CHAPTER XIII.

HEAD WORK AND HARD WORK.

THERE is nothing like having plenty to do, and doing it with all one's might. I verily believe that the hardest manual labour is less fatiguing than habitual illness, just as rust corrodes and wears away the polished steel far more quickly than constant rubbing. Very busy, and very happy were William and myself at the period of which I write. Twice a week we used to rise before it was light, in order that our flowers and vegetables, such as they were (it was the former upon which we prided ourselves the most), might be ready by the time Mr. Martin called for them.. He did not like to be kept waiting a moment, and we took care that he never should be. We used to gather them in the early dawn, with the dew still upon them. How fresh and beautiful they were! We had learned to arrange them into "market bunches," as they were called. The more choice and

delicate flowers were made up in small bouquets, and always commanded a ready sale.

Everything was so still and quiet at that early hour, that we could distinguish the heavy rumbling of the market cart while it was still a long way off, and we used to open the garden gate, and stand holding our little basket, ready to be handed in, which was the work of a moment. Then followed a cheerful salutation, a smack of Mr. Martin's long whip; and the cart moved on again, and left us once more alone.

Many a time have we lingered by that little gate to watch the sun rise. I pity any one who never saw the sun rise: it is a glorious sight, and one well worth getting up to behold. Sometimes we availed ourselves of the quiet stillness of the early morning to learn our lessons, or else worked in the garden until breakfast was ready. Just at first, I was frequently obliged to go and lie down again, and used to feel tired all day afterwards. But my father encouraged me to persevere, and in a little while I grew so accustomed to rise early, that I used to find it impossible to sleep after a certain hour.

We were sure to see Mr. Martin again on market days. I remember that, upon those

occasions, he used to produce a small canvass bag, which always appeared to me to be full of money, and take from it the exact sum due to us for what he had sold. He made William keep an account of all transactions that took place between them. I have often heard him praise my brother for his accuracy, and businesslike habits. It was evident that he took great interest in him.

"If you only go on as you have begun," said he, upon one occasion, "you will be sure to succeed."

"But my brother is not going to be a gardener all his life," interrupted I. "He is to be a clergyman."

Mr. Martin looked from one to the other, with a curious expression of countenance.

"A clergyman, is he? Well, tell me when that time comes, and I preach his first sermon.

will go and hear him There are texts enough

to be found among the flowers. What's that about the lilies-eh, young gentleman ? "

"Consider the lilies of the field,'" repeated William, "how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin and yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed

like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and tomorrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?' Yes, that is a beautiful text. What do you think of the Rose of Sharon, sir?"

Mr. Martin was silent a moment, and then said

"I am afraid that I have not thought of it as much as I ought. But you do not really mean to be a preacher ?"

"I do not see any hope of it at present," replied William, with a sigh.

"Take my advice, and stick to gardening. Depend upon it, you have a decided talent that way, and will make something of it in time. You must have saved a nice little sum already."

"No," said I, "we have not saved anything. We always give it to my mother to help keep house with."

Mr. Martin looked somewhat embarrassed. "I did not intend to ask what you do with your money," said he. "I have no right. I only know that you are both of you good, industrious boys, and work hard to earn it. I wish it was more."

"So do I, sir, for in that case we might put by something towards our schooling."

"You appear to me to know more already than most boys of your age and-" I think he was going to add "station," but he broke off abruptly.

"My father teaches us of an evening; but he would like to be able to send us to school, nevertheless."

"A good education is a fine thing," said Mr. Martin, “and helps a man on wonderfully, let his situation in life be what it may."

As soon as he had gone, which he seldom did without leaving us a little present of seeds or roots, we used to take the money to my mother. And very proud and happy we felt when we placed it in her hands, and heard her thank us, and say what an assistance it was to her; and that she did not know how she should have managed as she did if it had not been for our little earnings. I do not think that she used the word "little," although to be sure they were little enough-but we all thought a great deal of them.

"I do believe," said I one day to William, "that I am growing like Uncle Jabez."