THE GOLDEN CITY

Another Sunday. The children had been to the little village church in the morning, and now after their early dinner were discussing plans for the afternoon in the school-room. It was a lovely day. The French windows were open, and the green lawn, with its fringe of young larches and birches at the bottom of it, looked very inviting to the little ones.

This lawn was their special property. It was not so smoothly rolled and cared for as were the two on which Mona had her croquet and tennis, but then, when cricket and rounders were as often the order of the day as anything else, it was not to be expected that its turf would be as well preserved. It belonged to the children, and their little feet used it well.

"Shall we be naughty or good?" questioned Bumps anxiously.

Jill screwed up her mouth and nose impatiently.

"Shut up, Bumps; you shouldn't ask such silly questions. Jack and I are going to be what we like. I don't think we shall want you at all."

"Oh, she can come if she likes," said Jack, "we may want her. We're going to play a proper Sunday game—one out of the Bible."

Jill looked at her little sister meditatively.

"She would make a good Joseph!"

"Yes," cried Jack, cutting a caper; "and there's the rubbish-pit in the backyard, she could never climb up without a rope."

"But there's the coat of many colours," said Jill slowly; "we must have that."

There was silence. Bumps looked slightly uneasy.

"The rubbith-pit is very dirty, and I've got my bestest frock on," she ventured.

Jill turned upon her severely.

"You ought to be thankful to be Joseph, Bumps. He was an awfully good little boy, you can't do wrong if you play at being him. S'posing if we told you to be Cain, how would you like that?"

"There's my striped red-and-blue jersey," broke in Jack, "we'll dress her up in that."

"Yes, go and get it quick, and I've got some yellow ribbon that Mona gave me; we'll twist it round and round, and it will look splendid!"

It was unfortunate, from the children's point of view, that Miss Falkner should take it into her head to come into the room just when Bumps was being arrayed in her many-coloured garment. They had taken it for granted that she would retire to her room for a long afternoon nap, after the custom of their nurse.

Bumps was quite happy now. She stood on a chair with beaming pride, whilst Jill wound her yellow ribbon round and round the coloured jersey, till she looked like some fat wasp.

Jack with his hands in his pockets was watching the proceeding impatiently.

"Hurry up, Jill—and, I say! we haven't half talked it out. How shall we manage to dip it in blood, and who's to be old Jacob?"

Jill was never at a loss.

"I'll be Jacob. I can easily be him, and we'll get a can of water, and one of Mona's red paints—the oil ones in the tubes—I'll soon make some blood."

Then Miss Falkner spoke.

"I did not mean to leave you so long, chicks, but I was looking in my box to see if I could find a story-book to read to you. I haven't been successful, but I thought we would all go out on the lawn and sit under the trees, and then I would tell you a story!"

The children's faces looked rather blank.

"We're having a game, thank you," said Jill slowly, striving to be polite.

"Why are you making Winnie such a guy? I think we must leave such games for week-days."

"Oh, but," said Jack eagerly, "this is a Sunday game; we're most partic'lar to play only Sunday games on Sunday. Mona likes us to."

But Miss Falkner showed a bold front.

"I cannot have it," she said decidedly; "take that jersey off, Winnie, and come out into the garden with me."

It was Miss Falkner's first Sunday. Her little pupils were still in awe of her, but their disappointment was great, and they followed her out into the garden with sullen, angry faces.

Yet when they were settled under a lime-tree with chairs and cushions, the sweet spring air and sunshine, and the singing of the birds, charmed their discontent away.

Miss Falkner could tell a story well, and they knew it. Bumps sat on a cushion at her feet, Jack lay on his back on the grass with another cushion tucked under his head, and Jill was curled up in a big wicker-chair sitting on her feet in true tailor fashion, as was her custom.

"Once upon a time," began Miss Falkner, "there lived two children who were orphans. They were a boy and a girl named Rufus and Cicely. They had no one to care for them and love them, for an old uncle with whom they lived could not bear children, and told them to keep out of his sight and way as much as possible. They used to spend most of their time out of doors, and would wander over the country day after day, taking their dinners in their pockets, and only coming home at bedtime. One day they went out feeling very unhappy. Their uncle had been very angry with them, and told them to be gone, and never come back again, for he was sick and tired of keeping them in his house. They walked on and on through a wood, and at last came out on the other side to the banks of a river which they had never seen before. Cicely was tired, so she sat down on the grass, and Rufus did the same. It was very quiet, and they soon fell asleep, but after a time they awoke with a start. An old man with a kind face and a grey beard was speaking to them. He held a letter in his hand.

"'This is a letter for you, dear children, from a King who loves you, and wants you to come to Him in His Golden City.'

"'For us?' said Rufus; 'it must be a mistake. No one loves us, no one wants us.'

"'My Master does. Read His message.'

"Rufus took the letter. His name and Cicely's were written upon it. He opened it. In golden letters which shone like the sun was written—

"'Come unto Me. Those that seek Me early shall find Me. This is the way, walk ye in it.'"

Jill sharp eyes were lifted at once to her governess's face.

"That sounds like a text," she said.

Miss Falkner made no remark, but went on—

"Rufus read the letter through again and again.

"'What does it mean?' he asked. 'Where does this King live? Where is the way to Him? We would like to go to Him if He wants us, would we not, Cicely?'

"'Oh, yes,' Cicely cried. 'Let us go at once. Show us the way.'

"The old man smiled.

"'Are you in earnest?' he asked. 'Do you really want to go to my Master? Then follow me. He has sent me to show you the way.'

"Then he led the children to the bank of the river, and told them to look across it. They saw on the other side a green hill with people walking up, and at the very top some glittering golden gates.

"'That is the Golden City,' he said gently. 'If you want real happiness it is to be found inside those gates; no pain, no unkindness, no disappointment ever finds its way there, and no sin.'

"He said these last words very solemnly.

"Rufus and Cicely began to feel uncomfortable.

"'We aren't altogether good,' they said.

"Then they looked about them with interest. They saw other children trying to cross the river; one boy was rowing himself across in a boat, another was building a bridge, some were standing on the bank hesitating. One little girl and boy bravely jumped in and began wading through it.

"'They will be drowned,' exclaimed Cicely. 'How shall we get across? In a boat?'

"The old man shook his head.

"'It is the King's wish that all travellers shall arrive at His gates with spotlessly clean clothes. Look through this telescope and you will see what is written above the gates.'

"The children looked through eagerly, and Cicely spelled out: '"There shall in no wise enter into it anything that defileth."'

"'What does that mean?' she asked.

"'It means that no dust or dirt of any kind is allowed inside.'

"Rufus looked down at his boots and clothes, then at his sister's.

"'We are very muddy,' he said; 'how can we make ourselves clean?'

"'By plunging into this river and being washed,' the old man said. 'The King's Son made this river. It cost Him His life, but it was the only way travellers could be cleansed. Look up at that sign-post and read what it says.'

"Rufus read: '"Wash and be clean." "If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with Me."'

"'The river is the only true way to the Golden City,' the old man said. 'You will only be turned away at the gates if you arrive there without washing in the river. That boy you see building a bridge is very eager and earnest, but his clothes will be too travel-stained and dusty to allow him to enter the gates when he gets there. He has made a wrong start, and is trying to reach the Golden City in the wrong way.'

"'And the boy in the boat?' asked Rufus.

"'He is wrong too, he too has overlooked the first start of all. The King would never have placed the river there if He did not mean every one to go through it.'

"Then Rufus led Cicely down to the river.

"'We will go through,' he said. 'We want to be washed clean.'

"Cicely was rather frightened at first, but the river was not deep, and when they clambered up the other side, they found to their delight that their clothes were new and fresh and clean. Then they started walking up the hill.

"It was steep and stony, but they kept their eyes fixed on the golden gates, and presently they found their old friend by their side again.

"Other people were climbing the hill, but many had never been through the river, and they were so dusty and shabby that their chance of entering the city was small indeed. Suddenly Cicely, who had been walking carelessly, stumbled and fell. She picked herself up, but her clean frock was soiled. She began to cry.

"'I can't keep myself clean,' she said; 'what shall I do?'

"The old man took hold of her hand and showed her a little stream running along by the side of the path.

"'It comes from the river,' he said, 'and is always close to you. You can wash in it whenever you get yourself dirty.'

"So Cicely dried her tears and quickly washed away her stain, and she went on happily with her brother. They walked with other children a part of the way; sometimes they found themselves alone; sometimes the path was rough, sometimes easy, and after a long, long time they reached the Golden City. It was a happy day for them then. They were tired, but they forgot their troubles when they saw the lovely gates. Two shining angels stood by the entrance, and they only let those in who had been washed in the river. They were the only ones who arrived in clean clothes. The others sadly turned away. Then Rufus and Cicely saw the King Himself. He came to meet them, and His look and smile was wonderful. I cannot tell you what He said, but He put His hands upon their heads and blessed them, and they followed Him up the golden street."

Miss Falkner paused. There was a short silence, then Bumps remarked reflectively—

"That was Jesus; no one puts their hands on children's heads and blesses them except Him!"

"It's a sort of parable, isn't it?" asked Jack. "I don't like parables, they make me feel so muddled. I love the Pilgrim's Progress if nobody tries to explain it. But it gets so mixed up when they do, that it's quite spoilt!"

"Would you like me to explain my story?" asked Miss Falkner gently.

"No," said Jack promptly.

"Yes," said Jill, in the same tone.

"We ought to be all journeying to the Golden City every day," said Miss Falkner. "I have only told you about the start, because I wanted you to make the right beginning. Perhaps some of you have started, have you?"

The children made no answer. Jill uncurled her feet, and her big questioning eyes were fixed intently upon her governess.

"I haven't started," she said abruptly.

"The King wants you quite as much as He wanted Rufus and Cicely," Miss Falkner said softly; "He wants all three of you."

"But where's the river?" asked Jack.

"Jesus Christ is the Water of Life, His blood that He shed will wash you whiter than snow. You must go to Him and ask Him to cleanse you, and then you will be able to start on your journey."

"I like journeys," announced Bumps, only dimly understanding the allegory, "partic'ly when we have thandwiches."

Jack rolled over on the grass.

"It will be a first-rate game," he said, rising to his feet; "I think better than Joseph!"

Then he caught sight of an early butterfly, and in a moment was off across the lawn in pursuit of it.

The little party broke up. Bumps trotted after Jack, but Jill betook herself to their hammock. Here she swung herself to and fro wrapped in deep meditation. The Golden City had entranced her. For the first time in her little life she began to long to be good, and later on that day, after she had been put to bed, Miss Falkner heard her murmur in her sleep—

"I'll start to-morrow!"