Besides these things, he found that the little Bible, for
which his mother had made a small inside breast-pocket, was safe.
Dick's heart smote him when he took it out and undid the clasp, for he
had not looked at it until that day. It was firmly bound with a brass
clasp, so that, although the binding and the edges of the leaves were
soaked, the inside was quite dry. On opening the book to see if it
had been damaged, a small paper fell out. Picking it up quickly, he
unfolded it, and read, in his mother's handwriting: "_Call upon me in
the time of trouble; and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify
me. My son, give me thine heart_."
Dick's eyes filled with tears while the sound, as it were, of
his mother's voice thus reached him unexpectedly in that lonely
wilderness. Like too many whose hearts are young and gay, Dick had
regarded religion, if not as a gloomy, at least as not a cheerful
thing. But he felt the comfort of these words at that moment, and he
resolved seriously to peruse his mother's parting gift in time to
come.
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