“They wanted, sir, and I knew how I used to want when I could not have. I could not refuse.” “I sometimes think,” said Mr. Sutherland slowly, with his eyes on his fingers, which were chipping off pieces of bark from the tree against which Tom leaned--“I sometimes think that we are just beginning to understand your people.” He got a very deep look out of the dark eyes in reply, but that was all. “I came over here,” he continued after a moment, “to say to you that I think you had better leave your field-work altogether, and devote your days to my books and your evenings to your school. You are doing too much.” Tom’s eyes sparkled for a moment, but then he returned gravely, “I know it, sir, but I think with your leave I will still keep on. Martha--my sister--writes me that work is hard to get, and they will need my earnings.” “Oh, I shall continue your wages just the same,” said Mr. Sutherland hastily. “It is for my interest to do so. I shall need you longer now, as the returns begin to come in.” “Then, sir, I would gladly come,” replied Tom joyfully, “and thank you very much. My work is very wearying sometimes.” “Well, that is all then. Come up as usual to-night--I shall want you. Good-morning.” “Good-morning, sir,” replied Tom, and after watching his master until he disappeared, he clasped his hands and looked upward, with every particle of pain and weariness banished from his face. “He knoweth them that trust in him,” he thought. His letter to Martha that night carried joy with it. [Illustration] CHAPTER V. “Get thy spindle and thy distaff ready, and God will give thee flax.”--OLD PROVERB. After the commencement of Tom’s evening-school, and before he gave up his field-work, his time was so fully occupied that when the labors of the day were over, he often felt so very weary that he had almost given up the thought of his Sunday-school; and when it did occur to him in his longing to do more Christian work, he knew very well that he had not leisure enough to devote to any such thing. Now, however, as soon as he was installed in the master’s house, to spend five or six hours every day with his books, in the leisure hours which came to him, the thought of the Sunday-school recurred to him constantly. Still, he dreaded to undertake this task. He felt how very young he was, and saw dimly what an undertaking it would be. It was quite a long time therefore before he took any active steps in the matter, and then it was through a letter from Miss Mason. She had known a little, from what Tom had written, of how the boy was progressing; and although long ago he had told her of his anxiety to commence a Sunday-school, she had never heard more of it, and of late his letters were written in a half-desponding tone, which she could not feel easy about; so she wrote him a letter which, without mentioning the subject, gave him just what he wanted to think about.