Rufus started off on the errand and soon, returned carrying the brush in a small tin pail, half-full of water.

“Mr. Jones is much obliged to you for the use of it,” he said to his uncle, “and he’s sorry that he hasn’t had time to wash out the brush.”

Mr. Bates looked rather annoyed.  Accustomed to perfect order himself, he was often irritated by the slovenly ways of his neighbor.

“Then there’s nothing for you to do but repair damages as well as you can.  What color of paint is in the brush?”

“Red, sir.”

“And you want to use green.  You’ll have to go to the house and get some warm soap-suds and give the brush a thorough washing.”

Rufus found that he had plenty of occupation for some time after that.  The brush was soaked up to the handle in the bright red paint, and it was a work of patience to give it the necessary cleaning.  Indeed, dinner time found him just ready to begin the task which might have been easily accomplished in the morning had it not been for that long delay.

After dinner he and Uncle Giles again repaired to the barn, where the elder cleaned harness while the younger painted.

“I think I begin to realize,” said Rufus, “that your plan of having tools ready is a good one.”

“Yes, it’s good, no matter what sort of work you’re going to do.  I believe you wish to be a minister one of these days, don’t you, Rufus?”

“Yes, I think so now, Uncle.”

“Then you are getting some of your tools ready when you are studying Latin and history and other things in school.  And you are getting others ready when you read the Bible, and when you study your Sunday-school lesson, and when you listen to the preaching of your minister.  You need to take pains to remember what you learn in these ways, for the good things in your memory will be the tools that you will have constant use for.

“I know a young man who is now studying for the ministry.  I think he will succeed, for he is very much in earnest and he has natural ability, too.  Yet he finds his task rather difficult, because he had no opportunity to study when he was younger.  He has not been trained to think or to remember, and the work he is doing now is something like your washing the paint brush this morning.  It must all be done before he can go on to anything better, and he regrets that it was not done at the proper time.”

“I suppose that the moral for me is to improve my privileges.”

“Yes, that’s just it.  Improve your privileges by getting ready beforehand for the work of life.  If the paint brush teaches you this lesson, you may be glad that you had to stop to get it clean.”

    The Pied Piper of Hamelin.

    (A Child’s Story.)

    BY ROBERT BROWNING.

    I.