LET ME RING THE BELL.

A missionary far away, Beyond the Southern sea, Was sitting in his home one day, With Bible on his knee, When suddenly he heard a rap Upon the chamber door, And opening, there stood a boy, Of some ten years or more. He was a bright and happy child, With cheeks of dusky hue, And eyes that 'neath their lashes smiled And glittered like the dew. He held his little form erect, In boyish sturdiness, But on his lip you could detect Traces of gentleness. "Dear sir," he said, in native tongue, "I do so want to know, If something for the house of God You'd kindly let me do." "What can you do, my little boy?" The missionary said, And as he spoke he laid his hand Upon the youthful head. Then bashfully, as if afraid His secret wish to tell, The boy in eager accents said, "Oh, let me ring the bell! "Oh, please to let me ring the bell For our dear house of prayer; I'm sure I'll ring it loud and well, And I'll be always there!" The missionary kindly looked Upon that upturned face, Where hope, and fear, and wistfulness United, left their trace. And gladly did he grant the boon: The boy had pleaded well, And to the eager child he said, "Yes, you shall ring the bell!" Oh, what a pleased and happy heart He carried to his home, And how impatiently he longed For the Sabbath-day to come! He rang the bell, he went to school, The Bible learned to read, And in his youthful heart they sowed The gospel's precious seed. And now to other heathen lands He's gone, of Christ to tell; And yet his first young mission was To ring the Sabbath bell.