“Yes,” replied Tom, with a smile, “if people pray they will not faint. Are there any more?” There were plenty more. It only needed some one to commence. One followed another, and their memories seemed stored with sweet words of rest and hope. Minds which could not grasp many a simpler thing of every-day life, rested and dwelt upon the divine words, and understood them because they _were_ divine. When they had finished Tom looked round toward Mr. Sutherland with a little smile of triumph, but there was no response there. He stood with his hat pushed back off his forehead, and one hand thrust negligently into his pocket, leaning against the door-post. His eyes were on the floor, but somehow Tom knew they had not been fixed there for the past fifteen minutes. Nevertheless, he turned back a little disappointed. “I think it is time to close now,” he said. “We have no books or we would have a short lesson, but if you like to come next Sunday we will be glad to see you all. Now let us put ourselves in God’s hands, and then go home.” So Tom kneeled by the little rush-bottomed chair he had brought from Aunt Margaret’s cabin, and gave his school into God’s keeping for the week, praying that the words they had heard to-day might stay by them always, and help them in all they did to work for God’s glory. Then Tom arose, just in time to see Mr. Sutherland standing erect in the doorway, his hat in his hand and his head bent in the attitude of prayer. Tom’s heart gave one throb of joy. There were others that saw it besides himself, he knew, and it was all he wanted to impress the lesson of the afternoon. What a blessed Sunday evening that was! I think Tom never spent such another. The Sunday-school grew and prospered ever after that, and the Sunday evenings were always pleasant, but never one like this. It was a stand taken, a point gained; begun thus in God’s strength, it was sure to succeed. Tom was very grateful. After supper, he sat on the step of Aunt Margaret’s cabin, letting the full moonlight pour over him, and longing for Martha’s presence that he might talk over the precious afternoon with her. Whilst he thus sat and mused two or three children approached him from the quarters, and stopping near him, one of them timidly asked him, “If you please Tom, could you teach us a text for next Sunday? We want to recite something.” “Yes, oh yes.” Tom was willing, so they sat down on the step below him, and each one was given a text. “Love one another with a pure heart fervently.” That was the first. “God resisteth the proud and giveth grace unto the humble.” That was the second. The third--which Tom gave to the eldest of the three, who sat looking up earnestly at him, waiting for his words--was one whose glorious words had been pouring their light through Tom’s soul ever since the afternoon school--his triumph in Christ’s name: “This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith.” [Illustration] CHAPTER VI.