“No, sir,” replied Tom again, decidedly, and rising as he spoke, as if not wishing to continue the conversation. “What’s to hinder you?” asked the man. “I am going to school, sir,” returned the boy, knowing that this would put a stop to the urging; and it was successful, for the man, with a few coarse words about “niggers and education,” turned suddenly and walked away, and Tom, with his hands in his pockets, sauntered off in an opposite direction, whistling. He came up to his home by and by, and found his sister Martha in a chair outside the door, busied with some sewing. He sat down on a step near and watched her swift-moving hand in silence for some minutes, with his eyes on her work and his thoughts a long way off. “Has mother come back?” he asked, at length. “Yes, Tom,” replied Martha, with a little sigh, “but she didn’t succeed in getting any work. I do not see how we are going to get along. I think I shall try to see if I can get something to do.” “I was thinking of that, too,” said Tom. “There’s a man here to-day who wants hands to go twenty miles out. He wanted me, but I told him ‘No.’” Martha stitched away in silence. “I’d go,” said Tom, suddenly, “but there’s the school; I could not give that up.” “Not for Jesus, Tom?” asked Martha, looking round with a little smile. “_Would_ it be for Jesus, Martha,” said Tom, earnestly, “to give up school and go to work, neglecting my education meanwhile?” “Think about it, Tom, and remember what Paul did for Jesus.” Tom did think. The conversation ceased between them entirely, and the fresh spring breezes came from the South, laden with the breath of flowers, and passed gently by the two seated before the cabin door, one of them so busy with his decision. When Tom, at length, rose and moved off, Martha could not tell his thought, although she peered anxiously into his face to see if possible what lay there, but it was unmoved, and he did not meet her look of inquiry with any return, but passed out of the gate, swinging it after him, and walking off toward the quarter of the town where his father was at work. He looked very grave when the two came in together at dinner-time, and hurried off toward the school-room before his sister was ready. She watched him a little anxiously all the afternoon, but the grave, intent face did not once relax its gravity, and the lines of soberness remained even after the pleasant afternoon session came to a close. Martha waited for her brother some minutes, with the hope that she might have one of their customary talks on their way home, but he did not come away, so she went on alone. It was not until an hour later, while she was busily weeding the little garden, that Tom came up and stopped at her side. “Martha, I’m going,” he said, abruptly. “Tom! why, Tom--going! when and what for,” she said, starting and turning round toward him. “Going to-morrow, Martha, and for Jesus,” he replied, quietly.