"
Then came hot, thankful tears. Oh, precious words, sinking right into the
torn, troubled heart. Christ the Redeemer had called him by his name! He
was--yes, he _would be His_! He glanced around. Nobody was to be seen; he
was sitting in the hollow at the foot of the hill, and under the shade of
a low branching tree. And there he knelt down to pray; and Satan drew
himself away, for the spot around that kneeling boy was holy ground.
Tip's soul had gained the victory.
CHAPTER VIII.
"Freely ye have received, freely give."
Whether Tip felt it or not, there were some changes in his home. Mrs.
Lewis, though worried and hurried and cross enough, still was not so much
so as she had been.
The house was quieter, there was no cradle to rock, there were no baby
footsteps to follow and keep out of danger; she had more time for sewing.
Yet this very thing, the missing of the clinging arms about her neck,
sometimes made her heavy heart vent itself in short, sharp words.
But Tip had astonished the family at home,--it didn't require wonderful
changes to do it,--rather the change which they saw in him seemed
wonderful.
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