known as the "wheel-room."

Dorothy was spinning wool on the big wheel, dressed in her light calico
short-gown and brown quilted petticoat; her arms were bare, and her
hair was gathered away from her flushed cheeks and knotted behind her
ears. The roof sloped down on one side, and the light came from a long
low window under the eaves. There was another window (shaped like a
half moon high up in the peak), but it sent down only one long beam of
sunlight, which glimmered across the dust and fell upon Dorothy's white
neck.

The wheel was humming a quick measure, and Dorothy trod lightly back
and forth, the wheel-pin in one hand, the other upraised holding the
tense, lengthening thread, which the spindle devoured again.

"Dorothy, thee looks warm:--can't thee sit down a moment, while I talk
to thee?"

"Is it anything important, mother? I want to get my twenty knots before
dinner." She paused as she joined a long tress of wool at the spindle.
"Is it anything about father?"

"Yes, it's about father, and all of us."

"I know," said Dorothy, stretching herself back with a sigh. "He's
going away again!"

"Yes, dear. He feels that he is called. It is a time of trouble and
contention everywhere,--'the harvest truly is plenteous, but the
laborers are few.'"

"There are not so _many_ 'laborers' _here_, mother, though to be sure,
the harvest--"

"Dorothy, my daughter! don't let a spirit of levity creep into thy
speech. Thy father has striven and wrestled with his urgings. I've seen
it working on him all winter; he feels now it is the Lord's will."

"I don't see how he can be so sure," said Dorothy, swaying gloomily to
and fro against the wheel. "I don't care for myself,--I'm not afraid of
work,--but _thee's_ not able to do what thee does _now_, mother. If I
have outside things to look after, how can I help thee as I should? The
boys are about as much dependence as a flock of barn swallows!"

"Don't fret about me, dear; the way will open. Thy father has thought
and planned for us; have patience while I tell thee. Thee knows Walter
Evesham's pond is small and his mill is doing a thriving business?"

"Yes, I know it!" Dorothy exclaimed. "He has his own share, and ours
too--most of it!"

"Wait, dear, wait! Thy father has rented him the ponds to use when his
own gives out. He is to have the control of the water, and it will give
us a little income, even though the old mill does stand idle."

"He may as well take the mill