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Updated: May 26, 2025
Look, father, dear, at my picsher. Is she inside by this time, do you think? How long does it take to go to heaven? Mr. Allonby took up his little son's picture and gazed at it with keen interest, then he put it down with a heavy sigh. 'Yes, she's there right enough, sonny. I don't doubt that. Shall we say a little prayer together you and I for I feel quite unable for what is before me.
She laughed, and a pink colour stole into her cheeks. Bobby's arms were tightly clasped round her neck. 'I never did forget you, he assured her, 'not before your letter came; and my picsher is lovelly. 'And who is this little girl? Is she your little step-sister? How delightful to have a playfellow. May I have a kiss, dear? True willingly submitted to be embraced.
Then he drew a long sigh of admiration as he held it up to her. 'Isn't it beautiful? 'Beautiful indeed, said Lady Isobel, gazing upon the richly illuminated page with enjoyment. I don't wonder you like it, Bobby; it is a dream of glory. 'It isn't a dream, it's a true picsher, corrected Bobby. 'Nurse says everyfing's true in the Bible. Please read me what it says underneath.
A Friend, a rest, a home, a crown, a song, a robe, and a harp with palms of victory. Bobby's attention was fixed for a time as the clergyman spoke of these one by one. He described heaven with all its glories, and Bobby nodded his head as he listened. 'Me and you have seen it, Nobbles, he whispered. 'We sawed it in the picsher.
Then True said: 'We'll never get there, Bobby. 'P'raps we shall pass some other white gates nearer home, he suggested. 'Why do you want them? asked their father. Bobby laid his hand on his coat sleeve impressively. 'They're so like the gates into heaven, father. Mr. Allonby looked startled. 'Have you been there, sonny? 'No; but I've seen them in a picsher. 'Well?
My grandmother has a beautiful Bible with beautiful picshers in it, and the picsher of the lovely gates says: "Blessed are they that wash their robes in the blood of the Lamb, that they may have right to the tree of life, and enter in frough the gates into the City." I learnt that tex'. Lady Isobel teached it to me. 'What's the tree of life? asked True.
'And now, he said, 'would you like to hear my news? Do you remember Lady Isobel, Bobby? 'Of course I do. She sended me a beautiful picsher of the gates. She's coming home from India very soon. 'Very soon, indeed! She arrived yesterday. 'Oh, Master Mortimer! Bobby's rapt tone made his uncle laugh. 'Why does Bobby always call you Master Mortimer? Aren't you his uncle? enquired True.
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