Then we shouted bits of gossip, or happy ideas that struck us, to each other across the garden.

And full of youth and hopefulness, in the sunshine of these summer Sundays, we gave ourselves credit for clear-sightedness in all our opinions, and promised ourselves success for every plan, and gratitude from all our proteges.
Mr.Andrewes had started a Sunday School with great success (Sunday Schools were novelties then), and Mr.Clerke was a teacher.

At last, to my great delight, I was allowed to take the youngest class, and to teach them their letters and some of the Catechism.
About this time I firmly resolved to be a parson when I grew up.

My great practical difficulty on this head was that I must, of course, live at Dacrefield, and yet I could not be the Rector.

My final decision I announced to Mr.Andrewes.
"Mr.Clerke and I will always be curates, and work under you." On which the tutor would sigh, and say, "I wish it could be so, Regie, for I do not think I shall ever like any other place, or church, or people so well again." At this time my alms-box was well filled, thanks to the liberality of Mr.Clerke.He now taxed his small income as I taxed my pocket-money (a very different matter!), and though I am sure he must sometimes have been inconveniently poor, he never failed to put by his share of our charitable store.
Some brooding over the matter led me to say to him one Sunday, "You and I, sir, are like the widow and the other people in the lesson to-day: I put into the box out of my pocket-money, and you out of your living." The tutor blushed painfully; partly, I think, at my accurate comprehension of the difference between our worldly lots, and partly in sheer modesty at my realizing the measure of his self-sacrifice.
When first he began to contribute, he always kept back a certain sum, which he as regularly sent away, to whom I never knew.