every thing that poor people stand in need
of, are very cheap. The actual necessaries of life cost but little,
you know. How far above the condition of the starving Irish, or the
poor operatives in the manufacturing portions of England, is that of
the people who work for us! Think of that for a moment."

"True-very true," replied the partner. "Well," ha continued, "I
think we had better put the screws on to our workwomen and
journeymen at once. I am tired of plodding on at this rate."

"So am I. To-night, then, after we close the store, we will arrange
our new bill of prices, and next week bring all hands down to it."

And they were just as good as their word. And it happened just as
they said--the poor workwomen had to submit.

But we must return from our digression.

The child who, under the practical operation of a system of which
the above dialogue gives some faint idea, had to go out from his
home at the tender age of ten years, because his mother, with all
her hard toil, early and late, at the prices she obtained for her
labor, could not earn enough to provide a sufficiency of food and
clothes for her children--that child passed on, unheeding, and,
indeed, unhearing the jibes of the happier children of his mother's
oppressor; and endeavored, sad and sorrowful as he felt, to nerve
himself with something of a manly feeling. At Charlestown, Mr. Sharp
got into his chaise, and, with the lad he had taken to raise, drove
home.

"Well, here is the youngster, Mrs. Sharp," he said, on alighting
from his vehicle. "He is rather smaller and punier than I like, but
I have no doubt that he will prove willing and obedient."

"What is his name?" asked Mrs. S., who had a sharp chin, sharp nose,
and sharp features throughout; and, with all, rather a sharp voice.
She had no children of her own--those tender pledges being denied
her, perhaps on account of the peculiar sharpness of her temper.

"His name is Henry," replied her husband.

"Henry what?"

"Henry Gaston, I believe. Isn't that it, my boy?"

Henry replied in the affirmative. Mr. Sharp then said--

"You can go in with Mrs. Sharp, Henry. She will tell you what she
wants you to do."

"Yes, come along." And Mrs. Sharp turned away as she spoke, and
retired into the more interior portion of the house, followed by the
boy.

"Mrs. Sharp will tell you what she wants you to do?" Yes, that'
tells the story. From this hour the child is to become the
drudge--the hewer