File:David Livingstone- the story of one who followed Christ (1882) (14577744568).jpg

Identifier: davidlivingstone00houg (find matches)
Title: David Livingstone: the story of one who followed Christ
Year: 1882 (1880s)
Authors: Houghton, Louise Seymour, 1838-1920
Subjects: Livingstone, David, 1813-1873
Publisher: PHiladelphia, Presby. Bd
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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y case. He realized his mistake when theArabs, being defeated, made off and left him to getout of trouble as best he could ; but he did succeedin getting out with all his goods and men, and inmaking his way through the disturbed country toUjiji, little thinking to find Livingstone so soon.He was surprised enough to see the excitement hisarrival was creating, and to hear one voice afteranother accosting him in English. They wereSusi and Chuma, and behind them came one whom,though he had never seen, he recognized at once. As I advanced slowly toward him, says Mr.Stanley, I noticed he was pale, looked wearied,had a gray beard, wore a bluish cap with a fadedgold band round it, had on a red-sleeved waist-coat and a pair of gray tweed trousers. I wouldhave run to him, only I was in the presence of sucha mob—would have embraced him, only, he beingan Englishman, I did not know how he would re-ceive me; so I did what cowardice and false pridesuggested was the best thing—walked deliberately
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d/7jywtr&u& ^ ^r^ ~2^- ZZSjmjSigBSM Stanley meets Livingstone. Page 310. THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 311 up to him, took off my hat and said, Dr. Living-stone, I presume?—Yes/ said he with a kindsmile, lifting his cap slightly. I replace my haton my head and he pats on his cap, and we bothgrasp hands, and then I say aloud, i I thank God,doctor, I have been permitted to see you/ Heanswered, I feel thankful that I am here to wel-come you/ Stanley could never remember a word of the con-versation that followed. I found myself gazingat him, conning the wonderful man at whose side Inow sat in Central Africa. Every hair of his headand beard, every wrinkle of his face, the wannessof his features and the slightly wearied look hewore, were all imparting intelligence to me. . . .Oh, reader, had you been at my side on this dayin Ujiji, how eloquently could be told the natureof this mans work! Had you been there to seeand hear! His lips gave me the details—lipsthat never lie. To Livingstone th

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