. "I should hope
not! Why, honey, is your mind running continually on such dreadful
things? I am afraid your father and I allow you to hear us talk too
frequently about family matters. You must not assume the family's
burdens at your age."

There was that trend to Nan Sherwood's character, however. With all
her blithesomeness and high spirits she was inclined to be serious in
thought.

This conversation occurred several days after the evening when, on their
way home from school, Nan and her school chum, Bess Harley, had read the
yellow poster at the gate of the Atwater Mills.

The district surrounding the mills, in which most of the hands lived,
had put on an aspect of mourning. Some of the workmen and their families
had already packed up and gone. Most of the houses occupied by the hands
were owned by the Atwater Company, and if the poor people remained till
January 15th, the wages due them then would be eaten up by the rent of
the tenements.

So they were wise to leave when they could. Many who remained would be a
burden upon the taxpayers of Tillbury before the winter was over.

Nan and her folks were not in such a sad situation as the laborers, of
course. Mr. Sherwood had a small sum in bank. He had, too, a certain
standing in the community and a line of credit at the stores that he
might have used.

Debt, however, save that upon their house, he had fought to keep out of
all his married life. That his equity in the Amity Street cottage was so
small was not his fault; but he owed not any man.

"Now we must go fishing," Mrs. Sherwood said, in her sprightly way, when
the little family really discussed the unfortunate situation after the
announcement of the shut-down of the mills was made public.

"Goodness, Momsey! What a reckless creature you are," laughed Mr.
Sherwood. "Waste our precious time in such employment, and in the dead
of winter, too?"

"Now, Papa Sherwood, I don't mean that kind of fishing at all!" cried
the little woman gaily. "We are going to fish for employment for you,
perhaps for a new home."

"Oh!" gasped Nan. The thought of deserting the little cottage on Amity
Street was a dreadful shock.

"We must face that possibility," said her mother firmly. "It may be.
Tillbury will see very hard times now that the mills are closed. Other
mills and shops will follow suit."

"Quite true, Momsey," agreed the husband and father.

"I am a very logical person, am I not?" said the smiling little lad