serve all the energy, the
stamina, they have, to drag round the city--barefoot, it may be, and in
the cold--to beg for food, and scratch up what they can find among the
cinder-heaps. They groan over past comforts and past times, perhaps,
and think of the days when their limbs were strong, and their cheeks
were smooth--for they were not always `hags',--and remember that _once_
they had friends who loved them and cared for them, although they are
old, unknown, and desolate now."

Tom paused and pressed his hand upon his flushed forehead.

"You may think it strange," he continued, "that I speak to you in this
way about poor old women, but I feel _deeply_ for their forlorn
condition. The young can help themselves, more or less, and they have
strength to stand their sorrows, with _hope_, blessed hope, to keep them
up; but _poor_ old men and old women cannot help themselves and cannot
stand their sorrows, and, as far as this life is concerned, they have
_no hope_; except to die soon and easy, and, if possible, in
summer-time, when the wind is not so very cold and bitter."

"But how can this be put right, Tom?" asked Fred in a tone of deep
commiseration. "Our being sorry for it, and anxious about it (and
you've made me sorry, I assure you) can do very little good, you know."

"I don't know, Fred," replied Tom, sinking into his usual quiet tone.
"If every city and town in Great Britain would start a society whose
first resolution should be that they would not leave one poor _old_ man
or woman unprovided for, _that_ would do it. Or if the Government would
take it in hand _honestly_, that would do it."

"Call all hands, Mr Bolton," cried the captain in a sharp voice. "Get
out the ice-poles, and lower away the boats."

"Hallo! what's wrong!" said Fred, starting up.

"Getting too near the bergs, I suspect," remarked Tom. "I say, Fred,
before we go on deck, will you promise to do what I ask you?"

"Well--yes, I will."

"Will you promise, then, all through your life, especially if you ever
come to be rich or influential, to think _of_, and _for_, old men and
women who are poor?"

"I will," answered Fred, "but I don't know that I'll ever be rich, or
influential, or able to help them much."

"Of course you don't. But when a thought about them strikes you, will
you always _think it out_, and, if possible, _act it out_, as God shall
enable you?"

"Yes, Tom, I promise to do that as well as I can."

"That's right, th