how I'll like the Wood boy. He hain't no experience."

"He'll get it, sir."

"If you want to stay for two and a quarter--the same I'm going to give
him--I'll tell him I've changed my mind."

"No, sir; it wouldn't be right to put him off now. I guess I'll get
something else to do."

He turned and left the store, walking with a slower step than usual.
His heart was heavy, for he felt that, poorly as they lived hitherto,
they must live more poorly still in the days to come. He reached home
at last, and put the three dollars in his mother's hands.

"I don't know when I shall have any more money to give you, mother," he
said.

"It looks dark, Chester, but the Lord reigns. He will still be our
friend."

There was something in these simple words that cheered Chester, and a
weight seemed lifted from his heart. He felt that they were not quite
friendless, and that there was still One, kinder and more powerful than
any earthly friend, to whom they could look for help.

When Monday morning came he rose at the usual hour and breakfasted.

"I'll go out and take a walk, mother," he said. "Perhaps I may find
some work somewhere."

Almost unconsciously, he took the familiar way to the store, and paused
at a little distance from it. He saw Abel come out with some packages
to carry to a customer. It pained him to see another boy in his place,
and he turned away with a sigh.

During the night four or five inches of snow had fallen. This gave him
an idea. As he came to the house of the Misses Cleveland, two maiden
sisters who lived in a small cottage set back fifty feet from the road,
he opened the gate and went up to the front door.

Miss Jane Cleveland opened it for him.

"Good-morning, Chester," she said.

"Good-morning, Miss Cleveland. I thought you might want to get a path
shoveled to the gate."

"So I would; Hannah tried to do it last time it snowed, but she caught
an awful cold. But ain't you working up at the store?"

"Not now. Mr. Tripp cut down my wages, and I left."

"Do tell. Have you got another place?"

"Not just yet. I thought I'd do any little jobs that came along till I
got one."

"That's right. What'll you charge to shovel a path?"

Chester hesitated.

"Fifteen cents," he answered, at last.

"I'll give you ten. Money's skerce."

Chester reflected that he could probably do the job in half an hour,
and he accepted. It cheered him to think he was earning something,
however small.

He worked