But these hardy pioneers are bold and independent thinkers. The preacher must show himself "a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, _rightly_ dividing the word of truth," if he would keep his hold on their respect. It will not do to be careless even in teaching the Sabbath school. I was suddenly reminded of this yesterday. Speaking on the subject of benevolence, I had remarked that the poorest of us, if we were careful not to waste, might have something that we could spare as well as not to those needier than ourselves. And I inquired if any scholar could tell me what scripture enforced this lesson. As no one responded, I read the account of the multiplying of the loaves and fishes when Christ fed the fainting multitudes; and coming to the words, "Gather up the fragments, that nothing be lost," I asked, "Do not these words show that we ought to save the pieces, that we may give them to the hungry?" "No, sir," promptly answered a lad of about sixteen. Thinking he had misunderstood the question, I repeated it, saying, "I asked, Thomas,"--for that was the boy's name,--"if this language does not teach that we should save what we are apt to throw away, that we may have something to give the poor." "I do not think it does," he replied. "Why not?" I inquired. "Jesus told the disciples to share the nice new loaves with the people, and to keep the bits and ends for themselves." He was right. I had unconsciously been making that great miracle of mercy teach stinginess! How often I had heard it explained to polished audiences in New England in the same way, and not a criticism offered. Yet the one who pointed out this strangely-common error was a child belonging to one of the most thriftless of these frontier families. His name is Jones; and he is, I think, a lad of promise, in whom I am becoming much interested, as also in his father, a restless, singular being, but who is more of a man, in my judgment, than he seems. * * * * * I am getting to feel more and more deeply that duty calls me to labor here. If it were not for my dear wife and children, I should decide at once to remain. But how could she get along in this out-of-the-world place? Can she relinquish the comforts of her eastern home, and share with me, for the Master's sake, the privations of the wilderness? The settlers are kind, and say we shall not suffer. A subscription paper has been started, and has already a goodly array of names; and brother Palmer--an excellent man of some means--says he will furnish me money with which to build a neat cottage. CHAPTER VIII. TOM'S VICTORY.