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much there is to do—how many cheering
words are needed, and loving acts. It will
take all your time to find out what is to be
done, and more than your strength to do it.
But you are called to it.”

“Thank you, papa,” said Walter. “ Good-
night.”

He would not have minded the room being
light now. He would not mind either reading
the lives of Washington and Lord Nelson and
the Duke of Wellington over again, or envy
them so dreadfully. He also was called to
his great hidden work.

The sun awoke him by beginning his daily
duty of shining. Bernard, who helped him to
dress, was very cross. He had lost his ball of
string.

“You may have mine,” said Walter. It
was a very little thing to give his ball of string
away, but it was the beginning. When he
went downstairs to the dining-room he found
much more to do. His mamma had a bad
headache. He had to remind Bernard and
James to speak low. Little Jessie was teasing.
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