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Joel's voice was less positive than his words, owing to an inward uncertainty as to the trend of these observations. "Well, Mr. Dale, there's lots of us that are ready to take up our share of the duties the Creator designed for us. We are standing waiting like the people in the parable that nobody had hired. The trouble is you won't let us, you men won't.
Yes, my friends, this is the lesson which we have to learn from Joel's prophecy, and from all prophecies. This lesson the old prophets learnt for themselves, slowly and dimly, through many temptations and sorrows. This lesson our Lord Jesus Christ revealed fully, and left behind him to his apostles.
Then his face brightened, and he said, "And she's right, Polly," while Polly fished a franc out of Joel's little money-bag that hung at her belt. "Do get the stamps, please, Jasper, and put them on," as he took up her two letters. And she gave the bag a little pat for Joel's sake, wishing it was his stubby black hair that her fingers could touch.
For to this brother of hers it had been given to redeem a life of weakness and failure by a single heroic sacrifice and to die a man. The winter following Joel's death was unusually severe and to Persis seemed well-nigh endless.
A telephone had been installed in the house the day following the communication from the legal advisers of the late Persis Ann Crawford and this in spite of Joel's passionate protests. "May be a hoax for all you know. Better wait till the money's in your hand before you run into extravagance piling up debts for us to work off later.
"And she's worked herself most to death to get us through it," said Ben. Polly had seized the big knife, and taken one step toward the wonderful cake. Now she stopped, and looked over at Joel. "You may," she said, smiling brightly. "Oh, goody!" cried Joel, plunging forward. Then he stopped suddenly, on meeting his mother's eye. "I'd rather not," he said. "Go on, Polly, Joel's right," said Mrs.
"Well, you were made to go," laughed Polly. "I said if you'd go good, you know; so run along, Joe, and I'll tell you a nice one to-morrow." "It's got to be long," shouted Joel, when he saw he could get no more, making good time up to the loft. To say that Polly, in the following days, was Master Joel's slave, was stating the case lightly.
Mayn't I go back, now?" he asked, looking longingly over at the group on the floor. "I know what's the matter with Dave," said Ben, wisely. "He's been so many animals this week, Joel's made him, that he's tired to death," "I think you're right, Ben," said Mrs. Pepper.
But Joel's cup was not yet filled. When he returned to the dormitory after supper, he found two missives awaiting him. You are to take the place of Post at L.H.B. It will be necessary for you to report at the gym at eleven each day for noon signals; please arrange your recitations to this end. I am writing this because I couldn't see you this afternoon; hope you are all right. Yours,
Joel's black eyes stuck out as he saw the big peppermint drops, pink ones and white ones, rolling round in the drawer the minute it was pulled open. "Can I have as many as I want, Grandma?" he screamed, hopping off from the bed to hang over the drawer. "Yes," said Grandma, delighted to think she could do something to help, "'cause you've hurt your hand." "I'm glad I hurt it!" exclaimed Joel.
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