Tip Lewis and His Lamp Part 9

"There is no place on the road so dark but this lamp will light you through, if you give it a chance."

This is what Mr. Holbrook had said when he gave Tip his Bible. And Tip had thought of his words very often, had already proved them true more than once; but he didn't see how it could help him now.

He took it out, and slowly turned the leaves; it couldn't write his composition for him, that was certain. But oh, the bright thought that came to Tip just then! Why not find his acrostic in the Bible, and write it out? among so many, _many_ verses, he would be sure to find what he wanted. But then, how very queer it would be for _him_, Tip Lewis, to copy anything from the Bible! What would the boys think? What would Bob Turner say? Still, what else could he do? Besides his spelling-book and a worn arithmetic, it was the only book that he had in the world.

"I don't care," he said suddenly, after a few moments of troubled thought. "I guess I ain't ashamed of my Bible,--it's the only thing I've got that I needn't be ashamed of. I'll _do_ it. The boys have got to know that I've turned over a new leaf. I wish they did; the sooner they know it the better. I say, my lamp shall help me out of this sc.r.a.pe, that's as true as can be; it helps me whenever I give it a chance."

He fumbled in his pocket and drew out an old stump of a pencil. The next thing was a piece of paper; he dived his hand down into another pocket, producing a rusty knife, pieces of string, a chestnut or two, and, finally, a crumpled piece of paper on which Bob Turner had scrawled what he called a likeness of Mr. Burrows, and given to Tip for a keepsake. He spread it out on a flat stone which lay near him, and began his work.

A long, slow work it was for Tip. Hours of that day, and the next, and the next, every day, until the fading light drove him home, did he sit under the elm-tree turning the leaves of his Bible, poring over its contents, writing words carefully now and then on his bit of paper.

Remember it was new work to him.

At last, one evening, the sun went down in the bright red west, the stars shone out in all their twinkling, sparkling glory, the shadows began to fall thick and fast around the old tree, when Tip, with a little sigh of relief, folded the precious piece of paper, laid it carefully away in his Bible, and turned his steps homeward. His acrostic was finished, and into his heart had crept some of the beauty of those precious words, which he had found for the first time. Words they were which would go with him through all his life, and sweetly comfort some dark and weary hours.

The school-books were all piled neatly on the desks that Friday afternoon; the shades were dropped to shut out the low afternoon sun; and forty boys were still and expectant. The acrostics lay in a great white heap on Mr. Burrows' desk, not a name written on any of them. Mr.

Burrows was to read, and the boys were to have the pleasure of spelling out the names of the owners as he read.

A merry time they had of it that afternoon. Some wonderful acrostics were read. Ellis Holbrook had a very clever one, arranged from his lesson in Virgil. Howard Minturn had borrowed from his father's library a copy of Shakespeare, and worked hard over his; the boys and their teacher thought it a success.

Even Bob Turner had written; the idea had happened to strike him as a very funny one, and Bob always did everything that he thought funny. He had found three lines in rhyme which just suited him, and by the time the eager boys had spelled out B O B,--which was the only name the boy saw fit to own,--the schoolroom fairly shook with their laughter.

Next to his lay a paper which Tip knew, and his heart beat so loudly when Mr. Burrows took it up, that he thought every one in the room must notice.

The room had now grown quiet, and Mr. Burrows, after opening the paper, announced the t.i.tle,--

"WHAT JESUS CHRIST SAYS."

Then read slowly and reverently, while the wondering scholars spelled out the name.

"E Even the night shall lie light about thee.

D Depart from evil and do good.

W Whosoever cometh unto Me, I will in no wise cast out.

A A new heart will I give you.

R Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.

D Draw nigh to G.o.d, and He will draw nigh to thee.

"L Lo, I am with you always.

E Ever follow that which is good.

W Whosoever abideth in Him, sinneth not.

I I will go before thee, and make the crooked paths straight.

S So that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper."

What a silent and astonished company listened to this reading, and spelled the name "Edward Lewis!"

"Edward," Mr. Burrows said at last, "who found those verses for you?"

"I found them, sir, in my Bible. I've got them all marked!" speaking eagerly, willing this time to bring proof that he was telling the truth.

Mr. Burrows' voice almost trembled as he answered,--

"It is a beautiful collection of some of the most precious verses in the Bible. It was a fine idea; I am very much surprised and pleased. I wish that you, and every scholar of mine, could feel in your hearts the full meaning of those words of Jesus."

"I can't to-night, Howard," said Ellis Holbrook, in answer to his friend's coaxings to accompany him home; "I've got something else to attend to. Hallo, Tip! Tip Lewis! Hold on a bit! I'm going your way. No, Howard, I'll come up in the morning; I really _can't_ to-night."

Tip waited in wondering silence, while the boy, whom he counted an enemy, hurried towards him.

Ellis was a bold, prompt boy: when he had anything to say, he _said_ it; so he came to the point at once.

"See here, Tip, did I blunder the other day when I told Mr. Burrows you threw paper? I thought I saw you."

"Yes," said Tip, "you did. I didn't throw a bit of paper that day."

"Well, father said he thought I was mistaken. I'm sure I supposed I was telling the truth. I'm sorry. I'll say so to Mr. Burrows and the boys, if you like, and let him find out who did it, and then was mean enough to see you whipped for it."

Tip struggled a little. "No," he said at last, "let it go. The whipping is done, and can't be undone; I don't want to make any more bother about it."

Ellis eyed him curiously.

"You're a queer fellow," he said at last. "I expect you had about the best acrostic, this afternoon, that can be written."

Tip's heart was throbbing with pleasure as he walked on home after Ellis had left him. For the first time in his life he had earnest, warm, hearty praise from his teacher. Ellis had said, "Father told me he thought I was mistaken." Mr. Holbrook, then, did believe and trust him. Besides, there was another thought which seemed delightful to him. Tip Lewis, the worthless, yes, wicked boy that everybody thought him, had walked down the main street side by side, and talking earnestly with Ellis Holbrook, the minister's son.

CHAPTER X.

"Enter not into the path of the wicked."

Kitty hung on the gate and watched them pa.s.s by,--the long train of high waggons with grated windows, out of which strange animals peered with their great, fierce eyes; the two elephants in their scarlet and gold blankets; the tiny ponies tossing their s.h.a.ggy manes; the splendid carriage drawn by eight gaily blanketed, gaily plumed, dancing horses, and every seat filled with splendidly dressed men and women; the bright red band-waggon, with the sun glittering over the wonderful bra.s.s instruments and turning them into gold. Kitty watched all this,--watched, and listened to the loud, full bursts of music, until her heart swelled and bounded. She sprang from the gate, and stamped her foot on the ground.

"I wish--oh, I wish I could go!" she almost screamed at last. "I want to--I _want_ to! Oh, I never wanted to go anywhere so bad in my life!"

"I reckon you'll take it out in wanting," said her mother, who had also leaned on the fence and watched the show pa.s.s by. "Folks who have to dig as I do, from morning to night, just to get something to eat, don't have any money to spend on circuses."

Kitty shook her head with rage. "I don't go anywhere," she screamed.

"Never! I never went to a circus in my life, and all the boys and girls around here go every year. Tip always goes--always; he manages to slip in. Oh, Tip'" and she opened the gate and went out to him on the sidewalk, a new thought having come to her, "can't you do something to get some money, and let me go to the circus with you? Can't you manage some way? Oh, Tip, do! I'll do anything for you, if you only will. I never wanted anything so bad before."

And Tip's face, as he walked towards the village ten minutes after that, was a study, it looked so full of trouble.

Kitty wanted to go to that circus,--wanted to go so very much that she had coaxed and begged him in a way that she had never done before.

Besides, if the truth be told, Tip wanted to go himself; every time the wind wafted back to him a swell of the distant music, it made his heart fairly jump. It was true, as Kitty had said, he always managed to slip in some way; and the oftener he went, the oftener he wanted to go.

Well, then, what was the matter with Tip? What he had done so many times before, he could surely find a way to do again. Oh yes! But Tip Lewis to-day was different from any Tip Lewis there had ever been before on circus day. Wasn't he trying to do right? But then, what had circuses to do with that? He tried to think what were his reasons for being troubled!

Why did a small voice down in his heart keep telling him that the circus was no place for him now?