the head of the stairs until her
mother was out of the way, and then went quickly down. She managed to
leave the house without being seen by any one, and took her way,
through the deep and untracked snow, towards the mill, which was about
a quarter of a mile off. The air was bitter cold, and the storm still
continued; but the child plodded on, chilled to the very heart, as she
soon was, and, at length, almost frozen, reached the mill. The owner
had observed her approach from the window, and wondering who she was,
or what brought so small a child to the mill through the cold and
storm, went down to meet her.

"Bless me! little one!" he said, lifting her from the ground and
placing her within the door. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

"I'm George's sister, and I've come to work in his place till he gets
well," replied the child, as she stood, with shivering body and
chattering teeth, looking up earnestly into the man's face.

"George Foster's sister?"

"Yes, sir. His hand's hurt so he can't work, and I've come to work in
his place."

"You have! Who sent you, pray?"

"Nobody sent me."

"Does your mother know about your coming?"

"No, sir."

"Why do you want to work in George's place?"

"If I do, then you'll send mother a dollar and a half every week, won't
you?"

The owner of the mill was a kind-hearted man, and this little incident
touched his feelings.

"You are not big enough to work in the mill, my child," said he, kindly.

"I'm nine years old," replied Emma, quickly.

"Oh yes! I can work as well as anybody. Do let me come in George's
place! Won't you?"

Emma had not been gone very long before she was missed. Her mother had
become quite alarmed about her, when she heard sleigh-bells at the
door, and, looking out, saw the owner of the mill and her child.
Wondering what this could mean, she went out to meet them.

"This little runaway of yours," said the man, in a pleasant voice,
"came trudging over to the mill this morning, through the snow, and
wanted to take the place of George, who was so badly hurt yesterday, in
order that you might get, as she said, a dollar and a half every week."

"Why, Emma!" exclaimed her mother, as she lifted her from the sleigh.
"How could you do so? You are not old enough to work in your brother's
place."

"Besides," said the man, "there is no need of your doing so; for George
shall have his dollar and a half, the same as ever, until he is able to
go to work aga