knew, would come home, wea-ri-ed with la-bour, to share her scan-ty
crust with her boy.

He had not to wait long be-fore the latch lift-ed, and his mo-ther
en-ter-ed. She kiss-ed him, and threw her-self in-to a chair, with the
tears of fa-tigue and ex-haus-tion in her eyes.

He em-bra-ced her, and whis-per-ed in-to her ear his firm resolve to
start out in-to the world, and seek for la-bour, that he might no
long-er be a bur-then to her. Her heart sank at the i-dea; but she saw
no o-ther means to save them from star-va-tion, as her fail-ing strength
gave warn-ing of the in-e-vi-ta-ble e-vil.

The morn-ing a-rose bright and cheer-ful. The old lock-er was o-pen-ed,
and his on-ly shoes, trea-sur-ed for high-days and ho-li-days, were
ta-ken out and brush-ed up, as was al-so his best suit, which was
in-deed ve-ry lit-tle bet-ter than the care-ful-ly mend-ed suit of his
e-ve-ry-day wear. He, how-e-ver, thought him-self ve-ry fine, and felt
that his ap-pear-ance would act as a re-com-men-da-tion in his fa-vour.

They sat down to break-fast: it was a ve-ry tear-ful one, and, with a
strange feel-ing, they a-void-ed each o-ther's looks, hop-ing to hide
their tears one from the o-ther.

Oh! it want-ed a great re-so-lu-tion for poor Wil-lie to say, "Well!
dear mo-ther, I must be start-ing;" but he did do it at last, al-though
it was af-ter ma-ny strug-gles to keep down the beat-ings of his heart.

[Illustration: THE FIRST ASSISTANCE.]

His mo-ther heard him with a be-wil-der-ed look, as if she heard the
pro-po-sal for the first time; and her grief burst forth with
un-con-trol-la-ble vi-o-lence as she threw her arms round his neck with
an a-go-ny on-ly known to a fond mo-ther.

He tried to com-fort her, and to smile through his tears, as he put on
his hat with a re-so-lute thump, seiz-ed up-on his stick and wal-let,
and lift-ed the latch of the door that was to o-pen for his bold
en-trance in-to the world, so full of pro-mise to him.

Again they lin-ger-ed in their lit-tle gar-den, where e-ve-ry flow-er
seem-ed an old friend to be part-ed with: a-gain the tears and the
em-bra-ces. At last the lit-tle gate was swung wide o-pen, and Wil-lie
step-ped bold-ly forth. His mo-ther co-ver-ed her face and wept. He
turn-ed to-wards her with ir-re-so-lu-tion: he felt how dif-fi-cult it
was to leave one so dear and af-fec-tion-ate; but his du-ty was sim-ple,
and he would do it: with one more "good bye," he was gone on his way
weep-in