The teacher was so successful in his work that the parents in the district wanted him to teach another and another term. He did so; but all the time he was studying to prepare himself for larger work. He took advantage of every opportunity to attend school for a term or two at a time in some academy, until he became fitted for college. Meanwhile he was deeply interested in his younger brothers and sister and doing all he could to help them along in their studies.
About the time he was sixteen years old he heard a voice that seemed to say to him, "Go, work in my vineyard!" That voice meant everything to him; he was eager, therefore, to obey it. To work in the vineyard meant doing good, helping others, being unselfish, giving strength and cheer when needed. We all know how well he did his work in the Master's vineyard and through how many years he sowed the good seed.
A few weeks ago, the little brother, to whom I have referred, was looking forward to the coming of big brother's eightieth birthday and wishing that he could give expression to something worthy of the brother and his wonderful life-work. While he knew that he was not equal to an ideal accomplishment of such a pleasant task, he made one of his attempts and wrote the few lines enclosed, finishing them a very few days before the sad news of Grandpa's fatal illness reached him. He has made no change in them, realizing that you will understand that he was fondly hoping that his eightieth birthday would find big brother in his usual health and strength. So, with a heart heavy with grief, yet full of loving and grateful memories of my dear big brother, I am telling you this little story and sending you the accompanying tribute to one of the best men that ever lived.
And now, with much love to yourself and all the members of your home, the little brother of sixty-four years ago wishes to sign himself
Your affectionate
Uncle Freeman.
And the Sheaves Are Still Coming In
"Go, work in my vineyard!" The Master spoke
To the list'ning heart of Youth;