TALKS TO LITTLE FOLKS.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1190, 21 December 1894, Page 18

TALKS TO LITTLE FOLKS.

DO NOT DELAY; COME YOURSELF 5 NOW. Some people believe in God, but they put off coming to Him for mercy and grace until death is about to seize them. One night, the steamer Pacific struck some floating ice and sprang a leak. Being in danger, she fired minute guns and sent up rockets. The great steamer Arabia heard the signal of distress and steered to the Pacific. When near enough old Captain J udkins shouts through his speaking trumpet, “ What do you want ? Can I help you ?” The other captain shouts back through the darkness,“ We are in a sinking condition; stay by us until daylight.” The Arabia called out, “As the sea is calm, better let your passengers come aboard of us at once; shall I send my boats ?” " Oh, no.; thanks ; we are all right at present, but stay by US.” ~ ' ...

In the twilight, of the dawn Captain Judkins is on the bridge speaking to Mr Seymour, his first officer, and about quarter of a mile off is the Pacific. “We are losing time, Seymour!” “Yes, sir, but we can pull it up.” “The sun rises splendidly this morning, Seymour.” “Yes, sir, it is magnificent.” The captain turns to the - Pacific, gives an exclamation of surprise.. , “ I don’t see her ; the glasses please!” He looks. “ Send a man aloft.” In another moment a voice spunds from up in the air, “Aye, aye, sir?” Captain Judkins cries, “Can you see the Pacific?” Answer from above, “No, sir, nothing insight.” “ Look again.” “ Ay b, aye, sir.” “Do you see her ?” Voice from above, “ No, sir; there is nothing in sight.” “ Merciful heaven !” cries the captain, “ Seymour, while we were looking at the sun, only a moment or two, she must have gone down in the twinkling of an eye with every soul aboard !” In a little while, with tears running. down his bronzed cheeks, the old captain exclaims, “ And I could have saved them! awful! every soul lost, and I could have saved them! ” / ' 1 Little folks, do not delay asking your heavenly Father to take care of you; and then in sweet obedience you shall be kept in perfect peace until it is your time to enter His beautiful Home above. Let me show you a picture of the palace of the good King of kings. It is of white marble, built on garden terraces with, fruit trees and flowers of every tint. The steps are alabaster edged with gold, and the door is made of , transparent pearls framed in precious, stones. A very poor child, with patched but clean pinafore and bare feet, ascends the' steps and lifts her hand to pull the bell, but not being quite high enough to reach it, thumps with her closed hand on the door, and keeps on thumping like one in a great hurry on important business. A servant opens the door ; he is dressed in white velvet uniform' with gold on the seams, diamond buttons, a blue .silk sash,’and a cross of rubies on his breast. •i Does the good King live here,” the‘child asks, and before the servant recovers from his surprise, she is ascending the great stairs made of porphyry stone with a stair carpet of white silk, having a pattern of flowers and leaves. The servant follows and finds her knocking with her knuckle at the King’s private door, and her ear to the door to tell when he cries, “Come in.” But the King opens the door, and as the child is leaning on it she falls inside, -the King stooping to catch her, and he keeps her from falling. The servant observes that the King does not seem vexed or surprised, but pleased to ' see the poor child; After some time,

she comes out, and as the servant opens the pearl door, she exclaims, “He is the good King, after all; I knew he would look after mother, if I came my very own self! She reaches her home, and exclaims, “There, mother dear, I have been all by myself to the good King and no one hindered me ; and he took me by the hand and looked so beautifully into my face, and said, ‘ Little child, why didn t you come before to tell me about your dear mother ?’ and, mother, I shouldn’t at all wonder if the good King comes himself to see you ; he said he would see about it at once l” The mother, who is ill and almost starving, busies herself to straighten up the room and when she sits down, almost fainting with the exertion, a gentle knock is heard at the fehe opens it and recognises the King by his likeness at the top of the almanac which the grocer gave her as a New Year’s gift. He comes in and takes her hand, while she falls on her knees before him and bursts into tears. He raises her, leads her to a seat and tenderly says, “My daughter, you should have let me know before you became so low as I now find you!” She replies, ‘‘l thought, good King, I was much beneath your notice; I asked the minister to speak on my behalf.” The little child now ventured to say, “ Mother asked several people to speak to you, good King, because they wore the gold buttons with the cross on them, and wo never had any answeir, so I thought I would come to you my very own self; I knew the good King would be kind to mother.” Little folks, the good King is a picture of God; the little child is your voice, your own voice, in prayer. Come your very own self, and now !