er to get him food and
comfortable clothing?"

"True--true, doctor. It is a hard fate. But I feel that I have only
one way before me--that of submission."

And submit she did, though with a most painful struggle. On the
following day, the friend of the hatter called upon Mrs. Gaston, and
it was settled between them that little Henry should be called for
by the man who was to become his master on the morning of the next
day but one. The best that the mother could do for her son, about to
leave his home and go out among strangers, was to get him a pair of
shoes, upon which she paid forty cents, promising to settle the
balance in a couple of weeks. His thin, scanty clothes she mended
and washed clean--darned his old and much-worn stockings, and sewed
on the torn front of his seal-skin cap. With his little bundle of
clothes tied up, Henry sat awaiting on the morning of the day
appointed for the arrival of his master, his young heart sorrowful
at the thought of leaving his mother and sister. But he seemed to
feel that he was the subject of a stern necessity, and therefore
strove to act a manly part, and keep back the tears that were ready
to flow forth. Mrs. Gaston, after preparing her boy to pass from
under her roof and enter alone upon life's hard pilgrimage, sat down
to her work with an overburdened heart. At one moment she would
repent of what she had done, and half resolve to say "No," when the
man came for her child. But an unanswerable argument against this
were the coarse shirts in her hands, for which she was to receive
only _seven cents a-piece!_

At last a rough voice was heard below, and then a heavy foot upon
the stairs, every tread of which seemed to the mother to be upon her
heart. Little Henry arose and looked frightened as a man entered,
saying as he came in--

"Ah, yes! This is the place, I see. Well, ma'am, is your little boy
ready?"

"He is, sir," replied Mrs. Gaston, almost inaudibly, rising and
handing the stranger a chair. "You see he is a very small boy, sir."

"Yes, so I see. But some small boys are worth a dozen large ones.
Come here, my little fellow! What is your name?"

The child went up to the man, telling him his name as he did so.

"That's a fine little fellow! Well, Henry! do you think you and I
can agree? Oh, yes. We'll get along together very well, I have no
doubt. I suppose, ma'am," he continued, addressing Mrs. Gaston,
"that the better way will be for him to stay this winter on