“I will, all that I can,” replied Tom.
“She said you had got religion. Is that so?”
Tom gave an instant’s glance out into the night again. “It is ‘known of me,’ then,” he thought; and finally said, with a little smile which showed more than anything else could have done the value that religion was to him, “I love the Lord Jesus.”
“I don’t think you and I will do for each other,” said the boy, a little mystified by Tom’s smile and moving uneasily in his seat. “I am up to all sorts of shines.”
“I think we’ll do very nicely for one another,” replied Tom, brightly, seeing, with joy, part of the Master’s work already at his hands. “We are school-mates, you know, and both love to study; that ought to make us friends if nothing else does. We will work together in the evenings.”
The boy roused instantly, and they fell into earnest talk of the ways and means for study, the lessons they had already learned, the remembrance of happy school-hours, and a thousand other things which to these boys, who until lately had never known the joys of school-life, were the brightest spots in their existence.
So the miles were passed over, and the beautiful Southern country left behind: the short journey—so long to many—was accomplished, and at a little station-house, within about a mile of the plantation, they were at length set down, fifty souls in all, and took up their line of march. Tom and his friend Jimmy Harrison walked on silently with the rest. The final landing at the station had not been pleasant. The agent who had them in charge was not kind, and the people were feeling very unpleasantly. Tom had rather better control of himself than the rest, for with the first shock and rebellious thoughts, as the words of harshness and anger fell upon his ears, his soul went up to God in a prayer for patience and strength, to keep down any feelings of unkindness. Then turning to Jimmy, whose quick temper had been roused by the rough treatment, with a few gentle kindly words of encouragement he put his arm through his, and led him forward in the line of march.
And long afterward, when the summer breezes would bring to him the cool fragrant breath of plants and growing flowers, he was always reminded of this first night, when the work which he longed to do for Jesus commenced; and knowing the blessed influence which followed all through that long, hard summer, he ever after thanked God and took courage.
