We all have our amusements, our rests, our changes; your work is never done; you are worn out, and get no time to read, no time for anything but drudgery." "Don't say drudgery, my boy--work done for those we love _never_ is drudgery.

I'm so happy to have you all around me I never feel it." "But, mother, you are not strong, and I don't see how you can hold out to do all you do." "Well," she said simply, "when my strength is all gone I ask God for more, and he always gives it.

'They that wait on the Lord shall renew their strength.'" And her hand involuntarily fell on the open Bible.
"Yes, I know it," he said, following her hand with his eyes--while "Mother," he said, "I want you to give me your Bible and take mine.

I think yours would do me more good." There was a little bright flush and a pleased smile on his mother's face-- "Certainly, my boy, I will." "I see you have marked your favorite places," he added.

"It will seem like hearing you speak to read them." "With all my heart," she added, taking up the Bible and kissing his forehead as she put it into his hands.
There was a struggle in his heart how to say farewell without saying it-- without letting her know that he was going to leave her.