the means look discouragingly small. Mr. Croft was praised for his
generous conduct, and not only praised, but helped by many who had,
until now, felt indifferent, towards his case--for his good work
rebuked them for neglected opportunities.

The cripple's eagerness to learn, and rapid progress under the most
limited advantages, becoming generally known, a gentleman, whose son
had been one of Tom's visitors, and who had grown to be a better boy
under his influence, offered to send him in his wagon every day to
the school-house, which stood half a mile distant, and have him
brought back in the afternoon.

It was the happiest day in Tom's life when he was helped down from
the wagon, and went hobbling into the school-room.

Before leaving home on that morning he had made his way up to the
sick room of Mr. Croft.

"I owe it all to you," he said, as he brought the white, thin hand
of his benefactor to his lips. It was damp with more than a kiss
when he laid it back gently on the bed. "And our Father in heaven
will reward you."

"You have done a good work," said the neighbor, who had urged Mr.
Croft to improve his one talent, as he sat talking with him on that
evening about the poor cripple and his opening prospects; "and it
will serve you in that day when the record of life is opened. Not
because of the work itself, but for the true charity which prompted
the work. It was begun, I know, in some self-denial, but that
self-denial was for another's good; and because you put away love of