's one attack of croup yielded more readily to his mother's silent treatments than it ever had to hive syrup, and it was with a deep thankfulness, not unmixed with awe, that Mr. and Mrs. Hayden felt their little one at last free from his old, dreaded enemy. Never before had the children been so free from colds or ailments common to childhood, as this winter.
When Elsie released him he returned with alacrity to his adopted mother's side, and slid his hand into hers again. Yet she had found him, and all suspense and anxiety were at an end. She thanked Mrs. Verdon for her courtesy, learned that Jamie's home was in Portman Square, and then gave her own address in return, and went quietly away with her two companions. Arnold Wayne was left with Mrs.
With two boys carrying the rear end of each litter, and the other lads the skin, heart, liver and tongue, and the two rifles and the axe, they at length set out for camp. Night was falling and the first flakes of the coming snow-storm were felt upon their faces when finally the little white tents came in view. "There's no light," remarked David, who was in advance. "Jamie's savin' candles.
Next came Jamie, lame Jamie, who hobbled bravely forward on his crutches, his little white face pinched by pain, full for once with happy glow, and, as he placed them against the table, irresistibly Mary Cary's hand went out to his and she held it tight. "An original poem by Master James Jernigan," announced Mrs. McDougal, half rising from her seat and waving her hand in Jamie's direction.
Of Jamie's death I do not care to write. He went without many a dinner in order to buy a book. The Coat of Many Colors and Silva Robbie were two street preachers who gave the Thrums ministers some work. They occasionally appeared at the club. The Coat of Many Colors was so called because he wore a garment consisting of patches of cloth of various colors sewed together. It hung down to his heels.
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