gave them to him because he looked so sad, just as if he
had not a happy home, or loving papa and mamma like I have. I felt so
sorry for him, and I wanted to tell him so. I'm sure he hasn't got any
mother, or he would not look so."

"Never mind, Laura, my dear. Do not worry about Minnie. She is all
right. Let her act from the dictates of her kind, innocent heart,"
returned the little one's father.

"Oh, yes! let her alone, and in years to come she will from the
dictates of her kind heart, be giving herself away to some motherless,
fameless and moneyless young man, I fear!" said the worldly and
far-seeing mother.

"But not senseless man, I'll warrant you," was the laughing reply.

* * * * *

"Why, William, my dear boy, why can you not be satisfied to remain
here with me? Why do you wish to go away? 'Idle life!' 'Making a
living and do some good!' Humph, sir! you need not be idle. Read to
me; ride with me. As for your living, sir, I made that for you before
you were born; and now I intend you shall enjoy it. Now, my boy, my
son in all my heart's dearest affections, stay with me. Wait until the
old man is gone; then you will have time enough to be useful to
others."

"Mr. Lincoln--uncle, father!--yes, more than father--your wish must be
mine. Did you not, fifteen years ago, take in a poor, wretched,
friendless, homeless boy--bless him with your care and protection,
educate, fulfill all his brightest hopes by giving him a profession,
which will not only make him independent, but enable him to help and
comfort others. Let me prove my gratitude in any way."

"Come, come, do not talk of gratitude. Oh, my boy, if you only knew
what deep joy it has afforded me, having you here. I will tell you
now, William, why it was I so readily opened my heart and home to the
little wanderer I found that Thanksgiving afternoon so long ago. When
I first looked into your eyes there was a strange, familiar expression
about them that aroused my interest. Upon questioning you I found that
the son of the only woman I had ever loved was before me! My heart
yearned to help you; otherwise I should have relieved you from present
want, and then informed your father of your whereabouts. Yes, my boy,
the love I bore your mother was never transferred to another woman.
Your father and myself were her suitors at the same time. He proved
the fortunate one. Having you with me all these years has been a great
solace; and