was concerned, to teach a school if she could obtain
a situation. Mrs. Ramsay might obtain work to be done at home, but it
was only a pittance she could earn besides doing her housework. She
wished to have Donald finish his education at the High School, but she
was afraid this was impossible.

Donald, still mourning for his father, who had so constantly been his
companion in the cottage and in the shop, that he could not reconcile
himself to the loss, hardly thought of the future, till his mother spoke
to him about it. He had often, since that bitter Saturday night,
recalled the last words his father had ever spoken to him, in which he
had told him to be a good boy always and take care of his mother and
sister; but they had not much real significance to him till his mother
spoke to him. Then he understood them; then he saw that his father was
conscious of the near approach of death, and had given his mother and
his sister into his keeping. Then, with the memory of him who was gone
lingering near and dear in his heart, a mighty resolution was born in
his soul, though it did not at once take a practical form.

"Don't worry about the future, mother," said he, after he had listened
to her rather hopeless statement of her views.

"I don't worry about it, Donald, for while we have our health and
strength, we can work and make a living. I want to keep you in school
till the end of the year, but I--"

"Of course I can't go to school any more, mother. I am ready to go to
work," interposed Donald.

"I know you are, my boy; but I want you to finish your school course
very much."

"I haven't thought a great deal about the matter yet, mother, but I
think I shall be able to do what father told me."

"Your father did not expect you to take care of us till you had grown
up, I'm sure," added Mrs. Ramsay, who had heard the dying injunction of
her husband to their son.

"I don't know that he did; but I shall do the best I can."

"Poor father! He never thought of anything but us," sighed Mrs. Ramsay;
and her woman's tears flowed freely again, so freely that there was no
power of utterance left to her.

Donald wept, too, as he thought of him who was not only his father, but
his loving companion in study, in work, and in play. He left the house
and walked over to the shop. For the first time since the sad event, he
unlocked the door and entered. The tears trickled down his cheeks as he
glanced at the bench where his father had d