Then there's heaven, where all the beauty is, and He has
promised to take you--yes, _you_--there by and by! Oh, you must not
complain because people won't believe that such a bad boy as you have
been has grown good so soon. Christ knows about it, so it's all right.
Just keep on trying, and one of these days folks will see that you mean
it; they _will_--God has promised. He has given you a lamp to light you.
Why have not you looked at it all this day?"
"Oh," said Tip, "I can't; I _can't_ be a Christian! I have not done right
nor felt right to-day. I almost hate the boys, and Mr. Burrows too. I
don't know what to do."
"Go on home," said Satan. "Let the lamp and these new notions and all
_go_! Christ don't care anything about _you_; such a miserable, wicked,
story-telling boy as you have been, do you expect Him to notice _you_?"
But Tip's hand was in his pocket, resting on his lamp, as he had learned
to call it; and the low, sweet voice in his heart was urging him to let
its light shine. He drew it out, and turned the leaves, and the same dear
Helper stopped his eyes at the words, "Fear not, for I have redeemed
thee; I have called thee by thy name; thou art _Mine_.
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