et at Walter Mason's tin-shop. Each took
out his money and they had in all nine dollars, it being in thirty-six
silver quarters.

"Now," says Peter, "let's visit the three families we have taken under
our charge. We'll go together, and expend the money as we see it is
most needed. Let us go to Uncle Israel's first."

So off they went to Uncle Israel Trask's. The old couple lived in a
small hut at the edge of the village, which was reached by a narrow
lane, and here the six philanthrophists found the old lady, who was
now in her eightieth year, suffering with a severe attack of the
rheumatism, while the old man sat crouched over the fire, shivering
with cold.

"Good day, good day, Uncle Israel."

"Aha, good day, boys, good day," cried the old man, trying to smile.
"Can ye find seats? Sit down somewhere and make yourselves at home.
But ye see it's a poor home that old Israel can offer ye to-day."

"But how are you getting along?" asked Peter, after the party had
found seats.

"Ah, God a'mercy, I won't complain, for he is taking meself and Molly
home fast. Only cold and hunger are not kind helpmates, Mr. Hobbs, ye
ken that, eh?"

"Right well, Uncle Israel. And we have come to help you. Do you want
any medicine?"

"Nay, nay, the old 'ooman's got a' the medicine laid up we want. It's
only the food an' heat we need. I can't wade through the drifting snow
as I could once."

"Suppose we send you a dollar's worth of other things, such as butter,
flour, potatoes and the like--could you live a week on it?"

[Illustration: Pure Religion Is Visiting the Fatherless and Widows in
Their Affliction.]

"Ah, yes, yes, boys, meself and Molly'd live a long, long while on
that. But ye'll not do it for us."

"Yes, we will."

"Ah, it's too much."

"No, no," cried Sam, "we've got to do it, Uncle Israel, for we six
have sworn to help you through the winter. So spunk up."

"D'ye mean that?" uttered the old man, clasping his thin, tremulous
hands.

"We do," they all answered, and then Sam added, "and while one of us
lives, you shall not suffer the want of what one of us can give."

A moment the old man bowed his snow-white head, and then while the big
tears streamed down his face, he raised his eyes and murmured:--

"Oh! God's blessin' be on ye, ye noble boys. If me heart was gold, an'
I could take it out an' give it ye--for it's yours all, all your
own!"

In a little while the six went away, promising to send or come ba