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Claude sorrowfully pounded the alkali clods. How tiresome the work was, and how uncomfortably warm the sun! The boy worked dejectedly. After a while, pausing to take breath, he looked up and found Neil also pausing.

“We are tired,” said Neil, with a friendly smile.

“Don’t you hate this work?” exclaimed Claude vehemently. “I wouldn’t touch it, if Cousin Harriet didn’t make me.”

The hired man looked kindly at the small, tired boy.

“It is not most pleasant,” he returned, “but what I think of makes me glad while I work.”

“What do you think of?” asked Claude, giving an alkali clod a push.

“I was thinking,” answered Neil gently, “how once I had a hard heart–very hard. It was like these clods, where nothing good can grow. People who looked at me could see that my heart was hard. Men would have said, ‘Neil’s heart can never be different’ But Jesus took away my hard heart and gave me a new one. That is what makes me glad all the time, though I work on these hard alkali clods. Some day this patch we work on will be different. There will be beautiful, green, growing crops on it. But that is not so great a change as it is to change a hard heart and get a new heart from our Savior.”

Claude did not say anything. He bent over the hard clods and worked silently, but he was not thinking of his work. He was remembering his mother’s voice as it had sounded nights when she had knelt beside his bed and prayed that her boy might become a Christian. There had been one night that Claude would always remember, when his mother had come for the last time to his bedside, and prayed feebly for her boy. The next week she had died.

Claude looked up at Neil, now. The man evidently found the work hard, but his face showed that he had spoken truly when he said that he was glad, even though he did work on the hard, alkali clods.

“I wish I were like Neil,” thought Claude.

The wish grew. It changed into an earnest prayer, not that he might be like Neil, but a prayer for the same blessing that Neil had–a new heart. No earnest prayer for that gift is ever met by a refusal. Neil watched Claude anxiously, as they worked day by day.

“We can’t change ourselves, any more than this alkali plot can change itself,” said Neil, “but we can yield ourselves and our life to the blessed Jesus and love him, for he is love.”

One day, Claude said softly, “I’ve done it, Neil. I’ve given myself to Jesus.”

The face of the hired man glowed with added happiness through the toiling days that followed. When the alkali clods were broken and plowed, gypsum was scattered on the land and harrowed in. Then water was turned on and allowed to stand several inches deep over the alkali plot. The water stood for several weeks. Gradually it soaked through the soil and passed out into the drainage pit. After several soakings, alternating with breaking of clods and treatment with gypsum, the former alkali patch was given some seed. How the men watched the land day after day, and how the first green sprouts of corn were hailed! The alkali patch was changed. Cousin Harriet was rejoiced.

“There’s so much land saved,” she said. “It’s a great change.”

Neil listened to the words as in a parable. He was thinking of a greater change. He was rejoicing over the boy of the household.

Months had gone by. One day there was a joyful outcry at the farm-house. The little girls rushed out to meet their father. With him was their mother’s sister, Aunt Jennie, with her husband and little boy.

Claude was on the ranch at work, and did not hear the joyful outcry at first.

He was not aware of the new-comers, till his father and the two little girls rushed where Claude was working, and the boy’s father caught him in a close embrace.