Richard being the eldest, somehow did not regard himself as a boy. He had always taken care upon himself, so as to relieve his mother, and though the merriest fellow alive, singing or whistling at his work, he had never within his recollection spent a whole day in play. "The fact is," said his father watching him as he took the milk pail, the night after his visit to Mr. Jones, and went out to do the barn chores, "the fact is, our Dick makes play of his work."
Mr. Stuart was a scholar, naturally absorbed in the duties of his profession. He betook himself to his study at an early hour and midnight very often found his lamp still burning. His wife was competent to manage the affairs of the little household, and he wisely left them to her, often wondering, however, how she made the small salary cover even their frugal expenses. Happily freed from this charge, he gave himself entirely to his work, and brought forth to his people deep, hidden treasures. As a pastor he was unwearied and almost unrivalled. Like a true shepherd he cared for his flock, leading them unto green pastures, and beside the still waters. In sickness he was by their side. In sorrow he wept with them. In all circumstances of life, their firm, faithful and sympathizing friend, leading them through prosperity or adversity to look beyond this world to the mansions above the skies.
The minister's family lived in small house which they owned; and connected with it was a farm of fourteen acres. They kept a horse, cow, pig and chickens. In the spring a man was hired to plough, and assist in planting the corn and potatoes; and he generally came again in the fall to help get in the harvest. The hoeing and weeding of the vegetable garden was done mainly by Richard; his long summer vacation coming just in the time he was most needed. Eddy, the boy next in age, not yet ten, had this year assumed the responsibility of the chicken house and with his little saw and hatchet could cut kindlings as well as any body; but Richard was the one on whom his mother mainly depended.
After his visit to the city, the church decorations and the probability of his securing the job, were often the subject of discussion between himself and his mother. But Dick was shrewd as well as industrious.
"I'd better not tell the school boys," he said one day. "If I do, they'll be pulling all the evergreen in Mr. Pond's pasture; and there isn't any more within half a mile. How many wreaths can I make in a day?"
"I don't know, Dick. You may go, over some afternoon to Mr. McIntosh's and learn how; then you can teach me and I'll help you."
"Thank you, mother. I do hope the church wont be too poor to decorate. Mr. Jones was real kind about it."
