172 Zom Seven Years Old. a et I a A ee ae ee only play. And everybody gets tired of working sometimes. But they do not mind; they only care for one thing—to get it done, and done well.” “T pulled the weeds out well,” said Tom. “They're all swept away now, and can’t grow again. That’s a comfort.” The next day he set to work once more. He determined to go on without stopping till the two hours were over, and not to mind the hot sun or his back aching, but to be a real worker, And he did so, When he got up at length and stretched himself, there was a splendid heap of weeds to carry away. Then he went into the house and rested, as his work was done. The five other days passed very slowly. Tom thought they would never come to an end. On the very last afternoon he called to his papa and mamma to come and see the border ; and they both cried out— “How tidy! How nice! Why, Tom, you ve done it beautifully !” | Then he went into the study to get his wages.