|“He looked at me, and then he smiled,
And said, ‘Your time will soon be come;
Be patient, little Christopher,
You’re going to a better home.’
“You know, last Sunday, at the school,
The lady told us how to pray,
And said, ‘that Jesus Christ had come
To die, and take our sins away.’
“And so I begged He’d take all mine,
And, Johnny, I believe He will;
And now I shouldn’t mind to die,
If we could be together still.”
“Oh! Christy, boy, you must not die;
What should I do without you here?
Oh! do get well – you must get well,”
And John brushed off a starting tear.”
|The winter passed, and spring-time came,
And summer days grew warm and long;
But little Christy weaker grew,
And soon could hardly creep along.
And then he stopped all day at home,
And soon he hardly left his bed,
And John was forced to leave him there,
To earn for both their daily bread.
Sometimes the lady at the house
Gave John some little jobs to do,
And when she found he did them well,
She sent him on her errands, too.
And now, when Christopher was ill,
And John was leaving for the night,
She gave them little dainty things,
To please his brother’s appetite.