ough then to speak kind to you.
Now the children would starve if it wasn't for me. Where's your
overcoat?" a sudden pallor creeping into her face as she asked the
question. "Yes! where is that overcoat?--what have you done with it that
you haven't it on--where is it?"

"Where d'ye s'pose?" said Amos, roughly.

"Down at the pawn-shop, of course," cried his wife, angrily, "where
every decent coat you ever had has gone. But you promised me you'd never
part with this one, Amos Derby, and you've broke your word. I might have
known you would! And to think how I worked for it, and let the children
do without shoes! It's too bad! I declare it is! I gave twelve dollars
for it only a month ago, and I'll wager you let Levi have it for half o'
that. It's a shame, a dreadful shame."

"Stop that. I won't have it," said Amos in a threatening tone. "There's
no use whining over it now. If you say another word about it I'll go out
again, right off."

"Go!" said Jane, fiercely, "and I wish it was forever! I wish I was
never to look on your face again! You're naught but a trouble and a
disgrace to us all!"

"All right," said Amos, as he pulled on his boots again, "I'm goin'.
I'll take you at your word. You won't see me again in a hurry; now you
just mark that. A trouble and a disgrace, am I?"

"Yes, you are!" said Jane, her anger increasing as her mind dwelt upon
the loss of the coat she had worked so hard to earn. "I mean all I've
said, and more, too! Go! go to Sillbrook's! Ask him to show you the
overcoat he's wearin'. I saw it yesterday, and yours wasn't a
circumstance to it! Go! Give him every penny you've got! He needs it!"
with a bitter little laugh. "His children's feet are all out on the
ground, and his wife hasn't a decent dress to her name," with a glance
at her faded calico gown. "Help him all you can, Amos Derby, he's in
need o' charity."

Amos made no answer. He was considerably more sober than when he had
left the saloon, for the walk home through the fresh winter air had done
him good, and he felt the force of his wife's words. They rung in his
ears as he slammed the kitchen door behind him, and, taking the road
which led by the mill, walked rapidly away.

He was soon in the heart of the town, but he did not think or care where
he was going. His only idea was to get away from the sound of Jane's
sharp voice, and he turned down first one street and then another,
without pausing, until he came to Elm Avenue, on which