But more than ever he longed for the help which he knew she could give when he called his little Sunday-school together on Sunday afternoon. His face did not show what he felt, but it was only with the help of a fervent prayer that he brought himself there at all. When he opened his little Bible to read, there were thirty faces looking toward him--men, women and children of every age. They each brought a chair or a stool with them, and sitting around the sides of the cabin, some leaning back and others erect, they all gave the most careful and fixed attention to the voice, manner and words of the reader. As for Tom, with a trembling heart, he opened his Bible and began. He had chosen one of the Psalms, and as the words of trust, and refuge, and sure strength have come home to tired hearts ever since the words were first given, so they came home to Tom’s heart, and made him “strong in the Lord of hosts.” The prayer that followed was our Saviour’s own, and oh how much better it made Tom feel! They sang after that one of their own hymns, and the words given in their full, rich voices, with all the pathos belonging peculiarly to the race, stilled more hearts than one. “There’s no more rain to wet you, Oh yes! I want to go home--want to go home; Dere’s no sun to burn you, Oh yes! I want to go home--want to go home; Dere’s no hard trials, Oh yes! I want to go home--want to go home; No evil-doers in de kingdom, Oh yes! I want to go home--want to go home; All is gladness in de kingdom, Oh yes! I want to go home--want to go home.” After they had finished, Tom talked to them a while from some sweet Bible words. Oh how humble, how unfit he felt that he should be the one to lead them home! It was only his love for Christ that brought the words forth at all, but that, stirring his soul, sent that which was sweet to hear. As for those who listened, it was nothing new to them. All that was strange was that he should talk to them all at once, but there was not one there who had not heard the name of Jesus from the boy’s lips before. They all knew how sweetly it came, or they would not have been here to-day. “When young Tom talks religion, I can listen,” said one old man. “He talks sense, and he is brimming over with God’s love.” That was the secret of his success everywhere. Just as he had finished his little talk he looked up, and through the doorway he could see Mr. Sutherland walking quietly down the road toward the building. It confused him for a minute, but then, regaining his composure, he asked them to sing again; so when Mr. Sutherland came in the wild notes of another hymn were being thrown out on the sweet summer afternoon air. The master stopped just within the door and stood still to listen. When they ceased singing, Tom asked them if they remembered any texts which they could repeat. There was a moment’s hesitation, and then one said: “Men ought always to pray and not to faint.”