Noll, "but I was not ready. I held back, and was wicked
and wretched; but it couldn't last alway, and one night when I had
said my prayer and been tucked in bed by mamma's poor weak, patient
hands, I could delay no longer, and throwing my arms about her neck
when she bent down to kiss me, I cried and sobbed, and begged her to
help me find Jesus, who reigned over the city, and mamma cried
too,--tears of joy they were, she said,--and told me that I had not to
seek for him as for a great stranger, but that he stood ready to enter
in and dwell in my heart the moment I yielded it up to him."

"Dat was de bressed troof!" said Hagar, with shining eyes; "an' what
did ye do den, honey?"

"Mamma called papa to come, and he prayed that Jesus would forgive me
and make my heart his own, and help me to always walk in the path that
ends at last at the gate of his city. And," Noll added, turning partly
about to Hagar, "I did give up, and--and I think he forgave me. The
dreary load went off my heart, and I promised Jesus then to never
forget him nor his work. When mamma did at last go to the city, I
promised her the same; when papa went, I promised him too. That is my
promise," said Noll, a little tremulously. "Do you think I can forget
it, Hagar? Do you think I can help wanting to do what is his work?"

Hagar wiped her eyes. "'Spects dere's no need ob answerin' dat
question," said she, quietly; "when de Lord's wid ye, dar ain't nobody
gwine to 'vent yer workin' good, nohow."

"But I don't know how to begin," said Noll, "even if I could do
anything. There's so much to be done, and I've nothing to do with. And
I'm afraid that Uncle Richard will forbid me to do anything about it.
He doesn't want me to go to Culm, he says, and he dislikes the Culm
people."

Hagar did not know what consolation to offer for this unfavorable
prospect. She could not counsel the boy to disobey his uncle's
commands, neither did she accept the idea of having Noll's projects
defeated for lack of permission to carry them out.

"Don' know, honey," said she, after a long meditation; "can't tell ye
nuffin 'bout dat, nohow. But jes' go right on wid yer plans, an' de
Lord'll find a way fur ye. He ken do it,--he ken do it, chile."

But the question was not settled in Noll's mind. It was not a thing to
be undertaken without much deliberation, and, as yet, only the vaguest
of schemes floated through his mind. He wished to aid, he longed to be
doing so