oor woman wrote a doleful letter to Ben, in which she predicted
that Tony and herself must soon go to the poorhouse.

When this letter reached Ben his duty was set plainly before him.
From his regular income he could spare two dollars a week, and,
taking two dollars weekly from his reserve fund, he would be
enabled to allow his aunt four dollars a week, which, added to her
own earnings, would maintain her and Tony in comfort.

"My dear aunt," he wrote, "don't talk of going to the poorhouse just
yet. You forget that you have a rich nephew in Boston, who is
unwilling that any of his relations should live at public expense unless
they get into public office. I don't suppose there is any chance of
your getting elected member of Congress. As it is, I shall send you
every week four, dollars, which I hope will provide you with your
usual comfort. I can keep up this allowance for twenty weeks, and
that will carry you nearly to the time when Emma will return to you;
then all will be right again."

Ben began to save a dollar more. He wanted to prepare for the time
when his little fund would be exhausted. If by that time he had twelve
dollars more, he would be able to continue to his aunt her regular
allowance, till the six months were at an end. The thought that he
had arranged matters so satisfactory made Ben quite cheerful. He
realized the advantage of the habit of saving. He was encouraged
also by some help which he received from the bookkeeper.

"Ben," said he, "do you spend all your salary?"

"Yes, Mr. Porter, I am obliged to."

"I should think you could save something out of eight dollars a week,
as only four goes for board."

"So I could, but I have to help my aunt."

"I thought she was provided for," said Mr. Porter.

"Doesn't she get seven dollars a week for boarding a little girl?"

"She did; but the little girl is now in Europe."

"I suppose you cannot send much to your aunt."

"I send her four dollars a week."

"Four dollars a week!" exclaimed the young man, in surprise. "Why,
that allows you nothing after paying your board."

The Ben told his friend about his savings.

"Doesn't it seem hard to have your earnings used up in this way?"
asked the bookkeeper.

"No," answered Ben cheerfully.

"You are an excellent boy, Ben. You have done just the right thing.
I am glad you are so unselfish."

"I am afraid I am selfish as the majority of boys; but I am not mean
enough to let my aunt and l