"You have not much talent, even."
John admitted this with a sorrowful shake of his head.
"But you have a little, perhaps, and you used what little you had with a proper amount of industry for a time. But now, what have you been doing since you came back from that harum-scarum—"
"Please, don't. Yes, yes, I know. What have I been doing? Nothing, nothing," John confessed, dolefully.
"For which you ought to be ashamed," said the schoolmaster; "but if you will set to at once, and make up for lost time, we shall get you through your examinations. And you know, John, that you can do nothing better than take that appointment. You won't get rich out there, I daresay. You haven't the talent for that sort, of thing; but then you will, at all events, be doing something for yourself; and, in fact, it is the road plainly pointed out to you by circumstances, and you ought to walk in it."
"True, true," responded John.
"And not falteringly or imperfectly. Whatsoever your hand findeth to do, do it with all your might."
"I will, God helping me," John aspirated.
"The wisest thing I have heard you say yet, John," quoth the schoolmaster; "keep to that, and you will do. 'In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.' And there's another matter in which you require that help. You know what I mean."
John again hung his head and blushed deep red.