. T. DeWitt Talmage : his life and work : biographical edition . he distance a light in the window. Ah! thatlight had been gleaming there every night since she went away. Along thatcountry road she passed until she came to the garden gate. She opened it, andpassed up the path where she played in childhood. She came to the steps andlooked in at the fire on the hearth. Then she put her fingers to the latch. Oh, ifthat door had been locked, she would have perished on the threshold, for she was 85 86 T. DE WITT TALMAGE—HIS LIFE AND WORK near to death! But that door had not been locked since the ti


. T. DeWitt Talmage : his life and work : biographical edition . he distance a light in the window. Ah! thatlight had been gleaming there every night since she went away. Along thatcountry road she passed until she came to the garden gate. She opened it, andpassed up the path where she played in childhood. She came to the steps andlooked in at the fire on the hearth. Then she put her fingers to the latch. Oh, ifthat door had been locked, she would have perished on the threshold, for she was 85 86 T. DE WITT TALMAGE—HIS LIFE AND WORK near to death! But that door had not been locked since the time she went pushed open the door. She went in and lay down on the hearth by thefire. The old house-dog growled as he saw her enter, but there was somethingin the voice he recognized, and he frisked about her until he almost pushed herdown in his joy. IN A MOTHERS ARMS In the morning the mother came down, and she saw a bundle of rags onthe hearth; but when the face was uplifted, she knew it, and it was no more old Meg of the street. Throwing her arn^. around the returned prodigal, shecried, Oh, Maggie! The childthrew her arms around her mothersneck, and said, Oh, mother! andwhile they were embraced a ruggedform towered above them. It was thefather. The severity all gone out ofhis face, he stooped and took her uptenderly and carried her to mothersroom, and laid her down on mothersbed, for she was dying. Then the lostone, looking up into her mothers face,said, Wounded for our transgressionsand bruised for our iniquities ! Mother,do you think that means me ? Oh,yes, my darling, said the mother. Ifmother is so glad to get you back,dont you think God is glad to get youback ? And there she lay dying, andall her dreams and all her prayers werefilled with the words, Wounded forour transgressions, bruised for ouriniquities, until, just before the mo-ment of her departure, her face lightedup, showing the pardon of God haddropped upon her soul. And there she slept away on the bo


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectclergy, bookyear1902