Mrs. Ramsay, as she threw her arms around his
neck. "Your poor father is gone!"

The boy could not speak; he could not even weep, though his grief was
not less intense than that of his mother and sister. They groaned, and
sobbed, and sighed together, till kind neighbors led them from the
chamber of death, vainly endeavoring to comfort them. It was hours
before they were even tolerably calm; but they could speak of nothing,
think of nothing, but him who was gone. The neighbors did all that it
was necessary to do, and spent the night with the afflicted ones, who
could not separate to seek their beds. The rising sun of the Sabbath
found them still up, and still weeping--those who could weep. It was a
long, long Sunday to them, and every moment of it was given to him who
had been a devoted husband and a tender father. On Monday, all too soon,
was the funeral; and all that was mortal of Alexander Ramsay was laid in
the silent grave, never more to be looked upon by those who had loved
him, and whom he had loved.

The little cottage was like a casket robbed of its single jewel to those
who were left. Earth and life seemed like a terrible blank to them. They
could not accustom themselves to the empty chair at the window where he
sat when his day's work was done; to the vacant place at the table,
where he had always invoked the blessing of God on the frugal fare
before them; and to the silent and deserted shop on the other side of
the street, from which the noise of his hammer and the clip of his adze
had come to them. A week wore away and nothing was done but the most
necessary offices of the household. The neighbors came frequently to
beguile their grief, and the minister made several visits, bearing to
them the consolations of the gospel, and the tender message of a genuine
sympathy.

But it is not for poor people long to waste themselves in idle
lamentations. The problem of the future was forced upon Mrs. Ramsay for
solution. If they had been able only to live comfortably on the earnings
of the dead husband, what should they do now when the strong arm that
delved for them was silent in the cold embrace of death? They must all
work now; but even then the poor woman could hardly see how she could
keep her family together. Barbara was eighteen, but she had never done
anything except to assist her mother, whose health was not very good,
about the house. She was a graduate of the High School, and competent,
so far as education