HAPPY JACK JOSEPH HOOKER CAMP
O “the little church around the
corner” belonged Happy Jack,
and it belonged to him. For
many years he had been its
T
faithful deacon. He helped to build
it, when it had grown from a little
street mission; had brushed the
floors, made the fires, and took up
the collection for many years. His
always cheerful, laughing blue eyes
had gained him the title of Happy
Jack, a name of which he was well
proud.
But poor “Happy,” if he is longer
happy, it is in remembrance of those
blissful days when he was free, and
well in the confidence of his many
friends; when he gathered his little
brood around the family altar after
the tiresome day’s work was finished,
and offered up thanks for the bless
ings of the day. In such fond remin
iscences only, did he now brood over
these happy days, and forget for a
spell, if forget he could, his present
dreary, dismal confines.
Listen to our story and your heart,
if you have a heart, will go into
the home that Happy left, into the
life he lived, his ups and downs, and
his bitter end —not end, but eternity.
