Mrs. Burnham took the paper, and asked the woman to wait while she
read it. There was something in the fact that these boys had passed
resolutions of sympathy that touched her heart. She unfolded the
soiled paper and read:--

Wee, the braker Boys of burnham braker in mass meeting met Did
pass thease res'lutions. first the braker Boys is all vary sory
indede Cause mister Burnham dide.

second Wee have A grate dele of sympathy for his wife and his
little girl, what has got to get along now without him. third wee
are vary Proud of him cause he dide a trying to save John Welshes
life and pat Morys life and the other mens lifes. fourth he was
vary Good indede to us Boys, and they ain't one of us but what
liked him vary mutch and feel vary bad. fift Wee dont none of us
ixpect to have no moar sutch good Times at the braker as wee did
Befoar. sixt Wee aint scollers enougth to rite it down just what
wee feel, but wee feel a hunderd times more an what weave got rote
down.

JOE FOSTER, comity,

PAT DONNELLY, comity,

his solem mark

JACK + MURFY comity.

The widow laid aside the paper, put her face in her hands, and began
to weep. There was something in the honest, unskilled way in which
these boys had laid their hearts open before her in this time of
general sorrow, that brought the tears into her eyes at last, and for
many minutes they flowed without restraint. Those who were with her
knew that the danger that had menaced her was passed.

After a little she lifted her head.

"I will see the boys," she said. "I will thank them in person. Tell
them to assemble in the hall."

The message was given, and the boys filed into the broad hall, and
stood waiting, hats in hand, in silence and in awe.

Down the wide staircase the lady came, holding her little girl by the
hand, and at the last step they halted. As Ralph looked up and saw her
face, pallid but beautiful, and felt the influence of her gracious yet
commanding presence, there came over him again that strange sensation
as of beholding some familiar sight. It seemed to him that sometime,
somewhere, he had not only seen her and known her, but that she had
been very close to him. He felt an almost uncontrollable impulse to
cry out to her for some word, some look of recognition. Then she began
to speak. He held himself firmly by the back of a chair, and listened
as to a voice that had been familiar