Just so God
is our keeper. He is wiser than we.
Little Jimmy.
A friend of mine in Chicago took his Sabbath-school out on the cars
once. A little boy was allowed to sit on the platform of the car, when
by some mischance he fell, and the whole train passed over him. They had
to go on a half a mile before they could stop. They went back to him and
found that the poor little fellow had been cut and mangled all to
pieces. Two of the teachers went back with the remains to Chicago. Then
came the terrible task of telling the parents about it. When they got to
the house they dared not go in. They were waiting there for five minutes
before anyone had the courage to tell the story. But at last they
ventured in. They found the family at dinner. The father was called
out--they thought they would tell the father first. He came out with the
napkin in his hand. My friend said to him: "I have got very bad news to
tell you. Your little Jimmy has got run over by the cars." The poor man
turned deathly pale and rushed into the room crying out, "Dead, dead."
The mother sprang to her feet and came out of the sitting-room where the
teachers were. When she heard the sad story she fainted dead away at
their feet. "Moody," said my friend, "I wouldn't be the messenger of
such tidings again if you would give me the whole of Chicago.
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