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I// ..n.^ ^^. >** V^>^^ >)" J'/ < % fe i 3? 1.0 I.I Vita wii ■50 ■^~ !!■■ ■^ 1^ 112.2 ^ mAr\ I 2.0 11125 III 1.4 m Hiotographic .Sciences Corporation 23 WIST MAIN STMET WEBSTER, H.Y. 14580 (716) S73-4S03 \ ^ '^ — ^ cs ' r / 1 Oihtr Books •» this Strits by the sattit Author- FOUR GIRLS AT CHAUTAUQUA CHAUTAUQUA GIRLS AT HOME CHRISTIE'S CHRISTMAS AN ENDLESS CHAIN RUTH ERSKINE'S CROSSES LINKS IN REBECCAS LIFE MRS SOLOMON SMITH LOOKING ON FROM DIFFERENT STANDPOIN'IS THREE PEOPLE L-ESTER RIED ESTER RIED YET SPEAKING JULIA RIED WISE AND OTHERWISE THE KING'S DAUGHTER THE HALL IN THE GROVE A NEW GRAFT THE POCKET MEASURE HOUSEHOLD PUZZLES TIP LEWIS AND HIS LAMP IDNEY MARTIN'S CHKIJTMAS LITTLE FISHERS SPUN FROM FACT THE RANDOLPHS ONE COMMONPLACE DAY CHRISSY'S ENDEAVOUR '\ THF, "i MAN OF THE HOUSE BY PANSY A / Author of ''Four Girh at Chautauqua," " Livks in Rebecca's Life," ^i/Ester Ried," "The Pocket Measure," etc. WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED LONDON, MELBOURNE AND TORONTO / w CONTENTS II. ni. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. xn. XIII. XIV. XV. XVL XVII. XVIII. HJS flOMB . , , Reuben's quautbr A RACE WITH "spunk" ANOTHER DISAPPOINTMENT MISS PRR'CILLA HUNTER a wild ride , , spunk's home . , TEMPTATION RESIST KD . ANXIETY , , , THE RETURN LOOKINO FOR WORK , REUBEN ON THE RAIL THE NEW HOME . IN THE BOX FACTORY . CLAKKE POTTER . REUBEN CONQUERS SAMSON . SOME NEW EXPERIENCES FOR REUBEN, &KUBKN TAKSS TWO fAIiiONEiU . 7 II II 90 28 43 S4 69 78 91 103 116 127 142 iS3 163 1/6 190 «i cur iRSJs. SIX. rW THF lilTTLl HOUi.K AT HOMS XX. A OKNKKAL BU RPBI8B SXL SHOW YOUR COLOURA . XXII. HE TAKES A MIW STEP XXID. THI IR riRST PARTY . XXIY. HOW IT ENDED . XXV. AT BETH's HUOObSTIOIk XXVI. WHAT FOLLOWED IT - &JlfIL JU8TIC1 AT LAST •4M 20I J5I ai62 273 386 THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. CHAl^TER 1- HIS HOME. It vvaa a little bit of a room, dingy and dreary. J can't remember that there was a single bright thing in it. The sun only got a chance to look in for about tive minutes, just before it went to bed at night ; the rest of the time it was around on the other side (d the house, where there wasn't a window, nor a chink tliat it could peep through. You want to know who lived in this house and stayed in this sunless room ? Why Reuben Stone's mother and sister Beth. The sister's name was Elizabeth, but she was a little crea- ture, and nobody ever spoke her full name. As for Heuben, being the man of the house, he was apt to be on the street from morning till night, trying to pick up odd jobs. School ? Bless you ! no, he didn't go to school ; his jackets were out at the elbows, and his pants were out at the kuees, and hxa shoes wer<» P THE MAN OF THR II VSR. out at tlie toeb, Rnd in very cold weatlier he bed nothing extra to wear around him except an old red and green plaid shawl of his mother's ; he didn't like to wear that, because the boys shouted after hira and called him " iJutchy." So in mry cold weathei- he was apt to plan to do all his enuiula in the evening, when the boys wouldn't notice the shawl. Neither did Beth go to school, for much the same reasons that kept Reuben at home. Besides, she could help ; her mother sat all day long, in that one low chair by that one window, and sewed as fast as she could, on boys' shirts for one of the wholesale stores in the city ; and Beth could overhand some of the seams, and hem the edges, and take many stitches in the course of the day to help her mother ; so as soon as their bit of housework was done — and you would have been astonished to see what a little time it took to do the housework — Beth would draw her chair as ck)se to her mother's as she could get it, and they two would sew. It was getting dark in the room ; the sun had looked in, and said good-night to them, as if he were in too much of a hurry to stay even as long as usual, and the shadow of the big bam next to them was creeping further and further over the house. The fire was getting down, too; in fact, they always shut the dampers about the time the sun was expected, so as to save all the coal they could. Beth shivered, and drew her chair away from the window. ** Mother," she said, " sha'u't i open the damper, B/S HOME. f •nd Iftt the fire roar jnst a Tiiinute ? It's avful cold here ; my hauds are bhie." Mrs. Stone looked up from her seam with a sigh. " Yes," she said; "of courHe, it won't do to get cold ; the next thing would be a doctor's bill. But we must be as careful as we can, for lieuben said this morning he didn't beliove the coal would last until Saturday." Beth opened the dampers and poked the dull coals H very little, then stooped down before the stove, warming her hauds. " I wish we could have something warm for supper to-night," she said. " Mother, do you remember it is Reuben's birthday ? " " Yes, I do," the mother said, shutting her lips tight ; " I thought last week we would have some- thing warm for his birthday. I meant to have roast potatoes and a little bit of cake ; but I couldn't get those shirts done, you know, and so that plan had to be given up." Beth dre v a little sigh. "I wish we weren't so awful poor!" she said, drearily ; '* just think ! we can't even have baked potatoes for a treat once in a while! Isnt that horrid ? " " We have them for dinner quite often, you know," her mother reminded her. " Oh, yes ; I know. But I'd like, now and then, to have something for supper. Just bread and milk ! Sometimes I'm ugly enough to be most sorry that Ueubeu gets a quart of milk a day for taking cai*e of 1« THE MAN OF THE HOUSM. tbat cow. If he didn't we'd have to have uomething else, now ami thtrn." " I dou't believe I'd take the trouble to quarrel with the ouly luxury we have," Mrs. Stoue Haid, gravely ; and Beth laughed, aud L)egr.u to clear off the little table, and put three plateu and three cupu on it. " If you could have a cup cf tea once in a while, 1 don't believe I'd mind about the rest so much," she said, efter bustling about in silenc i foi a few r.inutes. " Oh, well, I do once in a vrhile you know. We had tea on Thanksgiving Day, and again on Christmas. What are you talking about ? " Bfth tried to laugh again, but the mention of Christmas made her remember that the first day of the year was very near. " Just think ! " she said, '' to-morrow will be New Yeuv's eve ! I don't believe there is another ^mily in this town who are not planning to go somewhere, or have company, or do sometliiug nice on New Year's. Mother, I can't help it ; I Uiink it is just awftd to be so poor ! " Mrs. Stoce had no answer to this ; sometimes it seemed haivl to her not to know what her children would have next to eat, or whether they would have any- thiig; but she had lived long enough to know that it would do no good to tret about it. Beth went about the room in silence after that, until the little table was set with its loaf of bread and pail of milk, then she found new cause for trouble. " Mother, what do you suppose can keep Reuben ^o ? It is evei so much later than he generally comes." I CHAPTER li R RUBEN'S QUARTER. What kept Reuben was this ; it had been what he called one of hie " nnl icky *' days. The errand-boys, and news-boys, and ali other boys who had regular positions had been on hind, and nobody seemed to want anything carried anywhere, thongh the streets were full of people, with their arms full of bundles. It was getting near to sunset, the time when he generally went home to get orders about the errands for the night, and he had but five cents in his pocket. He knew just how much, or rather how little, flour, and coal, and potatoes there were in the house, and he knew that his mother had no money. He had hoped to have a grand day for business, and bring home at least twenty cents, and here it was, even worsd than usual. Reuben Stone was ten years old, and rather a utll boy for his age ; but he rubbed his worn-out jacket sleeve across his eyes, and made up his mind tliat this was a pretty hard world to live in. Generally, he managed to keep cheerful enough to wbi^e moat of the time, but to-night he kept hifi Up shut tight, and trudged along with his h«Mi ** KaMm^ ! " shouted a man from aoroas the It THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. Reuben looked up. A man with a horse and sleigh, standing in front of I'arker', grocery, was beckoning to him. He clipped over the snowy road in haste. " Do you know enough to hold a horse, my boy ? ^ the gentleman asked him : a young gentleman with a pleasant face, and a wicked-looking horse he was trying to hold. " I rather think I do, sir," Reuben said, cheerily. " Well, then, attend to this one ; he is hungry and cold, and determined to go home, before I am ready to have him." Reuben took hold of the bridle, and the young man went into ihe store. What a hurry that horse was in, to be sure ! He stepped forward a little, and, finding himself held, tried going backward ; then he stood on hia hind feet for a change ; tbon he made plunges forward as though he were going to jump over Reuben and the carriage in front of him, and vanish. Reuben tugged at the bridle, and danced backward or forward according to the motions of the horse, but held on firmly, all the while giving the horse good bits of advice. " Oome now, you don't get along any faster to pay for all that. Might as well stand still, and look about you, and take comfort. You will get home just as soon as you will to prance around in this way like an idiot. Oh, you can't go ! You may jerk as hard as you like, and I sha'n't let go, not if I know myself ; but you are a spunky fellow now, as ever I saw. My! ain't it getting cold, though ! I don't wonder yon dance : good way to keep warm. I guess that master of yoors is going RPJ'PRIV'S QUARTER IS to buy ont the grocery and set up iu buniness. Here he cornea — good for him ! Fm glad, and I guess yoa are ! ''Well," said the young man, "I made qnit(» a stay of it, didn't I ? And you and Spunk had lively times, I'll venture. Isn't that a good name for this troublesome fellow ? Here's a quarter, my boy. It'll pay you well for your trouble. Go ahead, Spunk." A quarter of a dollar for holding a horse a few minutes ! Reuben considered that good pay. In fact he believed himself to be rich. It certainly wasn't often that he earned twenty-five cents in five or ten minutes' time. His eyes sparkled, and he rubbed his blue hands together in gl 3, as he slipped the quarter into his deepest pocket. " If I were sure mother would like it," he said, talking to the kerb-stone, " I'd have a regular treat to-night. I'd get a quarter of a pound of tea, and some sugar, and maybe a bit of butter. That would make Beth open her eyes. But I don't know as I'd better, seeing we are most out of coal, and well, everything else, and that plaguy rent has got to be paid again so soon. When I'm a man there is one thing I won't do. I won't pay a cent of rent to anybody. People shall pay me rent, then. Won't that be jolly ? Well, come on, Trotties, you and I had better run home. We're rich, we are! we've done well, to-day, and needn't work any more." Whom do you suppose he was talking to, then ? Nothing of less importance than his two feet! I i! H THE MAN OF THE POUSR, don't know, but almost as soon as he was bom, cer- tainly as soon as he conld begin to talk, Renben had let people know that he wanted a pony. There was nothing in life that he so much longed for, to this day. When he was a little bit of a fellow, just run- ning alone, he played that his feet were a pair of ponies, that he was the owner and driver ; and that they trotted with him, wherever he ordered thera. This notion went with him all through his ten years of life ; he didn't talk much about the ponies before people, nowadays, unless occasionally to mother and Beth. But the fancy pleased him all the same, maiie him feel less lonely, and the distance he had to travel some way seem less long. So he was in the habit of talking to them a great deal, and ordering them in a very horseman-like manner. " Come, Trot- ties, we are half a mile from home, and behind time ; you mast step up briskly. Let's take another look at the quarter, to be sure it is safe, and then we'll be off. If there should be a hole in that pocket ! " He dived his hand down, felt carefully among the strings ard bits of treasures, brouglit up the piece of money, and stepped under the glare of a street lamp that had just been lighted, stared hard at the money, rubbed his eyes, said, " What under the sun, moon, and stars does this mean ! " looked again, turning it round and round, and over and over ; then he said slowly, drawing a long breath before he 8|)oke, " As sure as my name is Reuben Watson Stone, that fellow made a mistake, and this is a ten-dollar gold piece t " CHAPTER in. A RACE WITH *' SPUNJC»» For aa much as two minutea Reuben stood staring at that ten-dollar gold piece, uncertain what to do. Not that he had the slightest temptation to keep the gold piece, provided he could find the owner. It is true he thought, " How jolly this would be to spend all for ourselves ! " but then he had no more idea of spending it than he had of trying to fiy. Reuben wasn't one of those boys who are honest simply be- cause they have no temptation to eteal. He would as soon have thought of going into the grocery and taking money from the drawer as he would have thought of putting that gold piece in his pocket without trying to find the owner. " We are honest, if we are poor," he had heard his mother say many a time, and he knew that he was honest. So, thoupfb he stood in doubt, it was all about how to find the owner of the gold piece. "I might as well try to find a needle in a haystack ! " he muttered, as he turned the shining thing over. He knew almost nothing about haystacks, and I don't know that he ever hunted for a needle in his life, but he had oftt cold while we were waiting." And at this, mother and Reuben had to laugh, so little by little they grew moio cheerful. " Well, Trotties," said Reubtm, as soon as his bread and milk were gone, ^' you aiid 1 must trot out and tend to Dorcas ; we aren't often so late. I don't know what she'll say to us." *' Dorcas "' was the cow that furnished them with a quart of milk a day, and she lived in the stable that backed up against their one window. Reuben was very faithful to her, and was usually on hand to milk and take care of her, almost an hour earlier than it was to-nisfht. So he hurried away ; but much sooner than a cow can be milked, he came hurrying back. " Mother, they've sold Dorcas ! " he exclaimed, as soon as the door opened. " Oh, dear ! " said Mrs. Stone ; and she set down the big pan of water she was carrying, on a cliair, and stood and looked at him. " When did they do that?** " Just now : a man took her away less than an hour ago. Mr. Baker said it was a kind of a nuisance to keep a cow in the city anyhow, and she didn't give as much milk as she ought to, and boys were always bothering him about being late : wasn't that mean, mother ? I haven't been late but twice since I took care of her ; and the long and short of it is, she's gone ! ** ANOTHER DlHAPPOrm WfENT. »i " Oh, dear ! " said Mrs. Stone again. And the Icna of that quurt uf milk a day was a great deal to her ; she didu't H*»e hov> thi\v were going to get along with- out it. Ak for Hoth, she felt almost guilty ; hadn't she, tliat veiy afternoon, almost wished that they hadn't a quart of inilk a di^y? Well, she had her wish for once. Reuben presently camt^ over to where the pan of water sat. " What do you want to do with this, mother ? " he asked ; and ou being told, he went to the buck door, and pitched it out into the darkness. It was natural for him to save his mother's steps. I think he was more careful about that than Beth was. The work was all done now, and they got around the little stand — this little family — much graver than usual. Reuben brought his book and slate, and tried tr interest himself in an example in urithmetic. His mother encouraged him to try to keep on with his lessons, in the hope that some day he could go to school ; but the world looked very dark to him to- night. The old year was almost gone, and the coal was almost gone, and Dorcas was quite gone. " Come, children," Mrs. Stone said, after the cipher- ing and studying had gone on for some time in silence, " the fire is real low ; it is time we were in bed. Ill just step in and see if Mother Perkins is comfortable for the night, and then we'll go." " Mother Perkins " was an old and feeble woman, who lived all alone in one room of the house, and sometimes was unable to leave her bed for days to- gether, and had to wait for chance callers to give her THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. 1; * something to eai. Mrs. Stone had taken her aiider her special care for the last few days, and went every night to see that she was uiade as comfortable as the dreary room would admit. Reuben and Beth, thus left to themselves, stared at the dying coals in silence for f* few minutes, then Beth said : " What would yon have bought with that quarter, s'posing it had beon a quarter, and had belonged to you ? " " Well," said Reuben, meditatively, " I had more than two dozen plans. I guess if I'd done half with % that I thought about, it would have been just a wonderful q darter. You see, in the first place I wanted to get some coal, a whole bushel at once ; we are dreadfully low on coal, I don't know how 1 am going to rake and scrape enough together to do till Saturday ; then I wanted to get a quarter of a pound of real good tea for mother. It is regular hay stuff that she drinks now ; I know by the way the clerk sneers at it as he does it up, and it is cheaper by pretty near a dollar on the pound than the real tea. Joe Bradley bought a pound ol real tea for a Christ- m 18 present for his mother, and he paid ninety cents % pound ! What do you think of that ? " " My ! " said Beth, impressively. She knew how much a pound her mother's tea was. " Well, then there was two or three things 1 kind o' wanted to get for you ; 1 sha' n't tell you what they were, cause it's no ways likely 1 shall get around to them oow, till I'm of age." ANOTHER DISAPPOlfr/\fRffT i| Reuben had always believed that when he was of age something wonderful would happen by which he could do for Both some of the many things that he knew she would like. Just how he was going to get the money for all these things, he had not yet planned to his satisfaction ; but when a fellow was of age, he argued, of course he could get money. " Oh, 1 don't care," said Beth, quickly ; " not about myself, you know. I'm sorry about the coal, and I should like first rate to have had mother had some real tea. I know hers that she has once in a while is of no account by the way it smells; I smell the tea every once in a while when 1 go to liedwood to take the milk, you know. My ! how it Bmells." *' You won't smell it any more," said Reuben, shaking his head sorrowfully. "' How he could go and sell that cow is more than I can think." " The folks at Redwood will be sorry, too," said Beth ; " they liked that milk so much. The baby used to be out in the kitchen with his silver cup waiting for me to come, and he would just shout when he saw me." "It won't make very much difference to them," Reuben said, shaking his head ; " folks that have got as much money as they have, it don't matter when a man sells his cow ; they can just go to another man and tak-^ out their pocket-books and say, ' Here I want some milk of you every day ; how much is to pay ? ' Or, if it comes to that, they can up and buy a cow — two of them if they want to — just as easy a& THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. 'If they can tuni their hand over. I tell yon what it is, Beth, when I'm of age money is one of the things I'm going to have." " How are you going to get it ? " asked practical Beth. " Y«8, that's the question ; that part of it is^i-'t decided yet ; but then you know I've got a good while to think it over." And, with a gleam of fun in his bright dark eyes, Reuben arose, walked to the mantel, and proceeded to light the end of a candle which showed him the way to his " suite of rooms." This is what he always called them when be felt gay, in imitation of a lady for whom his mother sewed, and who was fond of describing to her sewing woman her grand house in the country. Reuben's " suite of rooms " had evi- dently been once a large old-fashioued pantry in two compai-tments, with a sliding door between. The house was an old-feshioned one, looking small enough now by the side of many larger ones that had sprung up around it ; still, it had once been thought of good BUBO, and several families lived in it now. But they were all families who could afford but one room apiece, or, at the very utmost, two. As Reuben lighted his candle, Beth, watching the process, was suddenly reminded of a bit of news that she had treasured up for Reuben. " The south room is rented, Reuben." " Is it ? " the boy asked, turning around with an interested face ; the pleasantest room in the house, ivith two large windows in it ; standing vacant novy ANO THKk niS.4 Pl'OlNTxM hNl. for several weeks, because no one came that way who could afford to pay for the suushine that streamed in at those two south windows. You would be sur- prised to know how mucli dil}*erence that made in Ww rent. Reuben and Beth did not believe that sun- shine was free ; they had good reasons for knowing the contrary. '' Who's taken it?" " A woman ; kind of old, and not so very old either. She's got grey hair, and slie is tall and straight, and her face looks sort of nice ; not pretty, and not exactly pleasant as I know of, but the kind of face one likes. Anyhow, I like her chair ; I just wish you could have seen it! The nicest chair, covered all over with bright queer-looking stuff; it couldn't have been calico ; I never saw any calico like that — and it was so pretty. Reuben, it would be so nice if we could get mother a chair Hire thab for a Christmas present." ''So it would be to get her a house, and a barn, and a cow," said Reuben, good-humouredly, " and about as easy, for all I see. Well, Beth, I must put the Trotties up for the night." And he took his bit of lighted candle, and went off to his ciothes-press. CHAPTRH V. , 1 1. MISS PHiSClLLA HUNTER. "Good-morning," said 5 very pl»^n^nnt voice. It seemed to be speaking to Reuben Stone, thouj/h whose it v^as, or where it came from, he couldn't decide. He stood with his hands in his pockets, to keep them from freezing, looking about him to settle what to do first. He looked up and down, and across, and at last discovered the owner of the voice — a trim, kindly-faced woman, with her head reached out from the upper window — looking down at him. " Did you think I was a snow-bird ? " she asked him. Then, without wwtmg for his answer, " I sus- pect you are a neighbour of mine, and I thought I would introduce myself. I've just moved in. Don't you live in this house ? " " Yes'm," said Be«ben, " I live in the north-comer room, second floor." '' Just so, and I live in the south-comer room, second floor ; we are very near neighbours, you see. I wish you a happy last day of the year," Reuben laughed, then looked grave. "I'm not Hkely to have a very happy one, as I can see," he ■aid, and sighed n little in spite of his determination not to. •^ MISS PRISCrLLA HUNTER. ** Is that 80? Now that's a pity. 1 always like to have a year end well, it makes such n good V)egin- ning for the new one. Suppose you waA;« it end nice, whether it wants to or not ? " This made Reuben laugh again ; her voice was «n cheery that he conld not help being rather cheered by it. The brisk voice went on again ; " Suppose you come up here, and show me how to uiii'asten the spring to my window, and tell me what is going to be the matter with your day ? " "I'll 'tend to the window," Reuben said, going briskly in, and mounting the stairs two at a time, "but as to what is going to be the matter with this day, I wish I knew." This last he said to him- self. The window fastening was turned without any trouble, and the window, when Reuben put his strong arms to it, went up as if by magic. " See what it is to know how ! " said his new friend, admiringly. "I suppose I fussed at that window for maybe ten mi'^utes before I made up my mind to apply for help. Well, now, what is your objection to this day ? " "Why, I haven't any objection to it," Reuben said, laughing ; " but it doesn't begin as though it liked me very well." " What do yon want of it ? " " I want it to give me some work to do." " Work to do ! Well, now, I never ! Why the world is just as full of work as it cac be. I I 1 I '■ I JB rifF AfAM OF THK hoUSB.. didn't know tlieie was auytliiiig bo easy to find as that." " It keeps itself snuj? away from me, then,'" ?niid Renl)eTi, growing grim ; " I've been looking for some these — well, ever so many days." " And you haven't found any ? * " No'm ; none to apeak of." "We^\ that's just astonishing! it must be yoii are particular. What kind of work do you want ? " " No'm, I'm not the least bit particular ; I'd take any kind of work that folks would pay for." "Oh, you want pay, do you? That's anothei thing ; though to be sure, I never knew anybody to work without pay, though they don't always think of the pay at the time." " I have to think of it," said Reuben, stoutly ; " I need it, you see ; it isn't as though I worked for fun, or to get some spending money for myself. I do it to support the family." " So you have a family on your hands, have you ? How many ? A father and mother, I suppose ; any brothers and sisters ? " Beuben looked out of the window and waited a minute before he steadied his voice to say : " There's no father, ma'am ; I'm the man of the houne, and I have a mother and one sister to support. At least I want to support them, and mean to some time; mother has to work hard now, and so does Beth, but I don't mean it to be always so." od for yon," naid his new acquaintance, looking approvingly. Meantime she had been at work {( M/SS PR ISC ILL A HUNTER, !■ getting a fire started in her briglit little cook-atove, and Reuben had lingered because it was uuch a bright pleasant room that he hated to go. How cheery it was to be sure. Not so very much largei than their own, but very different. In the first place, there was a carpet on the floor, only spread down, for the new-comer had moved in but the day before ; but it was a warm-looking carpet, and would cover the entire floor nicely. Then there were already cur- tains up to the windows, white ones too ; Reuben did not know that they were only the coarsest of maslin, costing but a few cents a yard, and would not have cared if he had. Also, there was a lounge, bright- covered, and a chair, which must have been the one that Beth had udniired so much. There was a plant or two already seated on the low window, and the morning sun was getting ready to shine on them. South windows in this room, two of them ; no wonder it was pleasant. But the pleasantest feature of the room was that trim figure, filling the small shining tea-kettle with water. Reuben watched her admiringly, and knew now that she was very pretty ; he had not discovered it at first ; he could not have told now what there was about her that he liked so much ; he only knew that he liked her. He sprang forward when the kettle was filled, and lifted it quickly and skilfully to its place on the little atove. " Thank you," said his hostess, watcliing him with a satisfied aii "So you mean to support your mother and Beth ? I shouldn't wonder if you would do it. i» THE MAN OF THE HOUSE, l\ 1)1 1 i \ I I kinfl of feel it in ray bones that you will. I ha<1 ■ glimpse of Beth, I guess, yesterday. She is a nice, pleasant-looking b.ttle sister; looks as though she ought to be supported. How are you going to do it?" " That's the rub," said Reuben, his face growing grave ; " there seems to be nothing that a boy can find to do. Odd jobs, you see, don't pay. You take half your time standing around looking for them, and maybe half the time you don't find them." ■' Just so ; and then, according tc that calculation, the whole of the time is gone. There's one thing though that is more important than to discover what you are going to do ; that is, to decide what you hxt rwt going to do." " I'm going to do anything" said Reuben, stoutly • " I don't care what it is ; anything under the sun that folks will pay for, and I can do, I'm ready for, I picked out the kinds of work that I would like, for a good while, and hunted for them, but I gave that all up long ago. Now it is anything." " I'm sorry to hear it," she said, gravely shaking her grey head, as she drew out a cunning little round t able, and spread a w hite cloth on it. " I'm very soiTy indeed to hear it ; because I know of work that folks will pay for that if you were my boy I'd rather not be supported than to have you do." " What, for instance ? " '* Stealing, and lying, and killing folks, and all that sort of thing." "Oh! Well of course I didn't mean that; folks don't get paid for doing those things,** %i/SS PRtSCILLA HUNTER. \S had a \ nice, h she io it?" •owing )y can )u take m, and ilation, » thing 3r what you are stoutly ; :he Bun dy for, ike, for ve that jihaking round very Irk that rather md all ; folki ** Don't tbey ! There's whero you're mistaken ; they get paid in more ways than one. If you're talking alwut money pay, they get lota of that ; I'm not sure but it appt'tars to pay aliuost better in that way than any othef btisinesa." "But it's against the laws to do auch things." " Well, anybody with common sense would sup- pose so of coarse ; but this is a queer wr jd you know, and has queer laws; and I'm ashank-;"'! to have to own that you are mistaken : the lau mnks at the whole thing." " Winks at stealing and murder ! " exclaimed Reuben, beginning to feel that he had made the ac- quaintance of a lunatic. " I don't know what the laws are where you came from; but in New York State such things can't be done without folks solfering for them, if they are caught at it." " Bless your heart, my boy, I wish that «ere true I've lived in New York State for seventeen yeart- and seen the business going on all the time. I know men who have stolen houses, and horses, and cows and furniture, and books, and I don't know what Qot, and murdered more wives and children than I can count, and the law hasn't peeped. Oh, yes it has, too ; it has given every one of the creatures permission to keep on doing it, year after year." ''Oh," said Reuben, the look of astonishment passing from his face, " I know what you mean now Yes, liquor-selling is mean enough business, I sup- pose ; in fact I know it is. I should never dr it for myself." I S4 THE MAN OF THE /fOUSE. '* For yourself ? Oh no, of course not ; but how would it be if you had a chance to do errandn for a man who sold it? Carry home beer, or wine, or even stand behind the counter and sell tlie vile stuff by the glass ? " "Well," said Reuben, thouj^htfully, "I've never looked for work in any of those places ; but I sup- pose I'd take work if it were oflfered me. Might as well, you know ; lots of boys stand ready to do it, and if I didn't take the place somebody else would. Yes, I'm in for work ; I've got to work. You don't catch me refusing it ; though I will risk my having such good luck as to have it offered me." " I hope not," said his new friend in great gravity. " If those are your principles, I sincerely hope no one will lead you into temptation. You use just exactly the argument that might be used about stealing. Lots of folks stand all ready to steal, and I dare say a good deal of stealing will be done, whether you do it or not. Why shouldn't you have your share ? " " Oh, well, now," said Reuben, staring at her in great astonishment, "that's entirely different, you know. Maybe the very thing that Fd steal won't get stolen ; but I know that every man who wants a olerk to sell his brandy and things can get one ; so what difference does it make, whether it's me, or somebody else ? " " Look here," said the grey-eyed woman, laying down her knife and the loaf from wliioh she waa i M/SS PR1SC111.A HrS'l hR. ve never entling l)eautiful slices of bread, and facinjy amand to Reuben, her eyes looking larger and greyer than they had before : " suppose that aister of yours — you love her, don't you ? " " I should rather think I did ! " was Reuben'i prompt answer. " Well, now, suppose she had made up her mind to poison herself to-day, and was sure to do it, whether you helped her or whether you didn't, wouldn't it make a speck of difference to you, when you thought about it afterwards, whether it was you who mixed the poison for her and held it out to her, or whether it was somebody else ? " Over this question Reuben paused thoughtfully for a few seconds, then said, the colour rising slowly on his brown cheeks : '' Yes, ma'am, it would. I'd rather it would have been anybody else on this earth than me." " Just so," said the grey-eyed woman, with an emphatic nod of lier grey head. "Now, 111 tell you something ; it's a thing that I don't like to tell very often, nor to think about. I had a father, and a brother, and a friend, who, every one, were poisoned to death with rum. Murder^ I call it, though a good many people helped in it, and nobody was hung for it ; but I'm glad that you wasn't one of the helpers ; and I hope, with all my soul, that you will never lift your linger to help any other body's father or brother or friend to take poison." To this appeal Reuben seemed to have no anBw<>tr to make. The bread-cutting went on in ailenoe for THP MAN OF THE HOUSE, ] ^ ■ i A few H(M;oiidH ; tht^u Uih new frieud Maid, in a chivnged and clieHry tone : '* Well, sir, I think it is time you Hnd 1 introduced oupHHilveH if we are to be neigh boars and friends. I'm Miss Priacilla Hunter, a tailoress by trade, and I expect to make a great many vests and coats and pants for folks of about your size, or a trifla younger. Now, if you are the head of the family, what is your name and businesH ? " " I'm Reuben Watson Stone, and tny business, you see, is to take care of my mother and sister, but I haven't found how to do it yet." " You'll do it," with an emphatic nod of her head. * I'll risk you. I shouldn't wonder if you should have a pretty good run of business this very day. Had your breakfast ? " " No'm," said Reuben, his cheeks growing hotter. Did she suppose he was going to tell her that thoy had but half a loaf of bread left, and he had saved it for mother and Beth, and started out intending to earn his own before he ate it ? They were in closer quarters than usual just now, but he did not mean to tell anybody if he could help it. So he said, " No'm, I haven't eaten it yet." " Pretty early, that's a fact," said Miss Hunter; " but seeing I was moving, I thought I'd be on hand early. If you are not in t great a hurry I wonder if you wouldn't buy some tacks for me, and a few ■hingle nails, and a tack-hammer — ^I broke mine taking the tacks out with the claw -end — and a spool of black liD«n thread while yon are about it, and let V/5.9 FlttSniLA rtlfNTF.R. ly broduced friuuds. ado, and )ats and younixer. •> is your less, you )r, but I ler head. 1 should rery day. hotter, lat thoy saved it tiding to n closer mean to " No'm, lunter ; )D hand wonder a few te mine a spool id let me pay you with a cup of coffee and a slice or two ol my b^at hmat?" '' I'll buy the thmj^s in a jiffy," said Reuben, hit mouth watering at the thought of the hot coffee und tojist. " But you needn't pay ine ; I'll do it to be neighbourly." " Business is business." said Miss Huntor, briskly. " But never mind, we 11 begii b / being nei»rhbourly ; you sit down and have some breaUfast with me, for my part, and thtm go do my errands for your part, and then we'll both be neighbourly and even. Don't you see ? " " No, ma'am," said Reuben, laughing. " I have to go right by the stores and can do your errands as well as not ; and it isn't worth a cup of coffee and a piece of toast to do them." " Not ? Well, then, I'll have you get some bat- tons, and match a piece of cloth-lining for me at the trimming store on Broadway. Know where that is ? All right ; I'll be even with you. you seo, somehow.** All this time she had been dashing around her neat kitchen, putting two plates on the nice round table, putting her coffee to bubble — for the pint of water in the small bright tea-kettle boiled with a swiftness that would have astonished Bi^th — toasting her beautiful slices of bread, and in a wonderfully short space of time Reuben Watson Stone found himself seated at the nice round table, with its white table- cloth, taking a lovely breakfast with Miss Priscilla Hunter. Ue laughed while he ate, tx> think how ail this would astonish Beth; and oonclnded that »» THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. I ■he oonldii't be more astonished about it than he was. During the breakfast the talk went on. Renben found himself telling Miss Hunter the most unex- pected and astonishing things — how the cow was sold, and he wanted to send Beth to school but couldn't ; had wanted to go himself, but had given that all up long ago. Wanted to buy his mother a house one of these days, wanted meantime to pay the next mcnth's rent, and get a whole bushel of coal ; but would fail even in these, if he got no work. " I'd like to buy my coal by the bushel, if I could," said this " head of the house," " because, you see, people who buy at wholesale get things cheaper, I have heard." " Just so," said Miss Hunter, taking grave bites of her toast, and uncovering suddenly » nysterious little tin dish that she had lifted from the stove. " Look here, what a present I had yesterday from one of my old neighbours who lives in the country. She keeps a hen who lays eggs on purpose for me, aiiu as soon as ..here are six of them, my neighbour brings them along" And she plumped a lovely white morsel just out of its creamy shell on Reuben's pi ate. " Oh ! " he said, breathless for a minute, then— " this is too much." "One egg isn't much," said Miss Hunter, com- posedly. ' 1 know a boy who used to eat two at every single breakfast. " Which fact so astonished Beuben tiiat he b&id not suaother word. Bat if thwe MISS PRISCILLA HUNTRR. ha down this street; now if I could find a boy or a girl who would like to tramp after it for me, and be paid in milk, a quart a day, don't you see I would be fixed ? " " We could do that," said Reuben, eagerly, " Beth and I. She likes to take walks, and mother likes to have her, only she hasn't any regular place to go, and mother doesn't like to have her wandering about; but whenever it was nice and pleasant, she could get the milk, and when it stormed, or was too cold for a girl, I could go." " Just so," said Miss Hunter, nodaiug her heaii " Then we have so much fixeU.* a 'll! CHAPTER VI. A iV/LD RIDE. ; . I From the milk question they jumped — Reuben, in faying to tell it afterwards, could not remember how --to the chair that Beth had liked so much. His mother and sister, when they heard of it afterwards, thought it the strangest thing that he should have talked il; i,o a stranger — and when Reuben came to think of it, he did not wonder; but at the time it g,eemed the most natural thing in the world for him to tell Miss Hunter how he had stood iii/hting Iiis candle only the night before, when Beth told him libout the south room being taken, and about tlie chair, and how she should like such a chair for mother. "That chair,"' said Miss Hunter, turning her head and looking at it sidewise, while she poured a second cup of weak coffee, very much milked, for Reuben, and kept on t'l '•; m^, so that he, being a polite boy, of course cor U ^ t; say a word — "that chair has a history. You co; ! tn't guess in a month where it *5ame from. What would you think if I should tell you I found it in a cellar?" "In a cellar !" repeated Hen hen astonished, yet laughing. ' Beth would say she would like to get into such a cellar as that." A WtlD KIDH. " Well, that isn't the strangest part of it ; what du you think of ita being full of potatoes once ? " Then was Reaben soberly amazed, and listened in wide-eyed wonder to the story of a barrel that, by the help of a saw and a few nails and tacks, and a partly worn-out dress of Miss Hunter's, was made into a beautiful chair I "You wouldn't believe what a comfoi table seat it ii," said Miss Hunter. " It wasn't such very hard work either. To be sure I had souie trouble in getting it sawed out just right, you see I wasn't broupfht up to make chairs ; but I got it after a while — folks can get most anything if they try hard enough. I shouldn't wonder if you and Beth would like to make your mother just such a obair some of those days ; I'd be very glad to shew you how." Altogether, Reuben Watson Stone went down town that morning feeling that he had found a friend ; the day looked brighter, his prospect for getting work aueiued better. How mucit the cup of colft^e, and nicely browned toast, and soft-boiled egg had to do with this feeling Reuben did not know, and I am not sure that I do. The next thing to be done was to lind work. He felt more eajrer for this than ever, for had he not just eaten a good breakfast, and had not his mother aned at the store to see if he coald get a chance to strip tobacco, but he was too late. *' Engaged a boy not ten minutes ago to fill the last vacancy." So the man behind the counter told him ; and Reuben went out with a grave tuce, wondering whether, if he had not stopped to eat that lovely breakfast with Miss Hunter, he might not have been in time. " But then, I was so hungry that like as not I would have disgraced myaelf by eating the strips of tobacco," he said, as he walked slowly awa/. It was not lack of industry that he found little or nothing to do that morning. He travelled miles, atopped a great many men who looked as though they might have some work for him, looked in at a great many places of business, and inquired carefully at the points where he had to do errands for Miss Hunter. All to no purpose. Five cents for taking a letter half a mile up town for a lady : the five cents were to pay his car fare, but he saved it and trudged there ; two cents for carrying a basket for another lady across the road to the street-car; one cent reward for picking up an old gentleman's handker- chief and rushing after him with it. This was the extent of Reuben's earnings when the short day was beginning to grow dusk. He had not been home to dinner ; having left word in the morning that, unless he had an unusual ran of luck, he should make a day i THF. MAN OF THE HOmS. i !: of it, and take dinner with his fric^nds at the comer of South Street. These friends of hia were an old woman and little girl, who sold penny buns, and molasses candy, and ginger snaps. Neither snaps nor candy did Reuben buy ; he contented himself with one bun, because he had had such a good breakfast. This left him seven (;enta : he took them out and looked at them gravely. " I'm afraid," he said, shaking his head reproachfully at the dingy coppers, " I'm afraid that you will make a sorry show at paying the rent for a month, and laying in c stock of coal for a week, and getting a New Year's dinner for mother and Beth, besides a present or two to remember the day by." Just then a card swinging from a window attracted his attention. '* Hands Wanted," said the card, in large, black letters. " How many, I wonder ? " said Reuben, taking his out of his pockets and looking at them carefully. " I've got two : to be sure I want them myself, but then I'd be willing to lend them for decent work and good pay. I mean to try." And he pushed boldly in. The grave-faced, middle-aged man who stood near the window, buttoning his coat ready to pass out, listened to Reuben's eager questions and shook his head. '' It is women and girl Liands that i am after," he said. " Women and girls ! " repeated Reuben, in dismay ; '* how old girls ? " thinking of Beth, not that he meant her to go out to earn her living — he hated the thought of thftt ; but then she was as eager to earn money ai A WILD RIDS. 4S aa he was himself, and it would be just as well for her to know she was too young, for of course she was. '* Oh, most any ape that know how to work : fifteen, and twelve, and somev/here about there. I have hired them as young as eight, but that is almost too young ; ten will do very well, if they are good, faithful girls, and want to work and earn money instead of play." " Is it in a factory ? ** questioned Beuben, in terror ; he did not know there was a place in that city where girls so young aa Beth were hired to work ; what if mother should think she ought to go ? "I hope they don't get but a cent a week," he muttered, under his breath. " Well, not exactly," the man answered. " There are factories, plenty of them, in town ; but T was rather looking for women and girls who would like to t^ke work home and do it ; still, I could find them places enough in the shops, if they liked that better." "It isn't in this city, then ? " said Reuben, with a little feeling of relief, in spite of himself. Of course Beth could not go out of the city to work ; still, to have work at home with mother was no more than she was doing now. " Oh, no," the man said, it was west of the city, forty miles or so; nice village, people not huddled together as they were in the city ; for his part he wouldn't live in the city if they would give him a house rent free. THB MAN OF THR HOUSE, •I ■; f " How much money could girls of ten earn in % day ? " questioned Reuben, strangely taseinated by the new idea, although he had no more notion of Beth's ever being one of those girls than he had that he would be the President. " Well, that depends on what kind of girls they are ; whether they are quick-witted and industrious, you know, and all that. I've had girls working for us no older than that, who earned their seventy-fiv* cents a day, day in and day out." Then the blood in Reuben's body all came tumbling up into his face — at least he thought so — he was so astonished. Seventy-five cents a day ! It seemed to him a fortune. " Doing what ? " he gasped. "Nice work; gloves, kid ones, soft and pretty; putting rows of silk on the back of them. We used to have no trouble in getting hands, but the girls have all got such a notion of running the big machines, nowadays, that we are plagued to death to get those we can rely on. What interests you 80 much? Have you got a sister who would lik. to go down there into the country and earn her living ? " " I've got a sister," said Reuben, drawing his breath in hard, " but I don't want her to earn her living ; I mean to earn it for her." " You do, eh ? Well, that's good talk ; 1 hope youll succeed. Do you live in the city ? " " Yes, sir." " What does your lather do for a living ?" I 4 WILD RIDE. 47 ,« •• \V<» haven't any father ; I'm the man of the house, and have been for three years. Isn't there anything in your town for boys to do ? " The man shook his head. " Boys are plenty," he said, gravely, " as plenty as grasshoppers in August. They all want work too, or pretend they do ; there's seven boys to every job in onr town. Girls now are different, they all want to dress np and be ladies." Keuben shook his head. " I'd like to earn seventy- five cents a day, first rate," he said, mournfully ; " but I don't know as I'd like to have Beth pinned down to it ; not if I can support them without it ; " and he opened the door, and walked away. " Nice appearing boy," said the man to himself, looking after Reuben ; " but I dare say he'll go to smoking and drinking before he is anything but a boy" And with this hopeful view of Reuben's future, lie turned j^way from the window and forgot all about him. Reuben wenc up North Street wondering how they were getting on at home, wondering whether he must give it up and go home with only seven cents, when a horse dashed by him at full speed, the driver lashing him at every bound, seeming determined to make him run away if possible. '' Ha ! " said a man, stopping and looking after him ; " Dick's drunk Again ! If he gets home alive, I'll wonder at it." At liHe same moment Renben recognised Spunk. Without having much idea why he did it, or in- deed what he was doing, Beabi»u turned and ran T i ! 4f THR MAN lih THB f/OUSB after the flying horse. T don't think he could have hoped tij oat/ch him, but he hud a great desire to see more of Spunk. Sure enouj«d m with some of his imrkot friends and managed theii horses while they exchaiAged their vegetables for grocoriea ; besides, he had often hopped on the omnibus that ran from the square to the Garden House, and the driver, who was a friend of his, would allow him to drive up to the hotel with a flourish. He would ride with this drunken man, who was in serious danger of breaking his neck ; he would coax him to give Spunk into his hunds, and by that means he would get the young man home in safety, and be paid well perhaps for his work. A wild way to earn money, certainly ; and if Reuben had stopped to think twice, he would have remembered that his mother would hardly approve. Especially as he wa« well warned. " Don't get in, youngster ! " " Don't go with him ! " shouted one and another of the men ; but it was all done in a minute, the shouting, and the jumping, and the laughing of the drunken nian» and then they were off like the wind. What a ride it was ! Reuben will not be likely ever to forget it. Away, away over the rough, frozen roads ; in some places the snow drifted badly, in some places the roads were almost bare. Where were they going ? That was the question which at last began to trouble Reuben very seriously. He had not hold of the reins after all ; his drunken companion hold fast to them, shouting wildly, urging the horse to faster speed every minute, and was no crazy with the liquor and the excitement, that hi <0 THh MAN OF THK HOUSh I ! had lonj^ ago comhcI to say any tiling tJiat Uoiiben could understand. Still tliey How along— the whip njiplied every minute to poor Spunk's fourning Rides, tiie shouting growing wilder. They were away out of the city now, puat all the fine houses, on a roud that was now to Ueuben, and was as lonely as it well could be. There was a railroad-crossing! They were coining to it with all speed. And llere! oh, horror! wa.« the shrill scream of the locomotive. Reuben seized, or tried to seize the reins, and shout in his com- panion's ear. to let him know of the awful danger they were in. He might, as well have shouted to the wind ! What does a madman caie about danger ? On they went, he holding to the reins with a tighter grip than before, close to the track ! The tlagman waved ' signal, and the madman laughed and tiew on ove ties, the sleigh groaning ol i-he ivons as they tlew ; and the hot breath of the engine was fairly in their mouths ; but they were across, and alive, and still Hying on ! This dreadful di^ath wrs spared them, at least, for a time ; but what was to come next? How many more railroad-crossings might they not reach before this awful ride was over ? Ueuben thought of his mother and of Beth waiting for him, watchiugin the gathering dpriness, growing every minute more fright^uied. He knew now that ho ought to have thought of mother before, and not have put liimsrlf in this peril. He fancied he could see the little table set for three; it was New Year's eve, iwid maybe mother had been paid, A tvrrn p/n.w. <« and hnd bouj^'ht ^oin»» little tifut for a oeltibrfttiou ; maybt» ovorytliiug vva^ ready and thoy were just, waiting for him to come home and tMijoy it; and muvbe ho would never couih ! Never sen mother and I^-th af^min. Ho 1 ;id boen oravo up to thus tnomont;, hut now he Htrnj^ghd with the tears. He thou^^'ht Hl)oiit trymf^ to jum]) out, hut the horse was (lying so fast, and the sleigh was by no ineanH an easy one to get out of, and his crazy companion had clutched him closely witli one hand, ever since he dropped his whip in the snow. There seemed nothirjj to do but sit still, and let those great tears, that froze hn fast as Ihey fell, drop oii his hands. If he had not been HO awfully frightened, he would have known that he was suffering with the cold, and that there was another danger thr/^atening hirn, that of freezing to death. But of this he did not even think, (>n thev went, Reuben so absorbed in his fright and grief, that he did not at first realize thnthis drunken companion was growing less noisy, and was leaning his weight more heavily on him. Suddenly, however, he dis- covered it in a dangerous way ; the reins dropped trom the driver's hands, he fell heavily forward in the bottom of the sleigh, and was in a drunken sleep. What would have given joy to Reuben's heart a little while before, now filled him with a new terror, ior Spunk, trembling with pain and fright, feeling the reins fall loo.icly, was seized with a horrible fear that he was left to hiiui^elf, and, with a fresh snort lKiandeit became plain to him that Spunk had given up SPUN/rs HOME the idea of getting entirely away from everyl)ocly, and was quieting into a steady, rapid gait. " I wonder if he would bear turning around ? " Reuben said to himself ; " this road is wide enough to turn comfortably, and it seems to me it is about time we were travelling towards home. Maybe, though, he would kick up his heels, and be off again like the wind, if I sliould attempt it. Well, what if he Hhonld ? Tlie faster he went, the quicker we would get back t() the city, and I su]^i)oiHe we've got to go back ther^-. I wonder where he lives, anyhow ? Spunk, what do you say ? Will you behave like a lunatic if I turn around ? " Nobody answered ; Ueubeu was in great doubt what to do. He thought of his prayers ; he was liot nejirly so frightened ; he believed in his heart that iiiiie of the terror died out just as he spoke those words to God. Alaybe God would tell him what to do? How did He tell people, Reuben wondered. It couldn't be that He spoke to them, so that they really heard words ! Reuben had been to church a good many times in his life, and to Sunday-school ; he had heard a good many prayers, but no answers. " Perhaps only tlit^ people who are praying in their hearts hear the answers," said iieul)en to himself ; and he at once had to own that he didn't believ h»- had ever prayed in his heart until a little while ftgO "I didn't hear any nit svver, though," he aai«l, aluud. " Hold on ! Yes 1 did, too ! ijdi an answer ; 1 guess that's jubt as good." 9« THE MAN OF THE HO USB. j \ ! I! fi |i i< So then, without letting go of the reins, he spoke the words out distinctly in the solemn night, feeling only too sure that none but God could hear him. " Oh, God ! tell me just what to do." Was he answered ? Did he fed an answer ? He asked himself that question, and bo interested and strangely solemnized was he with the thought that God and he were having a talk together, that every bit of fear went out of his heart. After a few moments more of steady progress. Spunk dropping into quieter ways with every step, Reuben, watching his road, suddenly drew skilfully off toward the right, and intimated plainly to Spunk that he wanted to go back over the same road he had come. Spunk made not the slightest objection ; on the contrary, he whisked the sleigh around with such suddenness as to almost take Reuben's breath away, and was off! Not in any wild fashion, though; just a steady, business-like trot. Now all this matter had taken a good deal of time, and Reuben knew perfectly well that a good maisy miles must have been gone over. " You went like the wind, old fellow, when you came this way," he told Spunk ; *' and you're not going back so fast by a good deal, I'm happy to say ; I*d rather go slower, and be sure of my bones. But it will take us a good while to get home, if we ever do, and I believe we will : at least / shall ; I wish yoa could tell me where your home is, Spunk." All the while he talked thus cheerily to the horse, his heart was full of a little gleeful song. He felt i SPUNFTS BOMS. %f perfectly certain that the great God Himself had actually bent His ear and heard his — Reuben Stone's — words, and directed his steps ! " What else could it be ? " said Keuben, talking aloud. " You see, one minute I didn't have the least kind of a notion what it was best to do : whether to go on, or try to turn around, or what ; my mind was all in a muddle, and there was nothing around here that a fellow could see to help me make up my mind ; then, all of a sudden, it seemed to me just as clear as day that the thing to do was to turn right around, and something seemed to say to me that Spunk would behave himself and trot back towards home ; and I did it, and he does. Yes, sir, I believe that I got some help from somewhere, and I should like to have Anybody tell me who oonld have helped me but the One I asked." Now, if Reuben had lived a little later in life, and became acquainted with a man named Robert Inger- aoll, and had asked him this question, oLere is no know- ing what nonsense he might have been told in answer. But having the good fortune to live a thousand miles away from that foolish man, among people who had common sense, he never thought of imagining that there could be an effect without a cause. In the course of time — and it seemed a long time to Reuben — ^the railroad track over which they had flown in such fury was reached ; at least its rails could be seen in the distance. And there, sure enough, was the snort of the engine, and the roar of the coming train ! The boy's heart beat fast now. What was 58 THE MAN OF THR HOrSB. he to do ? It was not possible to cross the track h^ fore the cars would be upon them, and what if Spunk insisted upon going on, fastt^r and faster ? It had all to be settled in a second. Of course the thing to do was to try to stop Spunk. Pie 'i eth to tln^ door. It was only a blundering errand-boy, who had mistaken hb number, and Beth felt as though hhe would have enjoyed shaking him, to pay him for giving her mother such a fright ASX IF TV, ft They set the little tnble out for three, as usual, aud the tea-kettle sang merrily, and l^eth prepared to toast the bread for a treat ; hm a rule, they did aol toast the bread, because they were so apt to eat a great deal more than they needed, and it took a ceitnin kind of tire that was not economical but for New Year's Eve Beth resolved to venture. On thii night the coals glowed beautifully, then dimmed^ then died out almost entirely, until Beth, discovering, built them up again with sticks from the moming'i stock of kiudlingb, and cried siloutiy while she won- 'iered what they should do if Reuben were not there to kindle the morning fire ; then, indeed, they wonld be sure that something awful bud happened. "Mother," she said, speaking faintly, "don't yon think you better eat your supper before the tea gets •polled?" " Not just yet, child ; eat your own supper, if you are hungry." " Hungry ! " Poor Beth swallowed and swallowed, to keep back the tears, and wondered if she would ever be hungry again. By-and-by, as it grew later, the mother took her tnm at advice. " Come, Beth, yon may as well eat your bread and milk ; Reuben must have had some supper by thi time. He has stayed late to help, somewhere, aud they have given him his supper." " I will eat if you will," Beth said, wistfully ; her mother looked so pale and heavy-eyed, that she felt able to push back her own anxiety, and try to com- fort her. #1 4 i 9$ THE MAN OF THE HOVSR. '•^ I am not hungry just now," Mrs. Stone said, and she dropped the corner of the curtain that she held up to peer out into the darkness, and went back to her sewing. After a little, Beth, of her own accord, set away the bread and the milk and the little bit of butter, untasted, and came and sat down neai her mother; but as her eyes rested on Reuben's slate and arithmetic, her brave little heart misgave her, and 6«he leaned her head on the book, and cried out- right. " I wouldn't be so foolish," said Mrs. Stone, re- provingly ; " crying won't do any good. Something keeps him, it's likely." Beth felt sure of that; but the awful question was : Wlmi tvas it f She had her head hidden in her apron, and did not see the tears that Ler mother brushed away as she spoke. Meantime, Miss Priscilla Hunter had been bust- ling about all day, doing no end of work in her new home ; by night her sweet-smelling south room was in complete order, and shone like a picture. Much beside work did Miss Priscilla do that day; or at least, much beside arranging her room and tacking dov^n her carpet, that was yet in a line with her regular work ; she studied her neighbours. Miss l*riscilla was not one who would live for three months next door to a family, and not know what their names were, and what they did for a living, and where they went to church, and whether they belonged to her Captain or not. She wm always ANXIETY, bust- new was iiuch or at king her Miss hree what ving, they ways n\ interested in hor n«»igh hours. Beth Stone interested her exceedingly ; she had peeps of her a number of times during the short busy day. " That must be Beth," she said to hbrself, with a uagacious nod of her grey head, as Beth tripped down the stairs, while she stood at the upper landing. " A spry little girl, and as bright as a cricket. I'll venture ; ought to be — to be the sister of such a brother. I wonder how the brave young man is getting on, and whether he sees his way clearer towards supporting his family. He'll support them yet ; I'll risk hitn.. He will have to see t^> it that that little sister wears thicker clothing though, this cold weather — calico, and rather thin at that : calico is cheap, I know ; but it is cold stuff, and always and for ever wanting to go into the wash-tub ; I like it in summer on that very account ; but there's my blue merino tucked away doing good to nobody ; it would be just the thing for a New Year's dress for the child, if the ' man of the house ' didn't object — but he would ; the child might earn it. I wonder what she can do — several things, 1*11 venture. I wonder what kind o£ H mother she has — a good mother, I think ; a boy and a girl with sucu fui^^is are apt to have good uKjthers — not always, but it is more than likely." So Miss Priscilla talked to he "solf, and planned, and watched, and 'waited, and by night it really seemed to her that she was pretty well acquainted with the Stones. By dark, she, too, began to be somewhat auxicas because the man of tlie house diJ uot appear. Q wmm^m 83 THE MAN OF THE HOUSE 1 i> % i 1 "Fm sorry he ifl out. .so lato," she saifl stopping lve([uently to peer out of the window ; " I hope it isn't his custom : it won't do for a man with heavy responsibilities like his." As it grew later, hor anxiety gave way to positive alarm, miii«^led with a great pity for the mother and sister across the hall. If he was what she thought bim, a trustworthy boy, this must be a new thing, and their anxiety must be great. She listened for sounds from the North room, and at last, when she heard an actual outburst of tears from poor Beth, she seized a cup from her little corner cupboard and started. It was just as Mrs. Stone was saying re- provingly, "I wouldn't be so foolish," that a tap came at the door. But it was the mother whose face paled suddenly again, and it was Beth who sprang to answer the knock. " It is only your neighbour, Prlseilla Hunter," said ft cheery voice, whose owner walked in without in- vitation. " I've come to prove that I am a neighbour, and one of the borrowing kind, too. Could you let me have a little speck of soda ? I've a bit of sour milk, and if I hadn't been so foolish as to forget to provide soda, I could have some griddle cakes for New Year's." Mrs. Stone arose civilly and took the cup, and got the soda and handed it back to her neighbour, and stood, as though she expected her to thank her and go. Such was not Miss Priscilla's intention. "Thank you," she aaid heartily, but she set the cup down on ANXIETV. 81 the sfan«1, find said, " Wliy, your room isn't f|nUf --.o large as mine, is it ? That is cosier for winter. 80 yoM are Beth ? I've wanted tx) see you all day. Reuben took breakfast with me this morning, you know, and he talked a great deal about you ; by the way, he is late to-uight, isn't ho ? " Whereupon Beth could stand it no longer, but at the mention of the dear name burst into tears again. " Elizabeth, 1 am ashamed of you," said hei mother, still reprovingly, but witii quivering lip; then she, iu few words, explained their narneleHS terror. *' He was never so late before," sfap Mitid. tremulously. " and T don't know what to think." '' I'm glad of it," said Miss Priscilla in the cheeriest of tones, helping herneir to a chair. "If he were in the habit of being so late, why then, Miss Beth, you might cry to some purpose ; for it would be pretty certain some awful habit had got hold of him ; but a boy who always comes home early isn't going to stay late without a good reason. He went off this morning as ambitious as the President, to support his family ; and I dare say, it being the last day of the year, business has been brisk, and he has found himself, late at night, so far from home that his good common aeLse has come in and told him to stay ali night ; for it is piercing cold, and he is a {)rudent boy as well as a brave ow*. I kuul of think you won't see him till moruiug. Beth wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at Qer mother. A dozen times over had i*hi» said to herself in the last hour, 'Oh, what if h» nhoNMn* r TIIL MAN OF THE HOUSE. I 1 I' I 'III come a!) nij^'bt? What slumld we do ! What shmlfl »m doV Hhe haa, that she seemed to put Reuben and every one else aside, and give herself entirely to fighting the pain. It was not until the faint grey dawn of a new day was glimmering in the East, that the three families settled into quiet. Miss Hunter had said : " Now, I declare, if I'm not afraid your * man of the house ' will come and find that his mother has been up all night, without a wink of sleep ; then I don't know what he would do. You just go and lie down for a bit, ^ou a id Beth : poor child, how she has trotted back and forth and up and down. I'll shade the light, and sit here by mother Perkins ; she is so quiet now, I think she can sleep a little, too ; then we will all be chirk for New Year's morning." *'0h dear," said Mrs. btouo, and she could nut I I ' i 90 THE MAN OF THH HOUSB help wondering what New Year's inoniing won»«\ bring to her ; she had not felt the presence of the messenger, with the answer to Mieis Hunter'e praver, as plainly as Beth had ; but she was bo tired oat, that it was not hard to persuade her to lie down on the bed. She only waited to say, '"'' As soon an it is li^lit enough to pick my way out, I'm going to the comer police, to notify him about Reuben ; " then Hhe fell into a heavy sleep. But Heth h^ld her eyes open k)ng enough to say to herself, " I don't believe he will need the police ; 1 believe he will come in the morning ; I'm sure she wjw answered." Th(in Rh«!i too, sltiptu ill OfTAPTER X. THE RETURN, *MIafpy New Year! "said a voice cloae to Beth's ear. She dreamed it wa» Reuben, and that he came to her with his hands full of gold pieces, with which he mebnt to buy a cow, and a chair, and a farm in the country. She wakened with a start, to find tlie sun of New Year-s morning flooding the world, aud Reuben in very truth standing beside her. " Is it really and truly you ? " she said, sitting up straight and rubbing her bewildei-ed eyes. " Oh, mother, mother ! here he is, aud he is alive, and nothing is the matter." And MrH. Stone opened her own heavy eyes, and New Year's morning began. " My sakes ! " said Miss Hunter, opening the door softly, so as not to disturb the sleepers, and shutting it suddenly and softly, so as not to disturb the people who were wide awake and holding a family council. Then she rushed away to her griddle- cakes. Miss Hunter must have been very hungry ; she whisked the cover from her little stone jar, and poured out a full bowl of nice, creamy-looking, sour milk. '' Miss Hunter ! Miss Hunter ! Don't you IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) L /. ^ 1.0 I.I 11.25 Li U 116 % 'A 7 >> V /^ 8^ f o 7 Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. U5S0 (716) S73-4S03 ' ^^ °V^k ^^ 9J^ ^ rr 9a THR hfAN OF TUn HOUSE. know that a bowl full of sour milk will make cake* enough for five or six people, and there is only one of yon ? " But Miss Hunter gave no heed, if any voice whispered that to her, but measured her soil a with care, and dashed it into the milk, where it pre- sently began to make such a sissing noise, that one who didn't understand the work that soda has to perform when it gets with anything sour, might have thought a bit of a steam engine had set up business in the bowl. " Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle," said the milk at last, changing its tone entirely; and Miss Hunter, who had been briskly stirring it all the while, said, with a satisfied air, " Oh, you're sweet, are you ? All right ; pity folks couldn't be made sweet-tempered as easy as taat." Then she broke an Q^'g into another bowl, whisking it around franti- cally with a fork until it was a bubbling suds, then she put the yellow foam and the white foam to- gether, and stirred little tin shovels of flour into it, and salted it, and by-and-by. mercilessly dipped a spoonful of the mass on to a hot griddle, and lo ! a lovely, round, brown cake, puvfy and flaky. " As nice as the nicest," said Miss Hunter, nodding her head in a satisfied way ; then she drew out her table and spread it with a clean cloth, and dashed at her bit of a cupboard, and brought out four plates. Had she forgotten that she was a lone woman ? If she had, she made herself happy over the mistake, and added spoons, and forks, and knives, and cups, four of each, and made a ridiculous quantity of coffee for ii irHh RETVRN. 93 one woman. When all was ready, even to the baking of a very great many of the pufiy cakes, some of which she buttered and sugared, and some of which she only buttered, she set four chairs around her table, then slipped across the hall once more and knocked boldly at the north door. It was Reuben who answered the knock. He laughed when he saw Miss Hunter. " Good-morning," he said ; " I've got 'em ; they are here in my pocket, safe and sound " — diving down for the things she had ordered. " I didn't know but you'd think I went to the North Pole for them ; and I started, I guess." " Dear me," said Miss Hunter, " I'd forgotten about the things, it was so long ago, you see ; last year sometime, wasn't it ? Happy New Year to yon ; we begun ours early in this house. Now, have they told you that you were going out to breakfast for New Year's morning ? " " Why, no'm," said Reuben, astonished ; he was just making ready to introduce his mother to Miss Hunter. Then he laughed. " Not but that I'm getting used to going ont to breakfast ; IVc been doing it lately." " Well," said Miss Hunter, joining in his langh, and turning to his mother ; ^' it's the queerest thing ; you know I was up some last night, and being kind of sleepy this morning, what did I do but go and mix up the whole of my sour milk, and the conse- quence is, I've cakes enough for half a dozen fami* 1 \ %■ I H (i ^ 94 THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. 1 t lieB the sizo of mine, so of cours© you'll have to come ami helj) me eut 'em; for New Year's, you know." Of course tliey understood her pretty little mako- believe of being absent-minded, and of course they were all polite enough to go to her pleasant room to breakfast, and grateful enough for all her kindness, to be happy, and enjoy those cakes, and those cups of coffee, as M cs. Stone, at least, had not enjoyed a meal in many \\ day. " What did I do with my basket ? " said Reuben suddenly, as M iss Hunter helped him to the seventh cake ; for, strjinge to say, in spite of his elegant breakfast, eaten from real chin a dishes, and with a solid silver foik and a^joon, I?euben was hungry. ^' [ had a basket when I came in; where did I put It i " " You set it behind the stove in our room," saic Beth. " 1 saw it, and wondered what was in it." " I don't know myself," declared Reuben ; " only it's something that is most awful heavy; I didn't know but it would break my arm, after I left the car^ 1 guess I better bring it in and see what it is." A wonderful basket was that ! Yoa should have heard the exclamations, as Reuben drew out tlie parcels one by one. A mince-pie, cuddled nicely among rows of doughnuts, for thd top layer ; then came a turkey, dressed and even stuffed, ready for the oven ; then a dish of cooked cranberries, looking like !i great mound of trembling jelly, as Reuben TUB RETURN. 9§ DTJcovered tbe dish ; then a large, rouud, frosted cake, then a chicken-pie, and each little niche in tho basket was filled in with nuts and candies. On the bottom was spread a smooth, thick package, that Reuben said was the quilt for the turkey to sleep on, but ft paper was pinned to the string, and on the paper, in delicate writing, were the words — " For Beth." So Beth's trembling fingers picked at the knot, until Reuben bad pity on her impatience and his own, and cui the string ; then was brought to view a lovely little fur hood and cape ; not so very little, either, was the cape, for it reached below Beth's waist. It was curious to see how the different members of this family took the surprise. " Oh ! oh ! oh ! " squealed Beth, and she jumped up and down and clapped her hands. A.8 a rule, she was a quiet little thing, but she had never in her life before had any soft, furry garment to wear, and she thought they were «o lovely. Mrs. Stone wiped her eyes, and said not a single word. She was very much surprised, and she was very glad, and she wondered if it could be possible that Miss Huntei's prayer of the night before had anything to do with all this. " My sakes ! " said Miss Hunter, *' isn't that just splendid ! " and she thought, but did not say, how well the merino in th») trunk, when it was made to fit Beth, would look beside the fur hood and cape. As for Reuben, there was a sparkle in his eyes that was pleasant to see, when one remembered they were shining about his sister's gift. " She must have been expecting me for at least a THE MAN OF THE HOViiE. i»; ii week, and been getting ready," he said, soberly ; aiui this made them all laugh. " We must have a New Year's dinner," said Mrs. Stone, rousing to the heights of the occasion. Then they began to plan, and as soon as Miss Hunter found herself fully counted in, as if she were of course one of '^he family, she had her plan ready. " Now, I'll tell you what it is ; your mother was foolish enough to sit up for you last night, and you know you did not get in very early (calling it night), and it stands to reason that she don't feel quite chirk this morning ; what she needs is a good long nap, and she can have it as well as not, while I am cooking the dinner. Here's Beth to help me, and you, and t; e'U get up a dinner fit for the President — if he needs any better one than we do. What d« ?n But here l^Irs. Stone shook her head, and reminded Miss Hunter that she, too, was ud all night, taking care of mother Perkins, and that she must be quite AS tired as any of them. This, Miss Hunter assured her, was not the case ; she was used to it : there was nothing like getting used to things. Her poor father was sick for years, couldn't sleep nights, and she used to be up with him part of eveiy night, Bome(;imes all night; she grew so used to being broken of her rest, that it really seemed almost foolish to lie in bed all night, and ske often got up, and sat in a chair a while, just because she could not sleep. She had her own way — the truth is, she was THE RETURN 97 d very apt tc have — and in another hour or two, the liorth room was darkened, and poor, tired Mrs. Stone was lying in a sound sleep on the bed ; she could hardly remember any other week-day when she had actually gone to bed in the middle of the day. lo the south room there was a delicious smell already from the oven, where the great turkey began to make little sputtery remarks, and Beth and Miss Hunter were washing the cooking-dishes, and chatting to- gether as though they had always known and liked each other. A royal dinner it was that was served in that south room about two o'clock of the same day. Miss Hunter did not tell them, as she might, of the great dinners that she had been in the habit of managing on New Year's days, but her cooking told the story to Mrs. Stone just as well as though she had spoken. It was not until late in the afternoon, when the dishes were washed and the party over, and the guests had gone home, that Reuben unfolded the piece of paper and showed his mother what was hidden away in it. He had looked before, and been so astonished that he shut it up quickly and dived it down to the very bottom of his pocket. Now, after having gone over every inch of the night, up to the time when he stepped into that bed made of down and poppies, to rest a minute, and answered a hundred questions from the curious Beth, about the rooms, and the table, and the pictures, and the piano, he said, " And see here, mother, there's something else I got." Then he laid the paper in her lap, and f! ,''1 [?*• A 98 THR MAN OF TffF. HOUSE. she slowly unfolded it, and behold ! there shone a ten-dollar gold piece. On the inside of the paper was written, in the same pretty hand that had written Beth's name : " For the brave ' man of the house/ to help him in the support of his family." "I told her, you know," exclaimed Reuben, "that 1 bad a family to support ; I said you had to work hard now, but one of these days I meant to have you sit in a silk dress, in a big armchair, and not do a single thing. Well, of course I didn't tell her exactly that, but she asked me questions, and I told her what I wanted to do." There was more planning for the Stone family ; it actually took hours to decide about thai, wonderful shining bil; of gold. Reuben was for paying a great deal of rent in advance, and so having that off their minds for a while. "I hate rents," he said with energy ; " catch me ever paying any when I'm a man." Then he was for buying a whole ton of coal, and a barrel of flour. But his mother reminded him that it was growing late in the season, and if the rest of the winter should be mild, they might not need a whole ton to carry them through to the days when chips and blocks of wood from new buildings would boil their potato^, and there was certainly no place for a barrel of flour to stand. So, finally, with R little bit of a sigh, which he covrered up as soon as possible, he laid the ten dollars in her hands, with a " Well, mother, there it is ; I suppose the best way i ( THE RETURN. f9 it ^gs ^ is to kppp it, and use it when yon need it, just at* Vou have always done ; only 1 would like to get the mean old rent paid off for a few weeks ahead. IV] just like the fun of going to Mr. Grimsby, and hand- ing it out, and getting a receipt ; he always acts as though he was most sure we were going to cheat him out of it this time." There was one other thing which made Reuben sigh, even on that happy New Year's Day. Of course he told his mother all about the saloon, and the oiler of business. When he had finished his story, she looked sober. Something in her face disappointed him. " Didn't I do right, mother ? " he asked her eagerly " You wcnldn't have me go into such a business- would you ? " " Oh, I don't know," she said, in a troubled tone. '*We are very poor, you know, and you and Beth both need clothes, and we need almost everything in the line of provisions. It is the first chance you have had. Poor folks mustn't be too particular, 1 suppose ; it will do for the rich to have principles, but it costs too much for us." '' Yes ; but, mother," said Reuben, with a distressed face, " I should have had to wait on men to brandy and wine, and all those vile things ; yon surely wouldn't have had me do that ? " " Why, you needn't have drank any yourself ; »d'^ as for waiting on other people, somebody will do that, if you don't ; there will be just as much of it n lOU THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. drank. I don't see but you might as well get the pay as any one." Poor, troubled Reuben ! His mother's words did not shake his resolution in the least, for Miss Hunter had burst that bubble by what she said about selling poison ; but it was liard not to have her approve of his actions, as she had almost always done before this. " I thought you would be glad," he said, in a low tone ; " but 1 couldn't have done it anyhow, because 1 made a promise about it." " A promise ! " said his mother, curio asiy ; " who did you promise ? " " I promised myself, last night, when I was riding along by that drunken man, you know, just before we crossed the track ; " and in spite of it being broad daylight and he safe at home beside his mother, Reuben gave a little shiver. " Besides," he said, after a moment of hesitation, speaking more gravely still, " I guess I promised God. I asked Him to take care of me, and He did, I think ; and I said, down in my heart, that T -vould never taste a drop of rum, and never do a single thing to help anybody else to take any. He heard it of course, and I guess maybe it is the s&me thing as a promise." Here Beth, who had been a silent ard attentive listener, suddenly burst forth : " I wouldn't wear any clothes that were bought with their mean old money, nor eat anything that was got by selling rum, not if I starved." ** Dear me," said the mother, '' wl^at a couple of THE RRTURR. lOI r fe It It temperance fanutica \ live with ; " but hIio naid it very plea^i utly, and there was a smile on her face " T suppose you are right, Reuben," she said, after a uiiuute. "I was a little troubled about your haviu'' lost a chance to earn some money, •u your and Reth'M account, not on my own ; but I suppose it is best to keep clear of the business altogether. You are a good boy, anyway, and I shall never have to worry about you as some mothers do. I don't suppose we shall starve ; we never have yet, and to-day we have been a long way from starving." And she leaned over and kissed him in very motherly fashion ; but Reuben could not forget that troubled look. He went in to see that Miss Hunter was comfortable for the night, before going to bed, and it looked so cosy here, that he couldn't help sitting down a minute to tell her some more about this strange clay ; it felt to him as though he had known her all his life. " What do you think ? " he said, leaning over her little table; and looking up into her kind grey eyes ; " I had that chance we were talking about yesterday offered to me this very morning." " What chance ? " asked Miss Hunter, all atten- tion. " Why, to * hold out the poison ' for other folks to drink, you know, and get good pay for it, too." " You don't say so ! and you refused it ? " " Yes'm," said Reuben, gravely. " But then I had a great long temperance lecture last night from a drunken man,* and I couldn'O go into any such bupi- nesB, you know, after that." i \ v\ THE MAfJ OF THE fTOUSR. I suppose Miss Hunter saw a oonnecbioa botvveori what he had told her and the verse she quoted, though Reuben couldn't quite understand what it was ; but this was what she said : •* He shall give His angels charge conceminflf thee to keep thee in all thy wayi.'^ CHAPTER XL LOOKING FOR WORK. Despite his wonderful laat day of the year, and the rather remarkable opening of the New Year, I don't think our young man of the house felt much richer than usual, as he trudged down Second kStreet the next morning, wrapped in the old plaid shawl. He realized that it was very cold ; that ten dollars to pay house rent, and provide coal and provisions, would not last long ; that his mother had, that very morning, been refused work at the tailor's because the New Year's hurry was over ; and the last half of a hard winter was still before them. If he could only find some regular work! There was St. Mark's? *' No, there isn't," he said to himself, stoutly. " So far as I am concerned, it is just exactly as though there wasrCt any such place. I'm not going there, that's sure ! Even if I starve, I don't believe I could do it. Yon see mother didn't take that ride with me the other night ; if she had, she would feel different." Still he could not help feeling dreary. If tailoring was slack, it was quite likely that other work would be the same, and he had failed in finding any all winter, thus far. CJould he hope to be more success- ful now ? Ii III in s^ ^ •04 THE MAN OF HIE HOUSE. " Never you mind," had Miss Hunter said to him in a cheery way, as he went out that morning. " It will all come out right ; you'll see. If you ought to have some work to do to-day, don't you suppose the Father up there will see to it that you find it ? " This was new doctrine to Keube but he thought about it as he trudged along, aiid felt somewhat com- forted. God had taken sf^ much pains to save his life during that dangerous night.- " He must uhink a little about me," thought the boy, " and it would be just as easy for Him to find me some work as it was to take care of me." " That is a manly-looking chap," said a gentleman, who stood leaning against the glass door of a down- town grocery, nodding his head towards Reliben ats he passed. " Yes," said the young gentleman who stood near. " He is a queer sort of a genius ; I became quite in- terested in him, and tried to help him a little, when I found he was looking for work ; but I guess there is more talk than actual desire about it. I found him hard to suit." ^ " Is that BO ? I talked with him a few minutes the other day, and I thought him a particularly wide- awake boy. He said he had a family to support." " Yee^ that's a favourite remark of his. I offered him work only yesterday, and he refused it." "What sort of work?" " Steady, and good pay. Mother ran across him accidentally, and took a fancy to him, and for her ««^ke I tribd to help him. I oouid have got him is } * LOOKING FOR WORK. 105 at St. Mark's as waiter, but he declined the place because they sell liquor there." And Spunk's master laughed as though that were a good joke. " Good for him ! I like his pluck," exclaimed the gentleman leaning against the door, and he opened it and looked out after Rouben. '* I'm almost tempted to take him home with me if that is the sort of chap he is," the man said, as he peered down the street. " I wonder what became of him ? Do you know where to find him ? " " Not I ; mother does, I presume. She took a fancy to him, and sent a basket of things home to his family, I believe; but, Mr. Barrows, I think you would be disappointed in him. He strikes me as having impudence rather than goodness." " I didn't think so," said Mr. Barrows. " I ran across him day before yesterday, and I thought him a remarfsably bright, civil fellow ; and an out-and-out temperance boy is hard to find in these days. It isn't the busy season with us, especially for boys, but if T could get hold of one of the right sort it would be a curiosity, and I would take him along." Meantime, Beuben, all unconscious that Spunk's master was at work getting him a situation, came forlornly out of the store, where he had gone in to warm his fingers and see if he could find an errand to do, and stood looking up and down the street, uncertain which way to turn. " I just wonder which way I (mght to go ? " he said to himself ; " I suppose it makes a diiference. If I am to find any work to- day, of cmir&t it make» a difference : the question is. '« 1! I i fo6 THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. % whicl. end of the city is it to be found ? Queer now that God knows all about it ; I wonder if He won't tell me which way to travel ? I s'pose if I belonged to Him He would find some way of showing me just what to do, and how to do it ; Miss Hunter talks just as though He did that for her." There he stood, this wondering boy, irresolute. Which way should he turn ? Was there work for him somewhere ? Did God mean he should have it. Would He show him how to find it ? Reuben had never had what he called such queer fancies before. His late experience, as well as his new friend Miss Hunter, had made an impression on him, from which he could not get away. At last he turned, and went back up Second Street ; he could not have told you why. He had certainly looked carefully on either side as he came down, and saw no sign of " Boys Wanted " for any- thing ; still, something made him feel that he was to go back, and back he went. It was well he did ; Mr. Barrows was keeping a sort of look out, and saw him as soon as he appeared in sight. He opened the door and motioned him in. " How do you do, sir ? " said Reuben to Spunk's master ; and his respectful bow was not lost sight of by Mr. Barrows. Whatever the boy had done to annoy that young gentleman it was clear that he was not ashamed of it. " Well, sir," said Spunk's owner, " found any work yet ? •' ^' No, sir ; but I guess I will ; I begin to feel like it.' * 1 LOOKING FOR WORK. »o7 " 1 doubt it ; you are too particular. Do you really wwnJt work, now, 'pon honour ? " " Try me and see," said Reuben, with quiet good- nature, ignoring the sneer that was hiding in the question. " Is Spunk well this morning, sir ? " There was nothing to be made by sneering at him^ and the young man, with a careless answer to his earnest question, left the store. Now it was Mr. Barrows* turn. " So you are still looking for work ? " " Yes, sir ; and a body would think there was nothing for boys to do. I've been miles since I saw you, and not found much of anything." " How dicl you fall in with Mr. Harrison ? " ''Who is he, sir?" " Why that young man who just left the store ; I heard you inquiring after his horse ? " "Oh; I didn't know his name. We took a ride together the other night, and Spunk got afraid, and ran away, and we didn't get home until 'most mom- • n " How came you to ride with Mr. Harrison ? " " Why he told me to jump in, so I did ; and a wild time we had of it. You see," said Reuben, stepping nearer, and dropping his voice to a confidential tone, ' he had been drinking, and he whipped Spunk, and she wouldn't bear it, and just flew away — went straight ahead in her fright, instead of making a turn, and got scared worse at the railroad crossing, and he dropped asleep, and it was dark and windy^ and we had an anjoful time — Spunk and I had. ( '}ii < K \ ,1 I I io8 THE MAlf OF THE F!OUSR. thouf^bt none of us would ever get home alive ; but we did." " I dhouki havu thought that would have been a good temperance lesson for you, my boy," Mr. Bar- rows said, his face very grave. " Yes, sir," said Reuben, simply and gravely. And Mr. Barrows looking closely at him, S!i:«id to himself: " I don't believe he needed any. I believe he is a good boy. How would you like to get work out of town ? " he asked, suddenly. " I wouldn't mind, sir, whether it was out of town, or in, if I could take my family. I couldn't go with- out them, you know." " Couldn't ! " and Mr. Barrows began to feel that the boy's family was a reality, to be considered on all occasions. "Why, no," said Reuben, earnestly. "Yon see they have only me to depend on ; and there ought to be some man around to see after a woman and a little girl. I do a great many things that I wouldn't like to have either my mother or my sister see to." There was no mistake about it, he was a manly boy. Mr. Barrows* heart went out to him. " I'm not sure," he said, " but the best thing you could do would be to move your family right out to our town. Your mother and sister could get nice work and good wages ; and as for you, though I told you the other day I had no place for boys, I shall need one in the spring, and if yon should happen to be the one I want, why I could find you something to do now. I guess your wisest course LOOKING FOR WORK. "09 vrould be to npve. It is cheaper supporting' a family in the country." " Could I get a house, do yon suppose ? " ques- tioned Reuben, his heart beating wildly over the thought of country life, such as his mother could tell him stories of. He and Beth had never seen green grass, and pink-headed clover, and yellow- headed dandelions. These were among their day- dreams. "Oh, yea, there are hou-^es enough. There is one now, just at the foot of my lot ; a nice, little place for a small family. The man who lived in it has just moved out, because it was such a cold house, he said; but the real reason was, he was a shiftless fellow, and didn't like to take the trouble to bank it np, and put it in shape for winter. It is no colder than any other house." " What is the rent ? " asked Reuben, and his heart bumped clearly while he waited. It bumped harder when Mr. Barrows actually named a sum lower by several dollars than they paid for the noi*th room and the big clothes-press ! " I'll talk with mother," he said, eagerly ; " she doesn't like the city, on Beth'f account ; if she will agree to it, I'll move." " Suppose I go and see her? " suggested Mr. Bar- rows, who liked Reuben better every minute, and began to be quite anxious to have him move to the country. " I could explain some things to her better perhaps than you could." Of course Reuben had sense enough to be grateful for this offer ; so it happened that the E»orning was I- ■ i i no THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. not half spent when he appeared at the north room with a stranger. " What has that boy clone now ? " said the won- dering mother, as she looked out of the window, and watched Reuben crossing the street with long strides, the stranger close at his heels. Towards the close of the talk, Mr. Barrows made a startling proposal. " Suppose the boy goes up with me, and tries the work for a few days, and looks around and sees the house ? By that time he will know whether he cares to have you move or not. He seems to be a boy of uncommon good judgment. I have a couple of round trip tickets here ; one of them is of no use to me. It is dated, and the time will run out before my son will be ready to come home. He bought it, and then changed his mind, rU pass Reuben back, without any expense to him. Ft is a short distance, you see." Somebody ought to be able to make a picture of Reuben's eyes for you, as they looked just then. A journey on the cars was another of the dreams that he had looked forward to ; but a journey taken alone, sent off, like any other business man, to look after the interests of his family ! This was something that he had not expected to reach for years. " Reuben ! " said his mother in dismay. " Why he is only a little boy ! " ^' He's an uncommon smart little boy, though, and I'll venture could look after himself, on a forty mile journey, as well as anybody oould do it for him." Ck>usidering the importance of the subject, every'. LOOKING FOR WORK. Ill thing was arranged quite as soon as could be ex- pected ; and it was decided that Heubon should go that very afternoon, on the four o'clock train, to take R look at his possible new home. To be sure, Mrs. Stone changed her mind ten times after Mr. Barrows left, and declared that she could not have Reulien going oflf alone. " Why he had never spent a night away from home in his life ! " " Yes I have, mother," he said, with twinkling eyes; "spent it with a crazy horse, and a crazv man." Miss Hunter came in to hear the news, and took Reuben's side with earnestness. She had no doubt tiiat he would have a good time, and a successful journey. " It seems kind of a wild thing to do," the mother said, looking doutijfully at Keuben. " But then it doesn't cost anything, and perhaps he ought to know whether he could do the work they expect of him, before we make any move. We must do somdhing. I'd like to get into the country, if I could, before another summer ; and this is the first shadow of ft chance I have had." So she bustled around to get him ready. You «rould be surprised to see what a length of time it book ! This family was not afeod to packing. Miss Hunter lent an old-fashioned, flowered carpet-bag for him to carry his clothes, and Beth undertook to pack them. There were not so many that she had any trouble in getting them in ; but grave questions came up for decision. I IIS THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. *' Reuben," she said, turning to him hs he came with his arms full of kindlings — he had been getting ready enough to last until he came back — " do you want to take your Bible ? " " Why, no," said his mother ; " it isn't likely he will have any time to read ; and it isn't worth while to make the carpet-bag any heavier than is neces- sary." " But there will be a Sunday," said Reubon, " and / might want to read a chapter. I guess I'll take it. It isn't very heavy." So the little Bible was packed. Behold Renben, by half-past three, his Sunday shirt on, his carpet- bag on his arm, his cap in hand, ready to bid his mother good-by for the first time in his life. " I'll be back in a week," he said, cheerily, " and if it's all right, we'll move there — won't we? Take care of yourself, mother. If it snoT^ s, Jimmy Briggs will come and make your path. I spoke to him about it. He owes me a good turn or two; and Beth, don't you go after milk unless it is real pleasant. Jimmy Briggs said he would as soon go as not ; he hasn't much to do ; times are so slack. I guess I've fixed all the kindlings you'll need, and I put some eoal in my bedroom, mother, so you wouldn't have to go after it. Well, good-by." His voice choked a little over that word. Never mind if it was only for a week. He was fond enough of his mother and sister not to be ashamed at the sight of a tear over bidding them good-by. As for Beth, she cried outright ; and Mrs. Stone wiped her lOOKTNCf FOP VVOKK. ttj rv'AR on \\^v aproTi two or tbrepfimoM, wbile slie Ptood at the window watcliinpf her boy go down the Rtreet. Mr. BarrowH was walking? the platform, lookinpf ont for him, when he reached the depot, and exclaimed, as he saw him : " TTere yon are, eh ? I bepfan to think you would be left." "No, Hir," said R»>iil)e»n, with the gravity and pre- daion of a train-dospatcher ; " there are four minutes yet before train-time." Whereupon the g'entleraan lanpfhed, and two other gentlemen lookinjjf on, nodded their heads, and said, " Good business talent there." But this Reuben did not hear. He followed Mr. Barrows, took a seat with him on the train ; the engine snorted, and shrieked, and groaned, and finally, having made up its mind to start, did so with a spiteful jerk that threw a small boy entirely from his seat, and they were off. Reuben's first ride on the cars ! You wouldn't have known it if you had been watching him. He was very quiet and at ease. He had stood outside and watched the train off so many times that its way of starting was no novelty to him. So he gave his entire attention to the way thinii^s were manag(?d iuside. Mr. Barrows found an acquaintance a few minutes after they left the depot, and went to talk to him. Left to himself, RfMiben made good use of his time. A lady just in front tvi^^^ged at her window tiice upon a time ; stayed three weeks — the meanest three weeks of my life," " Perhaps he thinks just so about hia life for those three weeks," said lleuben, laughing again, and glancing over to the raan whose character was })eing discussed. He still liked his face, and believed in him, and he had not a very high opinion of the boy who sat beside him. " Maybe he did ! " said the boy, nodding his head with the air of one who could tell a hard story if he chose ; " and maybe you don't know anything about it. I live in the same town, and I know all about him ; there isn't a boy in town who likes him — not one." Reuben instantly made up his mind that he vas sorry because the boy lived in the same town where he was going, and resolved not to say n word about his own expectations and plans. Still, it could do no harm to learn what fault all the Ijoys had to find with the man whom he liked so well. " Why don't they ? " he asked. " Oh, because they, don't ; he's a mean man t-o work for ; never wants a fellow to have any fun ; is always calling out, 'Come, step spry! be sharp t Don't let the grass grow under your feet ; * and all Huch mean things. He docks a fellow's wages if he's live minutes lat;e, and he expects you to work right straight through, from morning till night, without stopping for breath." laa THE MAN OF THE HOUSE, " Nor for dinner ? " asked Reuben. "Oh, botheration! you know what I mean. It Halloo ! you are isn't likely you're so green as all that. I declare* I've got home. Where going ? " " I'm going here, I suppose," said Reuben, spring- ing to his feet, and seizing Mr. Barrows' satchel before he had time to look for it. Then began one of those crowding, pushing scenes which every one understands about who has seen an eicpress train stop at a way station, giving about two minutes for twenty or thirty passengers to get off. Plenty of time, only nobody seems to think so, and they are each determined on being the first one out. When Mr. Barrows was on the platform, he turned suddenly, and said : " I have left my overcoat." " Here it is, sir," said Reuben, just at his side ; and the gentleman who had been talking with Mr. Barrows said : " You have a wide-awake boy there." " I believe I have," said Mr. Barrows, and he smiled on Reuben. Among those who were struggHiig to get out was the little old lady, with her arms full of bundles. Perhaps it was nothing but carelessness that made Uouben's new acquaintance jostle against her, just as she was climbing down the steep steps, sending her bundles flying hither and thither ; if it had been Ml accident, wouldn't you have supposed that h« vmsm REUBEN ON THE RAIL, Its vronld have picked up the bundles, with a red face, and said, " Excuse me ? " Instead of which he put his hands in his pockets to keep them from the keen air, and laughed. Reuben hastily gave the coat and satchel to Mr. Barrows, and stooped down to gather the bundles. Meantime, Mr. Barrows fixed a pair of very keen eyes on the giggling boy. " Andrew," he said, "you have not improved a bit in the last year — have you ? " " Yes, sir," said the boy, promptly ; " I'm three inches taller than I was this time last year." But he blushed just a little, or else the north wind made his cheeks grow redder. All the time there was something new for Reuben during this winter day. The next thing was a great high coach, with broad leather bands for the backs of t^v seats — four seats, each able to take three passengers, and, indeed, when there was need for crowding, four — the whole drawn by four eager- looking horses, whose restless feet pawed the ground as though they were in a hurry to be oflf. During all his ten years of city life Reuben had never seen such a coach before. " Pf'e in," shouted some one, and a great many people ran across the snowy walk to obey the call, among them the little old womUn ; and by the time Reuben (who was really practising on her a little, trying to show himself how he would take care of hii^ mother) had held open the door for her, and passed \ f.' ( ,* ia4 THE MAN Ot THF. HOUSR in her biuidle after her, it became plain that tliere was but one seat left in the coach. "One of you youngsters will liave to sit out- side," said a stoat man, drawing his overcoat about him, and eyeing Tleuben and Andrew : the last - named " youngster " had been watching a liglii between two dogs, and so was the lust one at the coach. " [ know / won't, this cold night," he said, briskly, and, hopping past lleuben as he spoke, took the vacant seat. Ueuben laughed good-naturedly. "You needn't be in such a hurry," he said ; " I'd ]ust as soon ride outside." So, though the little old lady snuggled herself into a very small corner, and declared that they could make room for that boy, Reuben closed the coach-door and climbed to the driver's seat, well pleased to be so near to those four noble-looking 'lorses. What a ride it was ! — snow piled, in some places, higher than the fences, drifted in great white heaps on either side, leaving almost bare places, and making what Reuben Karned to know by the name of " pitch holes," for the runners to drop into every few minutes. In spite of the jolting, and the suddeu descents, ai-d the little squeals which came from inside the coach, Reuben enjoyed the ride. In fact it was almost impossible for him not to enjoy a ride of any kind ; he had so few of them, and be loved horses so dearly. " How far is it to the village ? " he presently asked aaiB RRUIiEN ON THE RATL. ■*5 the diivor, a ^reat hurly rnuii, wLo was half buried in a fur overcoat. No answer. " Well," said Reuben to himself, " you are a grnfl old fellow ; why couldnt you as well be nice, and tell me about things ? What is the use in folks beinj< cross ? This old fellow knows ever so much that I'd like to know, I suppose, and here he means to keep the whole of it to hiniRoU". Maybe he is half- frozen ! I mean to try to thaw him. I wonder if he likes his horses. I'll see if I can find out. What splendid fellows your horses are ! " he said, in a loud and admiring tone. He liked the horses so very much that he did not have to pretend in the least; but the bundle of fur beside him might as well have been a Polar bear for all answer that he received. '' He is a bear, and no mistake," said Reuben to himself, trying in vain to get a glimpse of the man's face ; then he kept still. On went the horses, plough- ing through the snowy road, which was growing more difficult at every step. Reuben began to watch things with wide-open eyes. It became very plain that the man who was holding the reins was not driving; he made not the slightest attempt at guiding the horses into the best parts of the road, nor in checking their speed as they went down a steep hill. * If they didn't know how to drive themselves most woaderiuUy, we should all be pitched into a snow- I »6 THE MAN OF TflR HOVSB. Qiifl," said Reuben, and he peered curioualy into the face of the cross and silent driver. He was more than cross ; no sooner had Reuben got one glimpse when he leaned forward and gave a decided pull to the man's fur coat; then he said, *' Well, I never in ftU my life t^ never \ * M e e CHAPTER XIIl. THE NEW HOME If you bad been there to get a glimpse of the red face, and had been Reuben Watson Stone, I presume yovb would have said, " Well, I never ! " The words seemed almost to take Reuben's breath away ; he sat quite still for a full minute. Another ride with a drunken man ! Over a wild road, with four horses, and rows of men, women, and children inside ! " I should like to know," said Reuben, in his rapid thinking, " why Tm having all this time with drunken folks. I don't need so many examples, I'm sure. I don't believe there ever was a fellow less likely to grow up a drunkard than I am. But see here, what am I going to do ? ** I'll tell you what he wanted to do. He believed in his heart that he could slip those reins from that stupid, sleepy man's hands, and manage those four horses as skilfully as he had managed Spunk bat a few nights before. Only to think how splendid it would be to drive ii^to the village with a grand flourish, having guided the four horses through all the snow-drifts, and brought horn* the people safely ! Four horses ! What would his old city acquaintance Tony Pholps, who boasted of the time when he once til TUP. MAN OF rilE HOUStt. drove two, tliink oi" tli.if. Htory ! It nuulo Ueubon'i h»^art. beat fast to tliink of tl:o j>Mssil)ility. Wliy eliouldn't he do it? Why wouldn't it bo a grand thing to do? He ninna^^cd Spunk in the nipfht and darkness, with a railroad track to croHs r iiore was notliinp; but Huow, and daylight to see it with. Hut — and b^re lv(>ul)en's heart beat faster — who lielped lam the other night ? who was he almost sure had heard the words he spoke in his terror, and quieted his heart, and given him courapfe, and brou<^ht him through in safety ? Well, would not the same great Helper give him aid now ? What made the differ- ence? Reuben felt rather than reasoned out the difference. He knew very well that, in the other case, he was doing right — doing his best — doing the thing that mother, and every one else who knew of it, could commend him for. But suppose he should trust to his own small knowledge of horses, and undertake to manage this whole thing without the help of any of those men inside, would mother think he had done right ? Suppose he got through safely, would that make it a right thing to do? Could he look up with fearless eyes to God, and ask His help for such a work ? Thoughts something like these ran rapidly through Reuben's mind : he went over the whole ground much faster than I have been able to tell you, and decided not only what was right to do, but just exactly what he meant to do He turned himself around in his high seat, stooped down, lifted the leather flap that served as a sort 1^1 THR NEW HOME. l«9 of Window to the front ol' tlio ooucli, and imttinj^ hia mouth to the opouinpf, spoko these words : " See here ! This fellow out Ikm'o Im.s gone to sloop." " What fellow ? " a«ked two or three startlei? voices inside. " Why, the driver ; he has \>(^qx\ drinking, and the motion of the Hloigh has put him to sleep. lie doesn't know what he is about. I've got the reins, but the road is awful." Then there was a commotion inside. Two or three of the women screamed, and the little old woman grasped her umbrella tighter, and looked as though she would like to use it on the driver. " Y(M go, Dick," said one frightened woman, lay- ing her hand on the shoulder of a rough-looking man who sat beside her. " You can manage any horses that were ever made ; and I'm snre I shall die of fright if you aren't driving." Thus coaxed, the rough-looking inan smiled kindly, shook his brawny shoulders, and slowly clambered out, saying nothing, except to Reuben : " Tumble in there, boy, in my seat, and get warm." " Ho ! " giggled Andrew, the minute Reuben was comfortably seated ; " you got a scare, did you ? I wish / had been outside : I'd have kept hold of the reins and said nothing ; and you'd have seen usr come into town with a dash. I can drive four horses as easy as I can one. I just wish I had taken the outside seat." " Thank Heaven, you did not ! " This was what a pale-faced young lady said. Not carelessly, as some : I I lf^ ^Hi MO rmi MA\' OF THh i/or^'B. W' Hpeak their Umiika, hut with a gtuve, ^^a^n^»Ht face. And Mr. Barrows nnswen'd : " I tliiuk n« mucli ! It is fortunate for us that wo had a trustworthy boy on the front sent." "Humph!* snid Andrew, with a chuckle; "a coward on tlie front Hoit., you better say." And not a win^dt^ person in the coach knew how jjfreat a tempta- tion Ueubon Watson iStone had mot and conquered when he ^avt- thoHt» roina into the hands of another. Never mind. He did not like to be called a coward, it is true. Who does ? But in spite of that, there was a very happy feeling at his heart. He could not have explained the feeling, lie hardly knew why it was there ; but any boy who wants to understand jnst what it was like, has only to persist in doing what he knows to be right, when he doesn't want to do it, but would fifty times rather do what he believes to be just tt little bit wrong. A very busy day was that to our " man of the house." In the first place, there was dinner to eat at Mr. Barrows' house — a large, brick house, with a beautiful yard in front, filled with tre^^s and certain mounds covered with snow, which lieu ben knew must be flower-beds, and a bam in the rear which he pri- vately thought was plenty nice enough for a house. The dinner, though not served in so elegant a style as at Spunk's home, was still much finer than any- tliing that Reuben had ever seen away from there, and he did full justice to it — a little flurried, it is true, by the fact that Miss Grace Barrows, who was (miy eight, bad not yet learned that it was rude \p 1 TUB NEW HOME. Ili It ^ stnre, and gave him a j^ckkI i t-al of curious atteution. After dinner, Mr. Barrows said, " Now we will go bo the shop." And lieuben, who was fond of ull HhopH, or places wh are machinery could be seen, found plenty to keep his eyes busy. " What in the world are they all for ? " he anked at last, in f,a-eat astonishmenf, after he ha*! heen taken through two or three rof the hands, n large number of them, right in the busiest season before last fall, struck for higher wages : they were getting pretty good wages too, but they thought they wonld like more, so they struck ; and the manu- facturers made up their minds that as soon as the new year opened they would hire new hands, and get ready for the next hurrying season before it came* So they are all advertising for workers : that is what people get who aren't willing to let well enough alone." " What is the rent of this housi ? " It was a quiet little question, buc it took Reuben nearly teu minates to get courage to ask it ; he so fully ex- pected to have his hopes dashed to the ground by the answer. " Well," said Mr. Barrows, meditatively, " that would depend a little on who rented it. If your mother wants it, I think I could get it for her for a hundred dollars a year." " That's only a little over eight dollars a month," said Reuben, and his cheeks were crimson, and his eyes very bright. It actually was but a trifle more than they had to pay every month for the north room and the clothes-press ! Now, if he could but manage to earn enough to make up the di£ference, and have a little left to go for coal, they might try the new home ! " What could I earn in a week, do you suppose ? " and Mr. Bairows oould hardly help smiling over the boj'i eagemeM. THR NEW HOME, ».17 ** Well '30W, my man, that woald depend entirely on yourself. Some boys don't earn the salt that tlu^y eat with their potatoes; I wouldn't promise to furnish it, for all they do. Then again there are boys who earn good wages, and help their mothers right straight through. I had a boy last year who earned his three dollars a week, all through the year.** " In the box business ?** " In the box business.*' " How old was he ? " " About your age ; a trifle older perhaps, but what he did, he could have done just as well if he had been » year younger." " Was he a mry smart boy ; smarter than i could be?" Mr. Barrows laughed. " How can I tell ? No, if you mean was he a remarkable boy, he wasn't. He was just a good, faithful fellow, doing his best." '' If I Bhould do my best, could I earn as much as that ? " " I shouldn't wonder at all." " For how many months in the year ? ** Mr. Barrows laughed. " You will make a good business man, I think," he said, pleasantly. " You remember to look cioaely into things. Well, the season, that ii",, the hi«\i season, lasts for about nine months in the year. If I were you I would plan to work hard for those nine months, aHd go to school the other three — and do \i 1 Iff ! li I3« THE MAff OF THR ffOUSH. odd jobs ontof school hours to earn your bonrd. For aine months I think you could earn from two to three dollars a week at the box business, without any trouble, and I would j^ve you your board for what you could do after school, during the other three months." "I think mother will come," said ReTiben, with shining eyes ; " and I shall te'il Miss lluuter what you said about the glove business." " All right," said Mr. Barrows. " I advertised for hands for my brother-in-law ; he is a manu- facturer, and he runs those little machines I was telling you about. If you say so, we will go now and see them." So they passed out, Reuben locking the door of the neat little house, wondering much whether it could possibly be for him to lock it many times in the future. He felt in such a ^urry to go and tell his mother all about it, that he was almost sorry that the last plan had been for him to spend the night at Mr. Barrows', and go home by the morning train. Still, if they were really going to move^ there were ever so many things that he was man enough to know needed looking after. The little machines, one of which Mr. Barrows seemed to think Betli might manage, seemed to be the next things in order. "The queerest-looking creatures he ever saw in his life ! " This was the way Reuben would have described them had he been talking to his mother or Beth. They seemed too small to be called machines. ' 1 TffE NEW HOME, A. ronnd board about the size of a barrel-head, a shaft of wood about three feet long, standing upright from the centre of the barrel-head, finished at the top by a brass mouth about four inches long. This luouth had rows of tiny teeth on either side, match- ing exactly. It opened its jaws whenever the spring at the bottom was touched, and seized and held firmly whatever was placed inside. Reuben watched while a pretty girl of fourteen took a kid glove of about the right size for his mother, folded it care- fully across the back, made the little creature open its brass mouth and take it in, then with a fine needle and a silk thread, she went rapidly down the length of the brass mouth, putting the needle between each tooth, making a little click, clicking noise with her thimble against the brass, and doing it all so rapidly that Reuben was lost in astonishment. When the jaws opened, and the glove was drawn out, he leaned forward eagerly to discover a long, smooth row of the daintiest stitches, somewhat like those that his mother took in shirt besoms ! " It is beautiful ! *' he said, admiringly ; " and how fast she did it ! " " How would the sister at home like that sort of work ? " asked Mr. Barrow a ; and Reuben, who had not fancied the idea of setting Beth at work, for the first time began to think that perhaps such work as this might do for even Beth. When he heard that very industrious, little girls actually earned sometimes a dollar a day, and that his mother would have no trouble in earning that ''1 i II i u 140 TJJS MAN OF Tim HOUSE. «nra, he said emphfttically, **I Atuwo mother will move." At last the exciting day was done. Reuben had aucomplished a great deal of business. He had boeu to the freight dep6t, and learned the price of frei^^ht, and the exact way of marking it ; he had learned the price of butter, and meat, and flour, and milk, find wood. In short, he Lad done everything that he could think of, which it seemed likely to him tltut a man, with a family to provide for, would have done. Mr. Barrows looked on, sometimes amused, and sometimes touched almost to tears by the small boy's thoughtful planning for mother and sister. Where he needed help he got it, but for the most of the work Mr. Barrows left him to himself, curious to see how he would carry out his plans. " The boy has the wisest head set on his young shoulders that I ever saw in my life ! " he said to his wife that evening, after Reuben had gone to bed. "He hasn't done any- thi.itr vvonderful either. I don't know that he is any smarter than most boys of his age ; he simply has used the brains that fellows like Andrew Porter spend in mischief, to help him in supporting his family. The notion he has that he is the man of the house, and must look after the comfort of his folks, like any other man, is worth a fortune to him. I believe the boy will be a rich man, while he is a young one. ' *^ You have taken one of your tremendous likings to him," Mrs. Barrows said, laughing. '' 1 don't wonder. I fancy him myself; and as for (irace, sha ii 7 HE HHW HOMB. 141 wants ti) teach him music and drawing right away. I hope the rest of the family are half as nice. Do you believe they will come ? " " I do, if Reuben can bring it to pnsR ; and I think he can. I put the rent of the little house at a hundred dollars. I'd have made it lower, if the boy's bright eyes hadn't been fixed right on me. I knew he would suspect tiometliing ; he isn't after charity. I hope T shall not be disappointf'r in him. If he doofln't prrow up a smart, biiMiTiosa iimn, as well as a j;ood iiiau. \ 8!)iilJ wonder ut jt." m \n\ CHAl^ER XIV. IN THE BOX FACTOR r. Reuben Watson Stone sat on the side of his V)od and gazed about him. There was plenty to gaze at. He had never seen a prettier room in his life. The carpet was soft and bright, the gaslight making the flowers on it glow so that it seemed to the boy as though he might stoop and pick them. He thought of his sister Beth, and wished she could see the pretty carpet, and the pretty furniture, and the pretty curtain? and everything. " I suppose this is me," he said to himself. " It doesn't seem as though it could be. This is just the queerest kind of a world. Just think of the things that are happening to me ! Ever so many of them come into one week. I lived most ten years without any happenings, and then they all came and tumbled themselves into a week! I wonder how we'll get money to move ! Mother will surely move here, when she hears of how much money I can earn, and how nice it will be for Beth. We can both go to school some. It is a splendid chance. Isn't it a queer thing, now, that all these chances came because I wouldn't go to that St. Mark's saloon to sell liquor? Mr. Barrows said he never would .^f^* ,.^"' ^ \ ■■K-' \\ I 1 m THE BOX FACTORY. m hiive thought of Quch a thing as briTiging me home with him if he hadn't heard about that." There were so many wonderful things to think about, that Reuben was in danger of not getting to bed at all. He did not feel sleepy : in fact, he told hiaiself that he didn't believe he could sleep a wink that night. At last, however, he heard the clock around the cornor strike ten, and, very much astonished at the lateness of the hour, he hurried into bed. No sooner was the gas turned out, so that all the pretty things were lost to sight, than he went to dreamland. The next morning began a new life for Reuben Watson Stl I! i 1 a ■ 1 isl i s 144 THE MAN OP TIIR HOUSn. Hfl I saw yestiMtliiy. Wuu't it bo fuu to hIiow her |j(»vv t bit hoin»'sick. It isn't an oasy thin[( for a boy to bo jiwuy from hia mother for the first tirno. In ,the pasting-room there were only boys at work ; tive or six of them, a little older than Ilenbon. Thoy were covering great shoots of pasteboard with wot paper. Reuben was anxious to try his skill, and very soon had a chance. He had dreamed in the night '.hat he oould do wonderful things in the box 'imHiuoss. Alap for dreams^ Never had he undertaken anything so dreadful. Mr. Barrows left him in chargo of a l)oy named Wesley, with directions that he t4?ach young Stone just what to do. So Wesley began a series of orders about what must and must not bo done ; all 80 rapidly given that poor Reuben was utterly be- wildered. " Won't you please go slower ? " he asked, at last. "I'm getting all mixed up." Then all the boys laughed loud and long, as if getting mixed up were a good joke. " Very well," said Wesley. " I'll go 83 slow as a snail. First you spread a sheet of paper on the pasteboard — not on the floor, nor on the wall, but on the pasteboard. Do yon understand that ? Are you Bare I'm not gcing too fast ? Well, then you take #■ y IN THE BOX FACTORY. »4$ thftbniHh in your rif(ht hand — mind, \ siiy ririht hand, because if you take the left, it's all up with you — tad yon dip it in the paste. Is that plain: mrt you understand ? Dip it way in ; the more paste you pfet on the better ; in fact, if you don't spread the paste on thick the first time, you spoil the whole thing ; if you should take the whole tubful and pour over it afterwards it would do no good. Well, dash in your brush, and daub on the paste, half an inch thick, or less : wet every inch of the paper, then dip in your brush a<(ain and go all over it once more." " Yesterday, when I watched yon, you didn't dip it in but once," said Reuben gravely, sur that he was being made sport of, but not knowing enough about the business to be sure how far the sport went, and where the things that he must do began. " Oh well, I was at work at a different quality of paper ; that makes all the difference in the world," said Wesley. " You mustn't judge by your eyes ; if you let them rove around to look at other folks, you'll never learn how in the world. Mind '^hat I say to you, and go ahead ! When you get your paper rtal wet, whisk it over ; the quicker you can do it the better, and then with this big brush smooth it down ; you have to bear on vnth all your mighty or the thing goes and wrinkles ; it is a ticklish job, I can tell you. In much fear and trembling, Beuben went to work. He could see his fellow-workers giggling and nudg- ing each other, and acting as much like wretches as \\ % *46 THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. % they oould, while Wesley stood at his elbow, talking all the time and contradictinjif his own directions. It was worse than driving Spunk. He thought wistfully if Mr Barrows hed (»Uy let him go in a room by himself — aft^r watching the others for a while — and try it, he might have done something. But there was no help for it now. He dipped the brush into the bed of paste " Dip lower, ma4," said Wesley. *' What are you afraid of V" So he dipped lower, and, though it made him shiver, brought the dripping brush to the delicate white paper. Splash, splash, splash over the smooth surface ; it reminded him of stepping with wet and muddy feet on a bank of fair morning snow. The paste lay in thick ridges all over the sheet. Then he took hold of tho two comers carefully, at the same time remembering his direction to be " as quick as a wink." Alas ! it would not turn at all. It seemed to wilt in his haiids into a soft and pulpy mass, and lie in a discouraged heap in the middle of the wet i»oard He looked up in utter dismay, while the boys shouted with laughter '^ It is ruined \ " he gasped " I should think it was ! " laughed Wesley. " Isn't enough of it left to make a dishcloth. Awfvl expen- sive paper, f 30 ; you'll ruin the old chap, if you keep on long ia this style < IVy again ! " And Keuben tried again, and again, and again, his Cace red apd pale by turns his eyes now bright with m THE BOX FACTORY. '47 hope^ now heavy with despuir. Once his inatructor kindly offered to shovv him how, and turned the drip- ping mass with a fling that Beuben tried in vain to catch ; then he tried his skill with the rubbing-down brush, remembering Wesley's repeated caution to bear on hard; the consequence was that the wet mass parted in the middle, half of it staying on the board, and half of it rolling itself in a sticky ball, and following the line of the brush. With the fifth trial, which was worse than all the others, Reuben quietly laid down both brushes and walked out o< the room. " Beaten, as sure as I'm alive ! " shouted Wesley, doubling himself up with laughter, and rolling over and over on a pile of pasteboards that stood near. " I didn't think it would be so easy done ; something in his face made me think he wasn't so chicken- hearted as you would suppose from his size." " Too bad on the little fellow, * said one boy who had laughed less than the others. "He's away from home, and homesick, maybe. Whui was the up.e I »» " Oh, now do^i't you go to getting spooney ! " said Wesley. " Serves him just right ; what business had he to come slipping in here aiuong us ; there's lots of fellows in town who want the place. Barrows needn't think we are going to have any little rag-bag from the city poked in among us." While they talked it over, Beuben went straight to the room marked "Office," and knocked at the door. Mr. Barrows' voice told him to oome in. That I I4> THE MAN OF THE HOUSR, gentleman was seated at hif desk, looking over a pile of letters; he seemed grave and busy. Reuben stood for fully five minutes before getting any atten- tion. At last Mr. Barrows looked up and said, "Well!" not in a very encouraging tone, but us though he did not care to be interrupted. "I don't think I'll suit, sir," Reuben said. He tried to keep his voice from trembling, bat it was hard work, and his face was very pale. " Sick of it already, eh ? " In spite of his disappointment and bitter sense of failure, Reuben could not help a wan smile from creeping into his face as he answered : " No, sir ; but it is sick of me. They tear just awfully! I've torn up and spoiled five of those great big beautiful sheets of paper, and I did my best." "You have!" said Mr. Barrows, and Reuben could not decide whether his voice had anger in it, or only surprise and dismay ; but he stood his ground manfully. " Yes, sir, I have ; and I'm awful sorry. I thought I could do it, and I tried ; but it got worse and worse; and now if there was something that you were mre I could do, to give me till I earned enough to pay for that paper, I'd work nights and all." " Just so," said Mr. Barrows ; " I'll think about it. Yon may sit down on that stool until I writs a letter, then we'll attend to it." So Reuben perched himself on a stool, with folded IN THR BOX FACTORY, t4f arms and sad heart, and was motionless until the rapid pen had dashed a dozen or more lines on the paper. At last the writer looked up again. " Now, my boy, the paper tore, did it ? " " All to pieces," said Reuben, mournfully ; " went all to squash ! It isn't good for anything." " And how did the other boys take it ? ** *' Well, sir, they laughed all the time." " How did you like Wesley ? " Reuben looked down on the Hoor. What had that to do with the torn paper, and his failure in business. But Mr. Barrows waited, and at last he stammered that he didn't think he liked him very well. " Did the directions that he gave you about the work seem like common sense ? " " No, sir ! " That answer was prompt enough. " What was the matter with them ? " " Why, he said dip the brush way in, and put on lots of paste ; and / didn't see how the paper could help tearing." Mr. Barrows turned over some papers on his desk, and seemed to be thinking about them for a few minutes, then he said : " Suppose you had a present of fifty sheets of pasteboard and fifty sheets of that best white paper, and nobody had any right to ask you what became of them, what would you do ? " ** I'd earn some paste, somehow, and find a place to work in, and Fd learn how to pat the papers on, if it took me all winter.** U If' ii ■so THE MAN OF THE nOUSH. I u " Very well ! " said Mr. Barrows ; " I'll present you with fifty sheets of paper and pasteboard to spoil, if you have to, with the understanding that if they come oat in good shape they are to be mine ; and if they are spoiled, they are yours to make your fortune out of. 1*11 even lend you the paste *' — a curious smile lighting up his face as he said this — " and a place to work in. You can pay me when you make your for- tune. And now the sooner you get to work, the less time you will lose." " Thank you,*' said Reuben, getting down from his perch, his eyes shining. " I'll go right at it." Back he went with rapid feet to the work-room, and appeared before the boys, whose shouts of laugh- ter were still echoing through the house. They stopped in astonishment at sight of him. " Dear me ! " said Wesley. " You here ? I thought you ran home to tell your mother. Poor little fellow ! He looks pale, boys; I believe he fainted on the v^ay ; we shall have to put some paste in his face to revive him." But the fan was cut short by the arrival of Mr. Barrows ; in an instant every boy who had left his post to help in the joke at Reuben's expense was* back at work.** " These doors are very thin, boys,** was the only hint that gentleman gave that he had heard every word. Then he called Wesley to him, and told him to stand by his side, and give the few general direc- tions that were important in learning to spread the pa{^er. IN 1HR BOX FACTORY. «5i " Much paste or little, Wesley *f ** '* As little as possible, sir." " You may tell Stone so, then." And Wesley, with a very red face, repeated tliis to Eleuben* " About the brush, Wesley. Should the touch with it be light or heavy ? " " Very light, sir." This, too, he had to repeat to Reuben. Tlipn he gave strict orders that no boy in the room siiould speak to, or in any way interfere with the new- comer's ways of doing things. " Whether he does a new way or an old one, right or wrong, I forbid any boy to interfere; he is going to experiment, and is to be let alone. Remember, boys" — in a significant tone — ^*1 forbid it." Then he went away, and Reuben had peace. The boys giggled, to be sure, and made funny speeches at his expense, at some of which he won their hearts by laughing ; for Reuben was such a good-natuied fellow that he could not help laughing at a joke, even when he was the victim. But his work was not meddled with, and after one or two failures, he began to catch the secret. When, two hours afterwards, Mr. Barrows looked in to see how the experiment was working, Reuben told him proudly that only seven of the pasteboards were his; he didn't see but the others were as good as any* body's. '^ All right ! " the geutlenjan said, with a satiHiied '> ii l\. iSi THB MAN OF THE BOUSE, smile. *' Keep track of these seven boards, and make your fortune with them." Instantly thnre flashed over Reuben a new idea. What if he should begin to make his for- tune oat ot those seven pasteboards ! Whd (/ /<« s/iould / i' I! CHAl^ER XV. CLARKE POTTER, From the pasting-room Reuben was called down- stairs to tlie marking and cutting-room. The queoi little machine that bit the corners out of the covers so skilfully,^ had taken his fancy the day before, and to his great delight he was set to working it. Skill was required here as well as in pasting, but it was of a different sort, and Reuben caught the movement of the machine at once; his eyes brightened with every turn of the bright shears. "You have a very correct eye," Mr. Barrows said to him, and then his face broadened in a suiile. His success was worse for him, in one sense, than his failure in the upper room had been, iuasmnch as it moved certain of the others to envy. They did not approve of the city boy at the best ; as if there were not fellows enough in the town to run the factory ! This was the way they felt, and this, in some form, was what they growled to each other from time to time. Little attention did Reuben pay to them ; so that he guided the skilful shears iu biting out those square comers, it was ail he m %\ IS4 THB MAN OF TJ^^ HOUSE asked. The very speed with which it worked was a delight to him. Reuben liked fast things. Mr. Barrows was moving in and out, talking with first one workman, then another, with a general eye to all that was going on. During one of his visits he was sharpening a pencil with a very choice, four- bladed knife, whose pearl handle and polished steel caught an admiring flash from the eye of every boy in the room. Near the busy shears he laid both down for a moment, while he explained to the man who was running the large machine just how a certain kind of board was to be cut. Then came a sudden call for him from tiie office, and he went away. It was perhaps an hour afterwards that he came in hastily, and looked among the fast increasing pile of chips that was gathering around the little shears as Reuben still successfully clipped out the oomers. "Boys, have any of you seen anything of my knife ? " he asked, and half a dozen pairs of hands paused in their work, and as many pairs of eyes looked up to his ; innocent eyes, and certain mis- chievous oaes. But they shook their heads. Before, however, one of the others could speak, Reuben's clear voice was heard : " Yes, sir ; I had a glimpse of it. It is in the upper pocket of my jacket ; and the pencil you were i^harpening is there too." Mr. Barrows looked at him in astonishment it if \ 1 CZAKKE POTJRR. I« trre, but. it diVl not compare with the amazement on che faces of the boys. " Reuben," said the gentleman, in a grave, inquir- ing voice, *' did you fear that the knife and pencil would get lost, and so put them in your pocket for safe keeping ? " " No, sir ; didn't put them there at all ; biit 1 know they are there, for I saw them drop in." Thau Rpeing that Mr. Barrows still waited with a grave and not altogether pleased face, he added : " I didn't touch them, sir, as true as I live." " Will you explain, then, how they got into your pocket? " " They were put in, sir." " But not by your hands ? * " Not by my hands." '' Do you know anything about whose hands put them there ? " In that room, at that moment, busy place though it generally was, you could have heard a pin drop. Every boy was listening. One of them had a red face. For just a moment Reuben considered, then he spoke : " Yes, sir, I know just exactly whose hands put them there ; but I kind of think it was done just for fun, without much thinking about, or meaning any harm, and if you will take them away, and excuse the hands that dropped them there, I will too." ** Boys," said Mr. Barrows, turning from Reuben, *1 i !l fife ri i ; ' !# THR MAN OF TffR HO VSR i< ^=» yon hear what this new-comer says. He ip • stranger to all of you, but I know him a little, and I have some reason for trusting him ; still, I will be fair to every one of you, and give you a chance to express an opinion. Do you believe that he has told the truth about my knife and pencil ? * A chorus of voices ansv7ered him : ** Yes, sir ; we know he has." ** Very well, then, 1*11 claim my property." And he went to the poor little almost worn-out jacket, and took from the pocket the four-bladed knife and pencil ; as he did so, he said : " Now there is at least one boy in the room who has been guilty of a very mean trick, and ought to be ashamed of himself. I don't know which one it is, and don't want to. Since Reuben has asked it as a favour, I am willing to excuse the hands that put them in. I hope the owner of those hands will be manly enough to apologize for the mischief he tried to do, and say ' thank you,' for the kindness shown him." Then Mr. Barrows went away. Reuben made the little machine bite out the corners as fast as it could, and did not raise his eyes. Not a boy spoke. After a little one of them whistled, then several of them laughed. Reuben worked on. It was not iintil the great bell in the church-tower around the corner rang out its six o'clock call to come home to supper that the tongues of those boys were let loose. Then while they rushed for caps and coats and mittens, they all talked at once; not ioud enough for CLARKE POTTRM. w Reuben to untlorstand what they said, but loud enough for him to know they were talking about the knife and the pencil. One, the oldest and most lawless-looking, lingered while Reuben hunted among the chips he had made for a bright bit of paper that he had a fancy to save for Beth. " Honour bright," said the boy, " do youknow who put the knife in your pocket ? " Reuben turned full bright eyes on him and answered quickly : " Know as well as though you had told me all about it beforehand ; you did it yourself." Whereupon the boy gave a sharp little whistle. " What did I do it for ? " he asked, presently. ^ I don't feel so sure of that. I thought maybe it was just for what some fellows call ' fim ; ' I don't see much fun about it, but I thought perhaps you did, and if you meant nothing but that, why there's no harm done." " Suppose I meant a good deal more than that ? " " Then there's lots of harm done ; you feel mean over it by this time, and folks don't like to feel mean ; at least, I don't." " Why didn't you tell Mr. Barrows which of us did it?" " I didn't see any good in that. He got his property and that was what he was after, and I proved all around that I had nothing to do with putting it where it didn't belong, and that was what I was after." I 1 \ I I I^t THF. MAN OF TUK HOTTER. " Wr^ll," Nnid the other, aftor a ROTiunvluif. lon^for pause, " my tiame is Clarko I 'otter, and 1 didn't mean a single thing only to have some fun, and tense you a bit; I thonglit you was a spooney little fellow away from his mother, and we might as well have a little fun with you as not." '' All right," said Reuben, gravj^ly. ' I'm a little fellow, that's a fact ; look younger than I am, and I'm away from my mother. Ah for being spooney, I dpn't feel any too sure that 1 know just what it means down here in the country. Perhaps I am a spooney, and perhaps 1 ain't ; never mind. The knife is where it ought to be, and 1 guess you and I will be all right after this." " I guess we will ; I mean t/O stand up for yon. Only I'd like to know this : are you one of the goody-goody sort ? " " Don't know them," said Reuben, in utmost goud- humour. '' What are they like ? " " Oh bother ! you're not so green as all that. Are you one of them that thinks it is wrong 'o wink, or sneeze, or whistle, and that tells your mother every time you turn around, and says your prayers, and all that?" The merry twinkle went out from Reuben's eyes, but he looked with clear, steady gaze at Clarke Potter, and answered slowly: '• I'm good at whistling, or bad, I don't know which to call it ; mother says I almost deafen her sometimes. I like to tell things to her first-rate, when I don't think they will worry her too much ; ^ CLARKE POTTER. !$<» ^ you Bee it is differeut witlj me from w fmfc it is with most boys ; my i'itther has boen dead a long while, and 1 am the only boy — in fact, I'm n^ t a boy at all. I have to do what I can to support tho family. IVe been the man of the house these three years, so I have to think about things. As for saying prayers, I never did much of that — forgot it, yon know — after I got too old to say them with mother ; but one night a whilo ago 1 was in an awful danger— didn't expnct to get home alive — and 1 just asked God to help me, the same as if I could see Him, you know, and He did it. Since then I've thoujrht it would be A good plan t<3 ask Him about things." Said Clarke: "You are a very queer chap! A wry queer chap indeed ! " he added gravely, after a slight pause. " But I'll stand up tor you through thick and thin ; I will so. And when Claike Potter makes a promise it means something." Work went on quietly after this for two days. The boys tried to tease Reuben occasionally, but there were two things in the way of their doing much in this line. Reuben was hard to tease ; he was goud- natured over what would have made many boya angry ; he laughed when they expected him to frown, and whistled when they had planned for him to growl ; besides, he soon discovered that (ylarke Potter was a sort of leader among them, and when he said : " Look here, fellows, if you know when you're well off, you'll let that little chap alone ; he's a friend of mine ! " the boys knew he meant it. Reuben's success in the box business was a surprise I I ^^\\ r 160 THR MAN OF THE HOUSE, Fi to himself. He learned rapidly. Not that he wai any smarter than most bright boys of his age, but he had a mind to do his best all the time : and the box trade is, like most others, easy to learn when a wide- awake fellow does his bept. He discovered from Mr. Barrows' manner, rather than from anything he said, that he was giving satis- faction, but on Saturday the gentleman spoke : " Reuben. Mrs. Barrows thinks it would be a good plan for you to hire a woman to clean the little house, and get it reaay for your mother. What do you think about it ? " Reuben's face brightened, then grew sober. "I'd like it first-rate," he said with his usual promptness ; " only I don't know whether mother *' Why, she's ♦ihe very one we are trying to please f What's in the way?" " Well, you see, sir, it takes a good deal of money to move, and we are pretty short in that lino, and I don't know but mother would think I ought to have saved the money and let her and Beth do the cleaning." '* I see," said Mr. Barrows, and he looked by no lieans displeased. After a few quiet minutes he dpoke again. " There is a woman li\ing down the lane from my house, who wants a cord of wood split and carried into her wood-shed. She works at house- cleaning, and washing, and all that sort of thing, and she can't aflford to pay money for her work. How would it do to turn a job ? or are you too tired, when CLARKE POTTER. nix o'clock comes, to think of splitting wood by the light of a lantern ? " Now was Reuben's face all bright. " It will do splendidly ! " he said with the eager- ness of a boy who had a fortune Isft him. " If I can get the job, mothei shall come to % clean " You shall have the job," Mr. Barrows said with well-satisfied face. " I promised her this morning I would look out for a boy of the right sort." An hour afterwards Rei^ben was downstairs piling boxes in the hall, ready for the delivery waggon, when Mr. Barrows drove up in his oarriago, and jumped out, leaving little Miss Grace in charge. "Shall I hold your horse, sir?" asked Reuben, bestowing admiring glances on the sleek coat of the handsome fellow. " No ; he ii used to holding himself. He is better traine.uHe tie is 80 big. IsnH he big ? " ahe Huid with pride. Just theu a paper fluttered from tlie desk, out of the door, down the walk, st<9, r^frhaps, jart how fast h« was travelling at that moiueuth OHAPTEK XVI, RF.UnF.N CONQURftS SAMSON. Oh, d«ar ! What a boy whh Kftuben for getting hiinHelf into m( rafiwi with horseH ! Here waH he being whirled along \ajio fast for thiniting. ont^ would nup- poHH, while Mr. liarrowB, without hin hat, and with his cottt-Hkirts tiyiug in thei air, followed on foot, shouting at ^Iw top of his lungs : " Stop that horse ? Stop that horse ! " As if one cMjuld stop the wind ! Men came out from their store doors and ntared and winked, and b;y that time Samsr>n had passed them. Meantime a white, frijrhtened little heap was curled up in the closest corner of the bbck seat. Thi.*' waa Grace Barrows. " Don't you He frightened, (rracie ; I'm coming." This was what she heard in the cheeriest of tone* coming from somewhere -> ' the groond behind her. Sure enough ! Reuben had not clung to the hind spring for nothing He had climbed like a monkey to the back of the carriage, and wat- hard at work with hands anc! teeth trying to unfasten the curtain ; all the time he worked, he kept o^ a clMen. coai^eraft- tion with Grace Barrows. " Don't yoQ be ssared, Gracie ; 111 «» there ui « \ ii i 164 THE HAN OF THE HOUSE |iff. Can't you catch hold of the reins ? Then per- haps he will stop." " I can't," said the white, trembling lips. " They have dropped away down at the side." " That so ? Well, never you mind ; this old buckle is giving way now ; in another second I'll be tnere and I'll get the reins." " O Reuben ! Do you suppose you can stop him ? " *' Of course I can. You'll see how quick he will mind when he has to." What lovely music Reuben Watson Stone's voice was to poor, frightened little Gracie! Another vigorous twitch to the strap, and Reuben had clam- bered over the seat, and was reaching over the dash- board for the reins, all the time talking liO Samson in a good-uatured tone : " Old fellow, good oil fellow, don't be scared ; nothing is the matter ; it is just a notion of yours. You needn't go so fast as that ; plenty of time ; you are scaring your little mistress, and that ui mean of you! At last he had the reins gathe*^ firmly in his two stout young hands, and had climbed back to a seat, and pressed his two stout feet firmly against the dash-board. Then his t^)nes suddenly changed, and Samson was greeted with a loud, firm " Whoa ! " at the same 1 iuie the pull cm the reins was Hte^iy and strong. '' Whew ! " said Samson to himself. " Tluit means business I A minute ago 1 was my own master, and was flying away from that awful white thing that \ ^ a RUB EN CONQUERS SAMSON. m \ came ap to swallow me, and here I am being jerked at in the same old fashion. I wonder if I've got to stop ! How he does jerk ! I don't know his voice : it isn't my master ; I don't believe. I'll stop. It ia rather pleas-ant, this running away ; I never tried it before." " Whoa ! " said the firm voice again, and the pull on the reins was steady and strong. " I do believe I've got to stop going like the wind," said Samson. To be sure I did not hear him say all this ; but don't you know that actions speak louder tnan words? By the time they had reached the comer of the long square around which the town was built, Samson's wild run had steadied into a most respectable trot, and the people who looked saw only a little boy and girl taking a ride. To be sure, the boy had no hat on, and rather a light jacket for such a frosty morn- ing ; but that, of course, concerned only himself. '' Has he truly stopped running away ? " asked Gracie, coming out of her little huddle in the corner. '' Of course he has ; no danger of his doing any more of it very soon ; he is beginning to be real ashamed of himself now ; he f^^els mean. He wasn't exactly running away, only making up his mind he would. Now he is sorry that he didn't behave better, so he could be trusted. I see by his ears that he is sorry." '' He ought to be," said Gracie, drawmg a long breath, and speaking in a voice that trembled. « f 166 ri/E MAN OF THE HOUSE. '* He never did such a thing before ; papa has left me in the carriage lota of times, and not tied him^ and he always stood just as still ! " " Well, you see, he thought that piece of newspaper was a great white elephant come to swallow him. Me isu't a iiteraiy horse, and itn he didn't recognize the morning paper." And Reuben fumbled in his pocket as he> added : " 1 wonder if I've got that other paper safe ! Tes, here it ia. What a pity it isn't anything but a paper ! It deserves a New Year's dinner or something for blowing out of the door just in the nick of time.** Whereupon he explained to Gracie how the little piece of paper with a few words written on it had suddenly started up and gone down to the carriage, and how he had been sent for it, and had just taken hold of the carriage to pick it up when Samson made op his mind to leave. " Says I to nlyself : I'll hold on to the paper and yon too, old fellow. I'm fond of riding myself, and if you won't wait for me to get my hat, why, I can go without it. See here, Gracie, if I turn at this corner will I get to the factory sooner ? I'm in a hurry to see your father ; or at least, I guess he is in a hurry to see you." Do you expect me to try to tell you how Mr. Bar- rows felt as >.e saw that wicked horse whisking around the comer with his only Uttle daughter alone in the carriage ? It seemed to }um that he fairly flew through the street, but Samson flew faster. However, he remembered the cross street also, and, REUBEN CONQUERS SAMSON, tm mth a wild hope that he might in some way head the horse off, he dashed across lots and reached the further comer just as Reuben guided Samson skil- fully around it: meek Samson, obedient to every touch of the harness. •' Whoa ! " said Reuben again, and Samson stopped. " Here we are, Mr. Barrows," said Reuben. " It's pretty cold this morning for riding : still, we had a nice time." " My little darling ! *' This was every word Mr Barrows said, and he had his arms around Gracie. " I'm not hurt a bit, papa ; not a bit," she assured him. '^ Reuben tugged at the straps and got them loose and climbed in, and Samson minded him right away after a minute. O papa, aren't you glad you brought Reuben home with you ? " " Shall I drive on, sir ? " asked Reuben, who had slipped into the front of the carriage and who seemed to think that the talk was getting too personal. " Yes," said Mr. Barrows, his voice vcory gentle and tremulous. He did not speak again, only to ask Gracie if she was very much afraid, and if she was quite warm now, and over her fright ; but after he had lifted her tenderly to the ground and watched her into the house, he turned to Reuben, who stood at Samson's bridle awaiting orders, and said : '^ I shall never forget this morning, my boy." Perhaps you think it was not much to say, but it sent the blood dancing through Reuben's veins and roUioking all over hb face. M' u i68 THB MAN OF THE HOUSE. ** Will you take the hurbt^ nrouniJ U) tli« stable for me, and unharness him ? " Thie was Mr. Barrows' next aentence, and aimosr before it was finished, Reuben had bounded back again into the carriage with a delig!-ted " Yes, sir." "What a lark this is!" he told himseir as he drove through the avenue. " I shouldn't wonder if it would get me the chance of taking care of this great big splendid horse now and then. Clarke Potter said he wouldn't let one of the factory boys look at his old horse, but I've looked at him several times to-day, I'm thinking." It was not until dinner-time that Mr. Hurrows met Reuben again, just as he was leaving the box factory, and said : " I suppose, my boy, the first piece of paper went off on the wind, did it ? " Then Reuben, with a red face, fumbled in hiu pocket. " I forgot to give it to you, sir ; Samson and every thing sent it right out of my mind." " Then you really picked it up ! " The surprise in his voice gave Reuben a queer sense of delight that he could not have explained if he had tried. " It is worth a thousand dollars, my boy. But you saved something for me this morning that is worth a thousand worlds, if I had them." "My!" said Reuben. It was his only way of espressing astonishment ; not over the "' thousand worlds" — he was prepared to believe that Grace Barrows was worth a great deal more than that, but '•v RRUBRN CONQUERS SAMSON •«9 over the fact that that simple-looking bit of paper oould actually be worth a thousand dollars ! " I don't see how you got in," continued Mr. Barrows, staring down at the piece of paper. "Those buckles haven't been unfastened in six months, and 1 noticed yesterday that they were rusty." There was a mischievous twinkle in Reuben's •yes, and he felt exactly like saying that he didn't get into that piece of paper, and there were no buckles on it so far as he could see, but he controlled his tongue and answered respect- fully : " Tugged at 'em, sir. You see I knew they had got to come unbuckled so I could get in. I didn't think I could climb ovek' the top and get down that way in time to save mischief ; besides, there was the danger of scaring the horse more by doing that." " My boy, did you know that the lake was less than a quarter of a mile away in a straight line with the direction that the horse took ? " Mr. Barrowt' voice was husky and his eyes were dim. " Yes, sir," said Reuben, looking down so that he might not seem to see the tears in the gentleman b eyes ; " that was the reason I had to hurry so." Mr. Barrows turned away abruptly ; he could not trust himself to say any more just then. On his way back from dinnei\ Reuben discovered that the work of cleaning had been begun on the little house. The windows were out, two pails and «i^ 170 THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. % broom Rtood in the doorway, and a thick smoke was puffing out from the chimney. '* I wonder where Hhe got a stove to make a tire in," said Reuben, as he stood, hands in his pockets, Htariug up at it. Someway, that smoke seemed like a little piec^e of home. He wanted to go in and look around, but the clock in the church-tower just then gave a single, solemn stroke, and he took his hands out of his pockets and ran. Several things not before mentioned had happened during the days that Reuben had been away from home. Among others, it had rained steadily and fast a dcy and a ni^bt ,, taking away every bit of the sleighing; then the ground had frozen and ,ie lake had skimmed over as though it really mennt, if the weather did not change its mind too so^ju, to give the boys a chance at skating ; though as the water was deep, this did not happen except in severe winters. The boys discussed the chances as they worked. They were about equally divided in their opinion of Reuben ; part of them disposed to admire him, and the others to envy what they called his good Vuok. " I'll tell you what it is," young Wesley said, with an emphatic shake of his head, while Reuben was gone to the office, ''it took something more than luck to climb into the back of that carriage and stop that horse. My father says there isn't one boy in ten who would have thought of it at all, and half of REUBEN CONQUERS SAMSON lyi tbera woald have been bo Hcared they couldn't a done it. r think he showed himselt' a plucky fellow, aud 1 Hay, let's all ^ive in and be friendly. I'm ^oin^ t^i ask him to go skating with us to-night." Not a boy approved of this ; some of them were really out of sorts about Ileuben's coming, And Home of them liked to disagree with whatever was pro- posed; BO they argued the question hotly, declaring that Reuben was a little dried-up city dunce, and they would have nothing to do with him. The more they talked, the more detennined whs Wesley to carry out his plan, and the moment Reuben came back he said : " It's freezing hard ; the ice will be prime to- night ; want to go to the lake and have a skate ? " Reuben's eyes glistened his thanks for the invita- tion, but his answer was prompt : "There's two reasons why 1 oan't go; one is, 1 ain't got any skates, and the other is, I never skated a rod in my life." If you could have heard the shout of laughter that greeted this answer, you would have thought that the strangest and most ridiculous thing in life was a boy who could not skate. " Poor little fellow ! " mimicked one in a tone that he might have used to a boy of six. " Didn't his muvver ever let him go on the ice ? It's a shame, BO it is! Poor little boy! we'll stop on the way down and buy him a stick of red-and-white candy, BO we will." These were some ol the sentences those rude and •n THE MAN OF THE HOUSE, doesn't take a fellow poor. Always have silly boys gi^^led oat at Ueuben. His cheeks were pretty red ; no boy likes to be laughed at ; still he answered good-uatnredly : " You can't pity me any more than IVo pitied myself. I s'pose you haven't much notion of how I've wanted a pair of skates ; but the honest truth is, boys, it was a choice between skates or bread, and when it comes to that it long to choose. Fact is, I'm been ever since father died, and I haven't got around to ukates yet ; maybe I shall some day." There was something in this manly little explana- tion that seemed to please Wesley, although he had been laughing as hard as any of them. " Quit bothering him," he said. '' He's a plucky fellow, and a friend of mine. I won't have him abused." Nevertheless, the fun about the skating went on. Not to know how to skate was something so strange to these country-bred boys that it seemed m though they could not get over laughing about it. Presently came Andrew Porter to call on the boys, and he brought news which turned their thoughts mto another channel. " You here yet ! " was his greeting to Reuben, in a tone of mock surprise. ^' I thought you would be gone home to your mother by this time. Had any more scares ? " Then he told his version of the stage-coach story. '' He came up in the four-horse with me, and rode outside till he got so awful scared at the horses that he had to creep mside, and ioi a URVBEN CONQUERS SAMSON •73 feiluw take his place." I think the boys would have been more ready to believe thin story if they had not known about Samson's performance that morning, and lieuben's share in the matter. As it was, know- ing Andrew as well as they did, not a boy believed that he had told the truth. Yet they luughed. Then Andrew produced his news. " Say, boyn, are any of yon going to the rigmagig at the Hall to-night? 1 peeked in there this aHernoon and saw some of the pictures while they was fixing the canvus ; just splendid, they are ! Great big things ! cover all oiu- end of the Hall, and just as natural as life. A hundred pictures I Don't you know about them ? Why, it's the nicest thing that ever come along here ; everybody says so. Of course I'm going. The tickets are only fifty cents." Andrew talked exactly as though fifty-cent pieces grew on the bare branches of the winter trees. 11 the boys had only known how many twists and turns he had had to make, turns that were not even quUe honest in order to get that fifty cents, they might not have envied him so much. As it was, they pasted away and looked disgusted, some of them. Not a boy there who could by any means afford to pay fifty cents to see pictures. Yet they were very fond of pictures All boys are. Andrew went on with his extravagant account of the wonderful ^^ peeps " he had taken that afternoon, and of this and that and the other favoured boy who was going ; ail rich men's sons. Skating might be all well enough, but it was fast losing its oharm Hi 1 lots of people who wouldn't have put all those nice ti inga f i9fl THK MAN OF THE HOUSE, ► :i ! V in tlif little Iiohho for his mother. And T Hiippoa© timt was true. The next day Rouhon wcMit t-o cljiirch in :'- new fashion. His churoh-^oing har to hear the organ play and see the well-dressed people ; but he always folt out of place and uncom- fortable. Very few people sat np there, and those few looked forlorn and fricMidless. Nobody spoke to hira or looked at him, and he gave very little atten- tion to what was going on after the organ was still. The minister may have preached very good serraons ; Reuben did not know. He was busy deciding how he would dress mother and Beth when he became rich, and which pew in the church he would hire, and whether he would drive to church in his carriage. All these plans and many more had Reuben, and church was tue place in which they grew faster than anywhere else. But on this Sabbath he felt like somebody else. In the first place, he had a new overcoat. *' I wonder if Hennie's coat would lit him ! " Mrs. BaiTows had said at the breakfast-table; and her husband, with a startled look on his face, had said that he shouldn't be surprised if it would ; at least it might be tried if she said so. Ailer breakfast it was brought : a gi-ey coat, long and heavy, with many pockets and many handsome buttons. It fitted to a clianu. " It was my little boy's," Mrs. Barrows said, her eyes looking tender ! 50AfK JVKty EXPEKIENCBS FOR REUHRN. i8i ftrifl H)ul. '* We bou;^}it it forbiin only a few montliH belbre he weut- away ; J have never wanted anybody to wear it ; but if it hadn't been for you, perhaps we Hhould have had no little giil in the house thin morning. My Bonnie was a good boy. I think I'll give you his coat." All this made the lump come into Reuben's throat again, and swell larger than ever ; but he resolvcH tiion and there he would never soil Bennie'a over- coat by thinking a mean thought under it. It covered his worn and pittched jacket" to a nicety ; covered even the patch on his pantaloons : and, witli his shoes blacked and his hair combed, he felt, some- way, as though the good tiTnes of his dreams had begun to come, and he must attend to what was now going on, instead of looking for any more. Nev\ things were pouring in on him so fast they needed all his present attention. So he sat up straight in the end of the Barrows' pew, beside the gentleman ; and though it was pretty warm, kept his overcoat on, tightly buttoned to his throut, and listened as well fts he could to the sermon. But it was in the after- noon Sabbath-school that he did his best listening. The class he was in was very unlike any that h< had ever known about : at least, the teacher was \\\ the first place, she was a young and pretty lady Reuben had a fondness for well-dressed people. Ht did not know it — at least did not realize it — but he liked to look at them. He admired his teacher very much. The only other teacher with whom he was acquainted had been a man who read quetftious at ■•4 TUR MAN OF lUR NOVSB. him from a book : questions that he did not under- Bland, n.iul did not care about. This one did not seem to lum to be talking about a Sabbatli-scbool lesson at all. " I wonder if any of you boys know bow to man- age a boat ? " she began, and some of them did, or thougl't tliey did, and others of them had questions to ask ; and before he knew it, Reuben grew very mncli interested, and forgot all about the lesson. " WliJit do you think you would do in a storm ? ** ^lie asked the boy who knew how to manage a boat. And that started talk afresh, and one told what he would do, and another criticized it, and i.t last, when Reuben was appealed to, he had to own that he knew |ust nothing at all about boats. " Well, in any danger," said the teacher. " Sup- pose you are in some place where you know there is danger : you have done the very b it you know, and yet you feel sure you are in great danger, and know of no way to help yourselves ; what would you do next ? " " Why, there wouldn't be anything to do," declared one boy, "only to stand stilJ and let it come." " Or run away from it," said another. " Suppose you couldn't run away from it ? " said tilt teacher ; " suppose it would run away with you ? " ** I'd find a way out somehow," said another. *' But we are supposing that you had tried all your ways out, and were not out, only felt yourselves g'^'b^dig ieeper and deeper into trouble— what then ? Ihink, all of yon. Is there one in the class who has I SOME NRW EXPERIENCES FOR REUBEN 185 • -^ ever bpon in a ^roat irouble, jut of which he could not help Linisi'li" ? ' Quick as thought did Reuben'ti mind go I)aGk to that wild ride with Spunk aud his druuken master, over dark and dangerous roads, with the Hying express train chasing them. He had k»»])t pretty alill until then, an t^iiger listener, with litil.- to say, but, at the memory of his danger and his i <4pt\ h^ drew a long, hulf-shudderiug sigh, and said, almost before he knew it: "I tell you what ii is, I've been there." The boys turned and looked at him, aud the teacher sjniled on him aud questioned : "In danger, my boy •* ' " Yes'm." " And did you know what to do ? " " Some things 1 knew, and did them ; but there came a time that there wasn't anything left to do only hold on, ana that I did with all my might ; but it didn't seem to be doing any good." " And then what ? " " And then," said Reuben, in a slow, grave tone, his face paling over the memory of it all, "I told God about it." " And did He answer ? " " Yes'm," said Reuben, simply. The boys looked at him respectfully, liis face was fluslied now, and he looked down to the tloor. He wasn't used to being talked with about such things. "I am very glad," said the teacher, brightly. " You are better able, perhaps, than any of the rest of us, to understand how Peter felt when he got oal ^1 IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) s l/.. ■m i 1.0 1.1 iM 1112.0 1^ 1.1^ 1.4 Photographic .Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER. N.Y. 14580 (716)872-4503 '^^"^^1%^ %%^ ,. that promise troubled Reuben all the rest of the day ; he could not get away from it, and be could not seem to settle the question. He wished for Beth . things always seemed easier and plainer when he talked them over with Beth. But then he remem- bered that she knew nothing about this matter. Then he looked over at Gracie ; she was a little gill to be sure, bub a very sensible one ; he wondered whether she had ever made such a promise as this, and settled the question. She was reading her Sabbath-school book ; he didn't like to disturb her. KEUBF.N TAKES TiVO PR ISO NEKS. 193 ^1 ^e ■ ■ Pre? enbly she looked up and spoke : " I don't believe I like this book ; it is for grown- ap people.** *• How do yon know ? ** *' Why, it is all about folks beinp Chrhtiana ; telling them how, and why they ought to bo, aud all that." Reuben was astonished ; how strange that Gracie's book should be about the very thing of which he Imd promised to think. " Does it say thare that folks needn't tend to such things until they grow up ? " " Why, no," said Gracie, slowly and thoughtfully. " No, it doesn't ; it says that little bits of children ought to be Christians ; but I don't see how they can." " Why not ? " " Because they can't be sober all the time, and think about dying and going to heaven." " Does it say there that when folks ate Christians they must be sober all the time, and think about dying and going to heaven ? ** " No," said Gracie ; and tL.s time she laughed. "But then grown-up folks who are good do, I suppose." "I don't," said Reuben, positively. "T know some good folks who think about their work, and nbout making nice times for other people, and they look pleasant, and laugh and talk." He thought of Miss Hnnter. " What is bsing a Christian, Uracie ? " This, after waiting for her a little and getting no answer. o r^ 194 THR MAN OF THE HOUSH " Why, it is being good." II shook his head, " No, it isn't ; it is just loving Christ and trying to mind Him." *^ Well, don't you have to be good before you can do that?" " Do you have to be good before yuu can love yoar father and mother ? " " Oh, no ! " she said, laughing again. " But that is different. Why, Reuben, Christian people ar© good people." " Yes, I suppose they grow good ; they would have to, of course, if they tried to mind Jesus ; but they don't have to be good before they can love Uim, according to all that I ever heard of." " No," said Gracie, " of course not ; I didn't mean that. People can't be good, of course, until they get new hearts ; and they won't get them without asking Jesus, and they wouldn't ask Him if they didn't love Him a little, I suppose." Reuben turned towards her eagerly; he knew very little about this matter. He was not sure that anything had been said to him about a new heart ; maybe that was something to attend to before he could decide. " What do you mear* by that ? " he asked her. "By what?" ** By getting a new heart." "Why, I mean just that. Jesus can give folki new hearts, and He does, of course, before they are Christian^." / RRVBRN TAKES TWO PRISONERS. I9S )Ut " How can He ? Hearfcs are inside of us. How can God take them out while we are alive and give as new ones ? " " Why, Reuben Stone ! don't you know what I mean ? Of course our hearts are not taken out of us ! But Jesus puts new thoughts in them ; makes them over in some way, so we can like to do things that before we didn't like to. I don't know how He does it, but I know that is what a new heart means, and you've got to have one before you can be a Christian." " And you get it for the asking ? * " Yes," sard Gracie, confidentially — she had been well taught — " you get it for the asking ; and then you are a great deal happier than you ever were before ; and you like to pray, and read the Bible, and go to church, and all that; and yon aren't afraid to die." " Have you got one ? ** " Why, no ! " and this time she blushed a little as well as laughed. " What a queer boy you are I told you I thought it was for grown-up folks. How can little girls think about such things ? " " But little girls might have to die. The other day when Samson was running away with you, he was going straight toward the lake, and it wasn't frozen over then, and he might have tumbled you in and drowned you." " Don't," said Gracie. "It makes me shiver all over ; " and she hid her face in her hands. Pretty soon she ran away to her mother and told i I y .y I«0 THR MAN OF THE HOVSR. :■( I her that Renben Stone was the queerest boy to tnlk she had ever heard of in her life. Theii Reuben, left alone, went on with his think- ing. Grace hnd certainly given him several reasons why he ought to decide this question. He thought she was a queer little girl to know so many reasons why it would be nice to be a Christian, and know just how to become one, and yet would rather wait until she was grown up. "I don't believe I would," he said to himself; " I'd like to begin now. It's hard work, I suppose. All new things are hard to do, and some old ones ; but it would be nice to feel that you wasn't afraid of Anything. Then there's lots of places where a fellow needs help; and He helped me once. I know a few things. I know I'll have to read the Bible ; I don't like that very well, but I should if Gracie knows what she is talking about, and I got that new heart." Before him on the table lay a little bit of a blue- covered book not more than two inches wide, and hardly three inches long. Reuben stretched ont his hand to it, then drew it back. Hadn't he promised to think of nothing but this question all this day ? Still, it might be something that would help him. He would just glance at it. '* Heavenly Manna " was the name of it. Reuben didn't know the meaning of " manna," but the word " heavenly " seemed to fit the subject, so he looked inside, and found it to be a little book of prayers and, promises, dated to ■nit the days of the year. Of oourse tbe most •f ^' JtKCrBBl^ TrrXBS TkVO PRISONERS, »9» ? I nr.birftl thing in th# ivorld was for him to tarr« to the date of the da^ and look at the verses. Ho could hardly boliove \ 'a eyes, iluw very straiij^'e ! Those wore the versos ; " Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. " A new heart will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you." " There's the prayer, and there's the answer," suid Reuben, thoughtfully. " The thing is now for me to do it." But for some reason that he did not himsi>lf understand, he did not do it. lie know something about Satan, but he did not, after all, know what an enemy he was, nor how frightened he was about this afternoon's work ; nor how anxious he was to keep the boy from deciding this important question once for all. If he could only get him to thinking of something else ! Reuben wondered a good many times in the course of that day, what could be the matter with his mind. It was so determined to think of everything but the question. Hie came back to it again and again, because his promise called him ; but it did not hold him steadily to the work. And so it happened that when the day was gone, and Reuben was ready to lie down in his bed, he said to himself with a sigh : " Well, I've done my best, anyhow. I never knew it was so awful hard to keep thinking of the same thing. Nothing has come of it, either. I don't decide. Why don't I ? It's queer, now, but I can t ;r r p^ !i > 4» IH ||: ! I9S TffE MAN OF THE HOUSE. tell whv I don't. Grncie made me think she waa a fifoosie for not deciding. I suppose I'm a goosie. I wonder vvhat mother thinks ! She must have had this question to decide ever so long ago. Maybe she is at it yet." A feeling came over the boy that he wouldn't like to be so long settling the matter as his mother had been, supposing she was st'U thinking about it. Then why didn't he kneel down then and there and ask Jesus Christ to take him ? He didn't know what kept him from that, but Satan knew very well, and laughed in triumph when the boy went to sleep with- out praying at all. In the middle of the night Reuben opened his eyes, looked about him in the darkness, and woidered what noise that was that he heard. He raised him- self on one elbow and listened. There were certainly people talking. It couldn't be that the family were just getting still for the night, for Reuben knew by the darkness that the moon was gone, and he knew it did not set until after eleven o'clock. It must be about midnight. But the talking was grow- ing more distinct : " Where can that confounded key be, anyhow ? " " He always hangs it by the sink. I've seen him do it fifty times when I've been here with milk." *' Well, he didn't do it the fifty-first time, anyhow, i\i: it ain't here. I've felt all around." " You better uot talk so loud, l^rst, you know, Bomobody will hear us." ^P" REUBEN TAKES TWO PRISONERS. * 191 " Somebody can't. That's Rupert's room over the kitchen, and I told you before we started that he was five miles away, out in the country. Shut that door ! I'm going to risk a match." All this Reuben heard as plainly as though he was u^ihe kitchen. It took him much less time to hear.^^han it has taken to tell it, and all the time he was thinking fast. This was the way it looked to him : Somebody was in the kitchen hunting for the key to the bam. They either meant to steal Samson altogether, or run away with him for a stolen ride that night. Another thing he knew, that he was the last one who had the barn key, and he hung it across the room from the sink, over behind the closet-door. He had come to the sink to hv ig it up, and Hannah had said : " You can't get here now ; put the key on the hook behind the door ; Rupert does sometimes." Ho\^ did those fellows get into the kitchen ? The door was open, for he had heard the order to shut it. He knew something about that, too. He could see himself sitting by the kitchen window, and Hannah asking him if he wasn't going to bed to-night, and saying she was going to lock up now. Then he had said with a sudden start : " 0, Hannah, the kitchen key is upstaii-s in my room! You gave it to me this morning, you know, to unlock the washroom-door, and I carried it up there. I'll run and get it." And Hannah had answered : ifii ! ; • J loo TUR MAN OF THE HOUSM. " No, you needn't. I'll slip the bolt. It's better than the key, anyhow.** But she must have forgotten to slip the bolt. Now, how did he come to be in the room over the kitchen, hearing all this ? Why, Mrs. Barrows had said just before he went »p to bed : ^ "It's bitterly cold to-night. Reuben, I timik I will send you to Rupert's room to sleep. That little north room where I put you is pretty cold, and it is uice and warm in the kitchen chamber. Rupert won't be back until to-morrow night." So Reuben, though he said that he did not mind the cold, and the little north room was splendid, went oflf well pleased to the hired man's comfortable quarters, and rejoiced that Rupert had been given a holiday, and gone into the country to see his mother. That was the way he came to be last at the barn, anu to know about the key. Don't you know how fast people can think ? All this flashed through Reuben's mind with the speed of lightning. And he took time to tliiiik how strange it was that all these little things that seemed to have nothing to do with it at all, should have happened, one after another, so that he knew the^ whole story. More than that, he knew what he meant to try to do. To go down the front stairs and knock at Mr. Barrows' door, and carry on a con- versation with him, would be very likely to warn the thieves, if they were thieves, and they acted like it. Then th y would slip away with whatever they 1 — I" .(--^-i — J REUBEN TAKES TWO PRISONERS, flOl chose to carry, and no one would be the wiser. The family might think he dreamed out the whole story. And perhaps the thieves would come the next night A ad carry out their plans. He would do no such thing as that. He slipped out of bed, and pushed up hia little window. Below him was the roof of the outer kitchen, or shed ; easy enough for a sure-footed boy like Reuben to let himself down to that, and swing off to the coal-box below, and from there to the ground. What then ? Why, then he had the kitchen key in his hand, and the visitors had shut the door. What was to hinder him from slipping around and making tbein prisoners, by turning the key in the lock? The windows he knew were secured by strong shutters, the fastenings of which had a trick of not opening, save for those who knew how to touch just the right spring. Gracie had amused herself for fifteen minutes on Saturday, by watching him try to find the secret of that spring. Reuben thought of that as another little thing that had been planned to fit this night's work. He was out of the window like a cat, not even waiting for clothes ; waiting only to get the key from the little table where he had l>rought it and laid it when he went to the north room for his jacket. Why he brought tl^e key back with him he did not know. He was down now on the frozen ground. It was bitterly cold, and hia little shirt Vfas none of the warmest. He wished he had wrapped himself in a quilt, but that would have hindered his quick, light steps perhaps. HJun £1 i; 1 } »o» THB MAN OF THE HOUSE, bare feet made no sounci on the snow, and in a minute more he stood before the kitchen-door, key in hand. Oonld he find the keyhole ? Would the key slip in easily without noise ! What if the fellows inside should hear him, and should rush to the door and open it, and seize him, and choke him before he oould cry oat? f l'^ '^1 CHAPTER lilX. IN TUB LITTLE HOUSE AT HOMR. " Hark ! ** said a voice inside. " What was that ? " " The wind, I s'pose ; I didn't hear anything. I say, Jim, what a coward you are ! If I'd known you was so Bcarey I'd never have undertaken this job with you." " Well, hurry up, or the undertaking won't do you any good. I don't believe the key is here at all. That horse is a vixen, anyhow. He won't let ua touch him, I don't believe. What ails them matches ? Why don't they bum ? " " I don't believe he will," said Reuben to himself, in answer to their remark about Samson. " So you are after ^im, you scamps. I'm glad I hung the key where it doesn't belong. Now for getting back." The fact was, the little noise one of them had heard was the turning of the key in the lock. It slipped into place as noiselessly as anybody could wish, turned with just the least bit of a click, which the wind might have made in a dozen ways, and Reuben drew it out again, and tiptoed over the snow, climbed to the coal-box, wound his spry young limbs around the gutter-pipe, scuttled over the shed roof, and was back in his room again in a jifly. Moving I •04 THE MAN OF THE ffOUSR. very softly still, not waiting for clothes even yet, bat wrapping himself in the grand overcoat that had kept him warm all day, he opened the hall-door, and felt his way down the hall to the front staiis, down those stairs and another hall, carefully feeling his way, and knocking softly at laft at wha^ he guessed was Mr. Barrows* room. There was no answer, and he had to knock a little louder. " Halloo ! " came at last from inside. " Who's there ? What's the matter ? " " It's me," said Reuben, in a soft whisper. "Won't you please to let me in ? I want to speak to you ? " A few words of talk inside, a little waiting, and then Mr. Barrows threw open the door. " What's up, my boy ? Are you sick ? " "No, sir," said Reuben, stepping inside and quietly closing the door ; " but there's somebody in the house." " Oh, no," said Mr. Barro\/8 ; " I guess not. You've been dreaming and got frightened." And Reuben knew by the sound of his voice that he was smiling. "No, sir," said Reuben. "It's them that are scared, I guess, or will be pretty soon. I don't think the) know yet. They're in the kitchen, sir, hunting for the bam key ; and I've locked 'em up, only they don't know it." "In the kitchen! Who aro? YouVe locked Ihem up I Are you talking in your sleep ? ** And Mr. Barrows fumbled for his matches, touched i I iN THE LITTLE HOUsR AT HO MB. •OJ the gas jet, and took a look at the boy done np in an overcoat, and with bare feet and legs. " No, sir," said Reuben again ; and he giggled in spite of himself. He knew he looked funny. " It's quite a long story, sir. I heard 'em. I know they are there, and I don't quite see how they can get out until you or I let 'em. There's the key. They waked me up talking over their plans, and I knew I had the kitchen key, so I slipped down the roof and locked the door. They thought I was the wind, and kept on hunting for the bam key." A more astonished-looking man than Mr. Barrowi it would be hard to find. There was much about the story that he did not understand, but it was plain to be seen that Beuben was wide awake, and knew what he was talking about. So, without more ado, Ml. Barrows hurriedly dressed himself, Beuben quietly stepping into the hall. " Better go upstairs, my boy," Mr, Barrows said as he passed him. " You have done your share ; and if the scamps are young fellows, as I suspect, it will be better for you not to appear." " 111 wait here," said Beuben, taking f\ seat in the halL Mr. Barrows went on through the hall, through the dining-room, stopping there to turn on the gas, which, when the door was opened, would send a flood of light into the kitchen. Then he quietly opened the door, and said : " Well, boys, good morning ! " and took a seat. Beuben^ listening, thought he would give almosl ,^t- u '^ m6 TffS MAN OF THE HO VSR. anything to see their faces just then. ITe heard their smothered exclamations of dismay and terror, and their dash for the door, which, of conrse, was locked, to their utter confusion. Just what passed in that kitchen after that Reuben does not know to this day. He heard the voices, low and steady, but could catch no word. By-and-by he heard the key turn in the lock, heard Mr. Barrows say " Good-by ! " and then presently he came back to the hall. " You have done a grand night's work, my boy," he said, placing his hand on Reuben's head ; " one that you can be glad about for ever. Those fellows meant to take Samson and have an all-night frolic. They would l>ave ruined him, without doubt, but they would have done worse than that. Samson is a good horse when people know how to manage him, and a bad one when they don't They would have taken the whip to him, and then he would have been un- manageable at once, and the probability is they would have been killed. Now come where it is warm, and let me hear the whole story of how you found them out." And he led the way to the sitting-room. "I don't suppose they meant to steal t" Reuben said in an inquiring tone. "I don't suppose they did," said Mr. Barrows. " At least they didn't call it that ; and yet you see they were preparing to steal the use of my horse ; and they stole the last hours of the Sabbath-day for their own pleasure. In point of fact, they were thieves, the wortt kind of thieves: stealing from / iN THE LITTLE HOUSE AT HOME. *&/ •e God. People often fail to call thingH by their right namea. Is your question decided yet, luy boy ?" "No, sir," said Reuben, looking do>vu. And then Mr. Barrows caught sight of his bare feet, and sent him to bed with directions to sleep as late as he could in the moruiug. But when Reuben had tucked himself into bed again, it seemed to him that his eyes were wider open than they had ever been before. He went o\ er every little circumstance connected with the night, and wondered for the twentieth time who those fellows could be. He thought of all the little things that had happened beforehand to make it possible for him to prevent the mischief. " Exactly as though somebody who knew all about what was going to happen, had planned all the other things and made them fit," he said. And then he gave a little start and his eyes seemed to grow bigger as he remembered that God knew about all things before they came to pass. Another thought made his cheeks grow red. Mr. Barrows had called the fellows thieves, and said they stole from God. Had not his teacher said that day that he belonged to God ? Had he not stolen himself from God, and used his time and his strength as he pleased ? Was it possible that he, Reuben Watson Stone, was a thief ? " I'll give myself back to Him," he said, decidedly " I'll never steal another hour. I'll decide the ques- tion now, this minute. And I'll tell Him io, and »sk Him to take me." \ lot THE MAN OF THE liOUUfC. liu A second time on that cold winter night did Reuben Stone hop out of his warm bed. This time it was to get on his knees. In the little house at home, things were not get- ting on any too well during Reuben's absence. The mother was secretly very much astonished over the number of things that one small boy could do to make the days pass more easily. She had not known before just what a help and comfort her " man of the house " was. But missing him was not the only trouble. Work suddenly grow very srarce. Whtllier all the boys iu the world were supplied with shirts, Mrs. Stone did not know. She only knew that when she Cftri led t))B last bundle back, a thing she was not used to doing — it was two years since Reuben had allowed ber to carry any bundles through the streets — the ioreman told her the package tu cany home would be lighter ; that he had only a very small oue ; work was scarce, and it had been as much as they could do to divide it among their faithful workers so as to give all some. This made Mrs. Stone look very grave. It was as much as they could do to get along when she sewed every minute ; and the very little that Reuben had been able to earn — 30 little that she had not supposed she could miss it, was really missed a great de»i. She v/alked home very slowly, saving the five cents that it would have cost to ride part of the long way in the street-carj and tried to contrive some way to save money, or to earn a little more. To make matters worse, mJ K K kn , f^tkitiU l ^ IN THE LIT r IF. HOVSK AT NOAtS. what did Beth do hnt meet lier at the door with news : "O, irotlier the a;^'(mt has been here and given notice that the rent on this bousf* will be raised a whole dollar tho first of next month ! " " A whole dollar ! " repeated Mrs. Stone. " Then we must starve," And then she did what Beth had never seen her do befor(3j she «jat down in the little sewing-chair behind the stove and cried. This was only two days sifter Ken ben went away. From that time mother and daughter scrimped ar)d pinched, both with coal and potatoes, and trievi in every possible way tx> save w penny. Miss Hunter was just as good as she ocald be, and had invited them twic^e to dinner, and once to tea, but the second time Mrs. Stone would not fjo. " We can't invite her back," she said grimly to Betii ; " and she does it out of charity, anyhow. I ain't used to charity. You can ^o if you want to, child; but her nice white bread would choke me. But Beth wouldn't go without her mother, not even to save an evening's meal. So it was not much that Miss Hunter conld do for them. In fact, she conld not find out how much they needed doing for, though she suspected, for Beth's eyes were often red. She knew, too, that work had failed, but that was no more than hw^ happened to her, skilled workwoman that shf» was She hhed no tears over it for two reasons : In the tirRi ■10 THE MAN OF THJR HOVStL. l^ilHoe, nhe had a anug little bit of money 'aid aside for f utuie use ; aud, in the next place, it gavt- Imr time to make over the blue merino int<; a perfect iit for Beth. She got the exact measure by offering to cut out a calico for her that thu mother was making out of hers. " There's that ten dollars, mother," reminded Beth as they sat together in the evening, talking drearily about the future. " Yes," said Mrs. Stone, but she spoke gloomily. She didn't often feel so dreary, but it seemed a dreadful thing to have work fail her, aud rent raised the same week. It was Sunday evening, and they had passed a dreary day. A good deal of it had been ■pent in bed. To be sure, Beth went to Sum lay- school with Miss Hunter, and in hci new calico, and lovely fur cape and hood, looked as neat as wax. Miss Hunter would have liked her to wear the bKie merino, but she had not found a good excuse for giving it to her yet. She was waiting for Reuben to come back to make a smooth road for so nice a present. "If I'd known about her birthday, and had it ready, I might have given it to her then," she said, meditatively. "But then, dear me! I wasn't ac- quainted with them then. Besides, if I had been, I wouldn't have found out it was* her birthday. It is so queer in the little chick to talk about Reuben's birthday, when she was bom herself the same day and hour. It shows what »n unaeiiiith little thing she ia." IN run TfTTLE HOUSE AT HO MS Iff It After Suiuluv-fjchool, which Beth had not liked hm well aH ReubtMi did his (she had sat beside two little girls who whispered uiid giggled over the queeraess of wearing fur hoods iind capes and calico dresses), she found the fire out and lier mother in bed. " It went out," the mother said, raising herself to apeak to the little girl ; " and I thought 1 would let it go until it was time to get something to eat. It would save coal, and the coal is getting very low. Come and lie down and take a nap." But Beth had slept well all night, and her eyes were wide open. The last thing she wanted to do was to take a nap. She thought of the glimpse she had had into Mis» Hunter's cheery room, and a great longing came to her to sit down inside, acd read her Snbbath-school book. " Mother," she said, " couldn't 1 go into Miss Hunter's room ? She asked me to come ; and it is so nice and warm in there ! " But the mother answered her sharply : " No, child, no ! Don't beg fire until you have to. Come and lie down." So Beth, with a sigh, had laid away her hood and cape, and slipped under the quilts beside her mother, and lay very still so that the mother could sleep, but did no sleeping herself, and wished the dreary day was done, and that Reuben was at home again. It seemed at least a month since he went away. So this evening they sat drearily over the dying coals, bud Beth reminded her mother of Reuben's ten dollarf^. flIS THE MAN OF THE fiUUSB. \ :{ " Yes," the mother had said. " 1 wanted to keep that to buy yon and Reuben some spring clothes, i don't know huw you are to get along without soiah. He is jast in rags, and he outgrew every single thing he had last summer ; but it will have to go, of courso. for coal and rent : and then, how long will it last r Ton dollars isn't a fortune, I tell you. If 1 don't get more work this week, I shall have to spond some of it right away ; for these shirts won't buy potatoes and salt enough to last us through the week." "Mother," said Beth, after another gloomy silenoe, " don't you truly think anything at all will come of Reuben's going out there to stay a week ? " The mother gave a provoked little " Humph ! " as a beginnirg to her answer. " Of course not! What oould come of it ? He is nothing but a child. Small for his age, too. I don't see what possessed me to let him go oflf like that. I've had my pay for it. I haven't slept two good hours a night since he has been away. If he onl}'^ g.'ts home safe, without learning any dreadful habits, I shall be iatisfied. It was a wild idea to thfiik of our moving away out there. Where would we get the money to move ? And just as though anybody would let us have a house wi^ -lOut paying for it beforehand ! " " But the man said we could earn it," persisted Beth. " Oh, yf ;. ; the man said a greai many things. He took a fancy to Keuben, and felt good-natured just then, and thought he would be doing him a kindness iio let him take a little journey ; and h» knew well ir ''\i „ IN I HE UTTIR HOUSE AT HOM? »I3 &tH finou^li, 1 suppose, that Reuben would Hnd out he couldn't do tlu* work, and would come home satisfied. I hope he will. 1 never want him to go out of my sight again." Poor Beth siijhed, and proceeded to covering the coals and making ready for bed as her mother directed. But for all that talk, she couldn't quite get over her faith in Reuben's journey, and her belief that something would come of it. It was high time for something to come ; for on Monday morning the shi.-ts were carried home, and, behold, there was not one to carry back again. " Dreadful slack times ! " the foremp^n said, and he Bpoke as though he was really very sorry. " We've never seen tighter times since we've been in the business. Had to turn away a good many of our hands tliree weeks ago. We've hung on to our best ones as long aa we could. And you shall have work again as soon as we have it, maybe in three or four weeks, maybe not so soon. The pinch won't last long : it never doen. Keep up a stout heart." Yes; but on what? Three or four weeks was time enough to starve and to freeze. Mrs. Stone did not really e?:;ject to do either. She believed she could beg enough to save her from death. She believed that cheery Miss Hunter, who had already been so very good to them, would find some way to keep them from starving. Why, for the matter of that, there was the ten-dollar gold piece, and the rent not due yet for a week. A good many things might hap- pen in a week. But Mrs. Stone waa not in the mood ii :l 1. jii , au THE MAN OF THE HOUSE to cheer herself without any hope of the future. It all looked as dark as night to her. She did not cry again ; but she went around her room with so sad a face that Beth cried whenever she looked at it. Once the child ventured a suggestion : " Mother, Reuben said he would come on the first train. He will be here by dinner-tirae. Won't he be rea/ hungry ? " " I suppose so ; but we must give him some of the baked potatoes and bread. I don't dare to spend a cent for butter now, or meat. We must save for the rent, child, or we'll be turred out into the street. This is a strange time to raise poor folks* rent." It was just at that moment that the train which was bringing Reuben home, aUiamed in at tiie dei»>dt three miles away. I CHAPTER XX. 4 GENERAL SUXPRISR. Reuben jumped from the platform just a.^ the engine gave its final yell. His cheeks were red as roses, and his eyes were bright. He had been gone a whole week, and what a week it had been ! He looked taller and larger in every way than the boy who left that depot a week before. Not that he had grown so very much, but it is wonderful how tnucb larger ^ thick, heavily lined, well-fitting overcoat, buttoned up to the chin, makes a boy look. He had Mis8 li unter's flowered satchel on his arm ; it was full, too — he couldn't imagine of what. " Some lunch for you," Mrs. Barrows had said, and smiled as she gave the heavy satchel into his keeping. But the boy had not needed a lunch for a two hours' ride, and had concluded not to open the satchel until he got home. He signalled a down town street-car the first thing, and took his seat : he was in too much of a hurry to walk ; and besides, the satchel was wonderfully heavy. He took out his pijcket-book to pick ont live pennies for the fare ; and hie 1'ho<.' grew redder and his eyes shone brighU'r, and Beth opened it, and stood a moment and stared, and said, " Mother ! " and then said, " Oh, oh ! " and put both arms around the young man's neck. " I thought you were a messenger boy ; I was 90 geared because of your coat," she explained, breath- lessly. " Why, Reuben, where did you get your coat ? 0, mother, isn't it splewdid ? " And the mother who had never really hoped to see her son in an3^hing so fine, and warm, and beautifully fitting, could not help laughing a little too. " You are just in time for dinner," explained Heth ; '^ but 1 hope you are not awful hungry ; or no — II IS I i; li ■ w imp I I 1 III TWi^ MAN OF THE HOOSE. yes, I hope you are, dreadful hnngry, because then juH. potatoes will taHte good ; we haven't a speck of meat." " I don't want meat," said Reuben, unbuttoning his coat ; *^ 1 had steak Tor breakfast, plenty of it ; but then maybe T've got some in my lunch. Ton pitch into the luucb, Beth, and see if there is something good foj dinner." Whei^eapon he un- locked Mius Hunter's satchel, and Beth began to draw out the treasures, with little screamfi of satis- faction over them. "Mother, here is a whole chicken, put in for Reuben's lunch ! And oh, here is a pie, two pies tied together, just slipped in whole, on the pie-plates I And here is a loaf of bread. O, mother, mother ! here ifl a cupful of the sweetest-smelling butter you ever saw ! " '^ T guess it w ! '' said Reuben, in intense satis- faction , '^ their butter tastes just like the roses that you smell as you pass the greenhouse on North Street. I'm awful glad they sent you some." It was a splendid dinner that they at last sat down to ; the potatoes were done to a nicety, and the cold chicken, and pie, and cheese and butter were a little better than any the^; had ever tasted before. " I declare, we ought to have Miss Hunter in, to get some of these good things ! " the mother said. But Beth explained that aha was up in mother Perkins' room, making her some tea and toast ; she Baw her go* T A GENERAL SURPRISE S19 Then commenced Reuben : " O, mother, do you suppose Miss Hunter will move with us ? She could get ever so much more work there, and better wages, a good deal better; Mr. Barrows told me to tell her so, and to urge her to come. He said now was her time to get in with some of the best." Beth looked up quickly at her mother, to see how she took this matter-of-course way of speaking ctf moving, and turned to the man of the house with her startling bit of news : " O, Reuben, don't you think they have raised the rent of this house one whole dollar a month ! " " Raised the rent ! " said Reuben, in great con- tempt ; " I hope they will get it, or else I hope they won't. Anyhow, I know they won't from us. But I do wish Miss Hunter would go with us : there is a room in the house that would be just right for her." " Reuben," said Beth, the colour coming and going on her face, " do you really and truly mean you think we are going to move ? " " Why, of course we are going to move. Haven't 1 been at work all the week getting things ready ? Mother, could you go this week, do you think ? There's lots of work there waiting ; and Mr. Barrows needs me ; and if they've raised the house rent here, the sooner we get out the better." Mrs. Stone looked bewildered ; she looked as though she didn't know in the least what to say to her eager- faced boy and waiting girl. She glanced from one to ait niF. MAN OF THF ffOfTS/' th^^ uther a moment in a puzuleii way ; then nhe liiughed. !t was mora than a week since Beth had Been her laugh. " Reuben," she said, " I believe you are forty instead of ten. Do you really suppose we could get work right along if we were to move, and get a place to live in, and manage to pay the rent, and all that ? " " Why, mother, I know we could," he said, his bright eyes sparkling. " And I've seen the house we are to live in ; fact is, I've rented it, and had it cleaned and all ; and there is work waiting for all of us. The queerest little machines, Beth, you ever saw iu your life! Brass, you know, with rows of tiuy little teeth for you to put your needle through ! '* '' Put a needle through brass ! " said bewildered Beth ; and then Reuben laughed, and said he couldn't explain, but she would see for herself in a few days. And then he began at his mother again about the moving, and with advice for her to leave the stove behind. Mr. Barrows advised it. " Horrid old thing ! " said Beth, bestowing glances of hatred on it ; "I should be too happy to go away and leave it behind. Reuben, you can't think how hateful it has acted since you've been gone ; twice as hateful as it does with you." " I'll fix it to-morrow morning," said Iteuben, nodding his head at it ; " but, mother, don't you think it would be best to sell it for old iron ? That A GF.NEFAl SVRPRISR 2il ifi what Mr. Barrows adviHed ; and, well, ti> tell you the truth — 1 wa» .voiug to keep that for a surprise — he gave me a stove to use in the place of it ; out* that goes better than that ! " " He gavt you a stove ! ** said bewildered Mrs, Stone. " Yes, he did," said Reuben, his eyos dancing ; he concluded that there were surprises enough left without that one. To tell yon all the talk, and all the plans that there were made in the Stone family during the rest of that day, would make a book. Before three o'clock in the afternoon, Mrs. Stone was saying to Herself : " If we should move, we ought to let the agent of this house know ; " and by evening she said : " W^ ought to let Mrs. Bemus know about this house ; 1 guess she would like to rent it." Then Beth and Reuben looked at each other and laughed; that showed them that their mother was decided to move. I must tell you, though, of one thing. " I don't know how we would ever get money enough together to buy what will have to be bought, and get ourselves ready ! " This was one of Mrs. Stone's objections. It made Reuben whisk out his pocket-book, over which Beth exclaimed in delight. " IVe got some moving money here," he explained. " It isn't a present, mother, Mr. Barrows said so ; ae said it was rightly mine, because I had saved nim .^a»»*?^ il m TITE MAN OF THE HOUSE. a \goo(\ d«>al. I don't know how much there is ; he aealed it up, and told me I had better not open it ou the carH. !iut he aaid I would need it to move my family." Then he bi )ke the seal. Out came the bills — four of them, Reuben's breath began to come quick, and the fluHh on his face grew brighter. One bill was u five. What if some of the others should be ! " If there should be as much as fifteen dollars here," he said, stopping and looking at his mother, " what would you say ? " " I'd say tho t yon must have worked most un- common fast for a boy of ten," she answered, and her tone was not altogether one of pleasure. She did not fancy folks taking pity on them and giving them money, Reuben laughed^ and looked down at his money ; he had a story to tell that he fancied would satisfy his mother, even if there should be fifteen dollars. But then he began to act very strangely. He gave such a sudden jump in his chair that Beth held to the side of the rickety table. Then he leaned his head on the table and actually burst into tears. " Why, Reuben Watson Stone ! " said Beth, " what on earth is the matter ? " ^' My dear boy ! " said his mother ; and she felt almost frightened, it was sach a strange thing to see Reuben cry. He come around to his mother and buried hif» head in her lap ', but not until he had dropped thft A GENERAL SURPRISE. taj four billR OD the table before her, and she saw that there were two fiveH and two twenties. Filly dollars ! I'm 8upe T wouldn't like to try to describe to yon the commotion there was in that family for a little while. Mrs. Stone was perfectly bewildered ; to give a boy ten, or even fifteen dollars for a week's work, because a rich man felt sorry for him and thought he had a great burden to carry, would be nnusual enough ; but whoever heard of one giving a ten- year-old boy fifty dollars ! She thought for a few moments that there was some wicked plot to ruin her boy, and almost expected to see a policeman appear and arrest him on a charge of stealing. But Reuben's tears did not last long, lie had been taken by surprise, and following hard on so much excitement, had forgotten his dignity, and cried it out with his head in his mother's lap. Now he brushed back his hair from his hot fore- head, wiped away all traces of tears, and told his remarkable story, beginning with the ride behind Samson, and the paper worth a thousand dollars that tried to blow away and didn't, and ending with the story of the locked kitchen-door and the two boys who were prisoners. It was a long story, and very well told. The mother who, when it began, was all ready to resent the fifty dollars almost as an insult offered to their honest poverty, by the time it was finished declared that she didn't know as fifty dollars was any too much to show his gratitude TFfP MAN OF THF fTOUSR. An for rlu> boy.s. " llow'll I sliow them if I haven't got em ? " he asked at last, a glimmer of a smile on his face. He knew that I^Iiss Mason did not mean that sort of c «14 THE MAN OF TrfF HOUSR. " Bft^in at the biggest thing of thera all and oome on down, and tell me all about it." " The biggest thing thet ever happened to me in my life," said Reuben, speaking slowly and gravt»ly, " Ib that IVe got to be a soldier, and have «,'ot a Captain, and wear His colours, and am bound to obey Hira, just exactly, every time." " Reuben, what in the world ave you talking about? "said Beth, and she dr()])ped her book on the floor and came and sat on the edge of the chair that was in front of Reuben's own, and stared at him, ast,onishment in her voice, and astonishment in her face. "Why," said Reuben, fidgeting a little, "that's it, you see ; I don't know how to teli you. It's a long story, that is, it's long to think it, but when you come to tell it there doesn't seem to be much that a fellow can tell. Look here, Beth, suppose you were walking down this road " — and Reuben arose and took careful steps on the pretty flowers in the carpet, towards the west window — " and you should meet somebody who said to you, *I want you to turn right square around and go the other way,* and you should make up your mind to do it, don't you see how difterent everything would be right away ? " Whereupon Reuben turned and walked briskly towards the east window. Beth watched him wonderingly. " I should want to be pretty sure who was talking to me, and what he wanted me to turn around fur, SHUm^ YOUR COLOURS. m in be ftiid what good it would do, anyway, before 1 should make up iny mind to do any such thing," she said at last, seeing that Reuben soeraed to be waiting for her to spealc. " Exactly," he daid, coming back to his chair. " Well, the fact is, 1 found out that the One who met me wanted to do the best thing for me all the while, and knew what waa the best, and viuidt me, in the first place, and had a right to direct me which way to go; and I just turned around and made up my mind to follow Him the rest of my Ufe." " It must be you mean that you are a Christian ! " Reuben always remembered the great astonish- ment in Beth's voice as she spoke those words. " I suppose I am," he said gravely — he had not put it into words before — " if a Christian means one who has made up his mind to follow the L( rd Jesus Christ, take Him for Captain, you knovr, vvliy, I'm one, sure." " That is what it means," said Beth, nodding her head. '^ Miss Hunter told me so ; she told me a good deal about it ; she wanted me to go that same way, but I didn't think I wanted to do that ; I didn't want to leave you behind ; I wanted to keep right along with you and not go anywhere at all that yon didn't ; and now you've gone and left me ! " And Beth dropped her head on her arm and began to cry softly. " 0, Beth, 1 haven't ! " he declared, eagerly ; " I'v« Qome back for you, don't you see ? That's what f «3« THF MAN OF 7HR ffOU-^E. f. am trying to tell you, I want you along. I oonldn't) be a soldier without yon ! we've alwayi been together Girls can be soldiers in this army just aa well as boys ; it's different from any otht\r army. T say, Beth, won't you come right along ? That'n the very reason I wanted to tell you about it to-night." Beth had already dried her tears aud was listening. " What did you mean al:)0ut hearing somebi^xly speak to you and ask you to turn around, and all that ? I don't understand what you mean." So Reuben began at the story of that midnight ride, part of which she already knew, and told hor about the terror, and the horror, and the prayer, and the quiet that came to him, and the sense of somebody leading him, and he following just where the Somebody led ; and from that he jumped to the experiences of but the Sabbath-day before; the lesson, and the teacher's question, and her talk with him, and his promise, and what hard work he had to keep it, and how Grace Barrows helped him along without knowing it, and how, finally, after midnight, he knelt down and settled it, and how he had been sure ever since of the pres^ioe and help of hi* Leader. Then he told how Miss Mason had re- minded him that very day to be sure and show his colours. " I wanted to show you, Beth, the first thing, ana ask you to put them on." It had been quite a long story ; the twilight faded one entirely while he talked and left the room dark SHOIV YOUR COLOURS, *37 ^li US hut for th« ^'lf)W of thfi fireliv^ht. Beth had listeruMl in silence, but with the utmost attention. She drew ft long sigh when he closed, and if Reuben oonld hare seen her face it would have told him that she felt herRelf left behind. *' V'ou've been converted," she said at last. "Have I?" said Reuben; "I don't know. I don't even know what the word means." *' I do. Miss Hunter told me ; she said there wore two sides to it ; God had one side, and folks the other. God called to people, askod them to belo7ig, you know, just as yon heard Him ask you — that is Hirf side. Then they said either * I will,' or ' I won't,' and that's their side ; and she said even Ood couldn't do anything for them ao long as they said ' I won't,' because He had promised Himself when He made them that they should have the right to decide things for themselves, and that was their side. Then she said just as soon as they made up their minds to say ' I will,' He put new feelings into their hearts, so that they wanted to do right, where before they hadn't cared, or hadn't thought anything about it ; and all at once they knew that the thing they wanted most was to follow the Lord Jesus, and please Him, and she said that new feeling in their hearts was called being converted, and there wasn't anybody else who could do it only just God ; and I know yon have been converted." ** Well," said Reuben, after a very thoughtful silence, " I never heard it explained before, but it Boundf like Miss Mason's talk, Idts right in, and I 'i^- ta^ THR MAN OF THE ffOUSK. ^tit^Mu it \H all true. I've often womiere ( 340 TffM MAN OF THE HOUSE. snd'leriiy turned in a new channel, " Jo folks that sign » temperance pledge have to stop drinking cider ? " "Well, now, m;7 boy, that depends on the kind of [/ledge they sign ; there are some wishy-washy pledges I've seen, that left cidu- out, but why they should is more than I can understand. Why ? Was that in your Sunday-school lesson ? " " No'm," said Reuben, with a little laugh, " not oxactly, but something came up about pledges, and promises, and we got on to it somehow, and one of the boys said that cider belonged in the pledge, and another boy said it didn't; he said he had been a member of a temperance society for two years, and that he drank as much cider as he wanted ; and they had quite a talk about it." " And what did the teacher say ? " *' Well, she didn't say a great deal about it ; I guess ^e thought it wasn't in the lesson, and she wanted to get the boys to tend to that ; but I don't believe che thinks much of cider." ' 1*11 warrant she doesn*fc ; not if she is a good teacher, and knows much about boys. Why, Reuben, one of the worst drunkards I ever knew, learned to drink by sucking cider out of his father's barrel, through a straw ! The idea of leaving it out of a oledje^ when those who know say that it will intoxicate qu:'«ker than beer ! " " One boy said that there was a great difference in cider; that he thought every pledge meant you mustn't touch hard cider, but that new cider such an he drank, wouldn't hurt a cat." HE TAKES A Nf.W STEP. i4t re )U " No more it wouldn't," said Miss Hunter, dryly. ' because a cat knows enough not to touch it. Ill tell you what I think about sweet cider ; I think it is just a snare of Satan ; time and again Le has got hold of a boy by making him so fond of sweet cider that he couldn't let it alone ; and he knows it. Satan is real sharp, I tell you. Then there's another thing, Reuben : you must ask your boy who drinks as much sweet cider as he wants, if he has studied the thing up, and knows just when it changes, so that there is a little bit of alcohol in it. The fact is, that change comes a great deal sooner than most folks think. I've heard them that know say that Bweet cider was really the flattest tasting stuff in the world ; and that nobody liked it until the change had begun in it that makes alcohol. I should think that was stepping pretty neai the edge of a promise, even if my pledge didn't say anything about sweet cider." "I should think co too," declared Reuben. "I hadn't thought about it before, and I couldn't tell which side I was on ; but I guoss I'll let cider alone." " Why, Reuben, you don't belong to any temper- »n ije society ? " This from Beuu, in an inquiring tone. " No ; out I'm going to. There's a fellow in the shop going to get all the signers he can to the pledge, and I told him to-day I'd sign the first thing to-morrow." '* That's right!" was Miss Hunter's hearty com- niondation. " And is it a cider pledge ? If it isn \ t'd have another line added and poke it in soi^ehow ; # i i »42 r//A AUy CF THE HOUSE. for I tell you it works more mischief to youn^' folk^ than all the other drinks put together. I've wjitrhen it. Boys, and girls too, that have been brought up to do right, and be what they called temperance people, go on drinking their cider year after year, and every year they like it a little harder, though they don't say so: all they say is, 'Seems tome this cider tastes kind of flat ; it's a little too new ; it wants to stand awhile.' And the first thing they know, the harder it is the better they like it ; and they like it so well they can't let it alone. Some of them do, you know ; it doesn't affect everybody that way, of course ; if it did, people would see the danger easier. But how are you going to know but you will be the very one to learn to like it too well?" " And even if you don't, maybe the boy that stands next you will be the one to, and maybe he would let it alone if you would." This was Reuben's comment. " Exactly so, my boy ; do you see that cider is put into the pledge that you sign." " I will," said Reuben. Then suddenly Mrs. Stone started a now train of thought : " There is something about this room makes* me think of my old home : I can't tell what it is nor where it is, but the minute I get into it I think of the house we used to live in when I was a little girl, and especially the sitting-room where we used to sit on Sundays." «* Weil, now," said Mis« Hunter, with hearty RE TARES A NEW STEP. «43 of me nor sympathy in her voice, " isn't that pleasant ? I do think it is so nice to have something to remind us of our childhood. You must have had a real nice home if this reminds you of it, for I do think this is about as pleasant a room as I ever saw. And what did you used to do Sunday nights when the twilight was coming on ? " Both Beuben and Beth turned interested faces on their mother, and waited for her answer ; they knew very little about her old home ; she had never seemed fond of talking about it. " Oh, we used to sing," she said, speaking slowly, as if it were hard work to go back to that long ago past. ^' There was quite a family of us once, and we were all singers : Reuben and Kite were first- rate singers — ^they were the two youngest — and father used to say they could earn their living with their voices ; but they didn't need to earn a living . they both died before they found out what a hard thing it was to live. Father had enough and to spare in those days." And then Mrs. Stone gav^ the sort of weary sigh that Reuben and Beth were well acquainted with. Miss Hunter didn't want her to sigh. " So they went to heaven to sing ? " she said briskly, almost gaily. " WeU, there's a pleasant side to that to look back on, I'm sure. Those things most always seem so sad when they first come. I've had them when it seemed to me I never in the world could feel it was for the beat ' I'll believe it,' says I, 'because the Lord says so/ and I used to tell Him that on my knees ; ' but as for realizing it, I !■ '44 THE MAN OF THR ROUSR. don't think I ever can — not till I get to heaven.' And if you'll believe it, I've gone to Him on my knees and told Him since, that I saw it as plain aa day about those very things ; they were best ! Well, I suppose, after the singing was done, somebody used to get out the old Bible and read, and then the father prayed : wasn't that the way of it ? " Mrs. Stone caught her breath hard for a moment, then, in a lowered voice, said : " Yes, it was ; my old father never used to neglect that." There they were, right back to the subject that had put F.odben in such a whirl ! • This was great news to him ; he had never heard so much about his grandfather before. Then his mother used to belong to a home where the Bible was read every Sunday evening, at least. He wondered if it was on other evenings ; he wished he knew, but he did not like to ask his mother. At this point in his thoughts his eye caught Beth's ; she nodded her head, and her face said almost as plainly as words could have done : "I told you so; grandfather was a Christian, you see, and he read in the Bible and prayed." " But then he was a man," said Reuben to him- self. "Well, what of that?" asked that other self, who often in these days held conversations with him. " So will you be a man if you live long enough ; and you are the only man there is to this house now. You have to help pay the rent, and buy the coal, I HB TAKES A NEW STEF, •45 and do «ver so many thiiif^s now that you wouldn't if you had a father. As likely as not you would Ijo in school instead of working hard every day to support your family; why should you wait until you get to be a man before you read in the Bible and pray in your family, any more than you waited until then to do other things ? " *' Mother might not like it," said Reuben. " You will never know till you ask her," said the other self: "and you know you don't believe but what she will like it, or at least that she won't find any fault with it ; she hardly ever finds fault with anything that you do." " Maybe I'll do it next Sunday," said Reuben. " I should think it would be a great deal more sensible to do it now," said his other self ; " things don't grow easy by waiting ; you know that, for you've tried it. In fact, this first Sunday in a new home, when everything is beginning over new in your family, is just the easiest time you will ever have. If I were you, I'd do it this very night. Your mother doesn't know, to be sure, that you have become a soldier, but Beth does, and you see what she expects of yon ; and your mother might as well hear it now as at any time. You wondered how you should ever have a chance to show your colours ; are you going to shirk the very first chance ? " But at this point Reuben gave up the sort of thinking which consists in just holding an argument with one half of yourself against the other half, mid set himself to right down eai-nest thinking. 4 140 THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. The talk went on in the room, but he did not hear it. He had an important question to settle. It seemed strange to him .that Beth, who was not a soldier at all, had been the one to rouse him to duty, and even point the way ; but the more he thought about it, the more sure he felt that she was right, and that here waa a chance to stand by his colours. It seemed like very hard work to him ; you boys who have been in the habit of reading a few verses in the Bible with your mother, and then kneeling with her in prayer every night and morning of your lives, will probably never be able to under- stand how hard it was. But there was this about Reuben that made every one who knew him believe in him, and believe that he would make a man to be trusted. When he saw a plain duty he never shirked it because it was hard. He did not mean to shirk this one. "Mother," he eaid, breaking into the midst of something that Beth was saying, being so intent on what he was about to say, that he had not he«rd Beth at all, and the earnestness sounded so plainly in his voice, that his mother turned toward him an ex- pectant face, and waited : " ?iIother, IVe had some- thing to tell you for a week, but I haven't got it told. I've becoiue a soldier, and I've got to stand by the colours all the time." " A soldier ! " repeated Mrs. Stone, in a kind of dismayed voice. This boy of hers had so astonished her lately that sJie was preparetl for almost anything. Had lie told '.\ HE TAKES A NEW STEP. »47 her there was war with the Indians, and he must march away the next moniiug, 1 don't know that she would have been much more bewildered than she was now. It was plain that she did not understand him any better than Beth had, and it was equally plain that Miss Hunter did. Her eyes flashed a bright light at him, that made his heart feel warm, and he answered her smile, and then turned to his mother. " Yes, mother, a soldier of the Lord Jesus. I'm bound to serve Him all my life ; and since I'm all the man of the house there is, I was wondering if you would care if I read some verses in the Bible and prayed, as grandfather used to do. I never knew before that grandfather did so." For the next minute or two it was so stili in that little new room that you could have heard your own heart beat, I think. Then Mrs. Stone said, and her voice was so low that Reuben had to bend his head to hear it : " Of course I wouldn't care, Reuben, if you want to." Without another word, Reuben reached for the Bible that he had been studying but a little while before, and read aloud the words over which he had been thinking that afternoon: "Thou therefore, my son, be strong in the grace that is in Christ tfesus. " And the things that thou hast heard of ine among many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men who shall be able to teach othen ftlso. II ■48 THR MAN OF THE HOUSE. ''Thou therefore endare hardness m a good 6 jldier of Jesus Christ. " No man that warreth, entangleth himself with the affairs of this life, that he may please Him who hath chosen him to be a soldier." There was a great deal about these verses that Reuben did not understand ; indeed they had caught his eye because the word soldier WM repeated several times, and then that last sen- tence about pleasing Him who had chosen him to be a soldier, gave him joy ; Reuben was sure of this, that he wanted nothing now so much as a chance to please Jesus. During this reading ho was much troubled as to what he should say when he knelt to pray. Remember, he had never heard his own voice in prayer, and indsed I may say he had rarely heard anybody pray. But he was much astonished to discover that words seemed to come to him without any trouble. Only a few simple sentences, but they expressed as plainly as words could, his resolution to belong to the Lord Jesus, and to serve Him in all things as well as he could from that time forth. He felt very happy when he rose from his knees ; someway he could not help feeling more like a soldier than before ; as though he had put on his uniform, you know ; besides, there had been some- thing in his mother's voice, low and husky though it was, which made him feel that she did not dislike the reading and praying. She had knelt very near to him, and he felt sure he had heard her crying. HB TAKES A NEW STEP ^^ IVrhap. »he wa« thiukiuK of KranJfather; p«rhap» 8ho had missed his prayers very much. And iieuben resolved that she should never miss prayers again It hardly needed Miss Hunter's happy sentence Well now, I thank the Lord that I belong to « family alter once more," to mako him feel that h. haa done the right thiug, and that Ood would bless him in it. CHAPTER XXllI. THEIR FIRST PARTY, There wus a good deal of excitement one evening in the new house where the Stone family lived. Sonie- tliiug very interesting had happened. Beth and Reuben were invited out to spend tlie evening, for the first time in their lives. You boys and girls who have been to a children's party, or to an enter- tainment of some sort, as often as once a month, ever since you can remember, will be astonished at this, but it is true. Hattie Turner, a young girl in Beth's Sabbath- school class, and her brother who was in Reuben's class, were to have a candy pull, with plenty of apples, and nuts, and games, and a good time generally, and Beth was braiding her hair in lovely silky braids, and tying it with blue ribbon to match her dress. " You are too miach dressed up for a candy pull, and that's a fact," her mother said, eyeing the blue merino with doubtful, and yet with satisfied eye. Beth did look so nice in it ! Miss Hunter came briskly to the rescue; theif was an alarmed look in Beth's eyes ; if she s?unU)oyH and girlH being topfether for half an hour, but what the Lord ^^ave thein a chance to show their colours. Why, Rntan looks out for that, even if the lx)rd didn't. He is alwaya puttin/^ in words and actions to help folks backwards, and them that won't go bade wards and have a Captain strong enough to lead them forward, have a chance to follow him." Reuben leaned against the side of the little table and looked thoughtful. " But, Miss Hunter," he began, " these are not rough fellows like some Oi" tliose in our shop ; they are well-behaved boys, real gentlemanly follows always, and the girls will be there, too; I don't believe I'll have any chances to-night." " Just you keep watch and see if you don't. I've seen gentlemanly boys and nice girls set a whole nest of snares for careless feet. You make me think of a nephew of mine to whom I once gave the verse : ' My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not.' He was going off to the woods with a party of boys. ' Auntie,* says he, ' the verse doesn't fit ; there isn't ft sinner among them ; those boy: are ever so much better than I am.* " * You keep a look out, my boy,* said I ; * it's my opinion you'll find the sinners enticing yon as hard as they can, before you are an hour older. You will have need for the verse if Satan is as smart as I have reason to think he is.' Well, in the evening he was pret t y quiet and thoughtful ; and when I got a chanrie- I asked him about the verse. ' Auntie.' said he. ' it t" 'S4 r//£ AfAN OF TIIK HOUSE. jnst o:ractly fitted ; I found a wliolft troop of sinners rifffht in my own heart enticing me as hard as they could ; 1 had to fight thorn with all my might ; it would have been so easy to have consented to what they wanted.' " " Whew ! " said Reuben, with a queer little whistle ; " I never thought of that." Then came Beth : " 1 thought 1 should never find my hem-stitched one," she said, in apology for having kept him so long. " I put it away so carefully I could not think what I did with it." " You are not used to having places for things," said Reuben, reaching for his cap, and feeling that Beth had been gone none too long for him to get his colours righted. " No," she said, with a happy little laugh. " b\»r that matter, I'm not used to having things. But, RfMiben, I'm getting ii.sed to it very fast. Now you know it isn't quite three months that we have been living here, and yet it seems to me as though I could not go back to the city and live in the old wa}r : I think I should die. And it seems as though we had always known what we would have for dinner, and con id always have meat once a day, and had never thought of such a thing as shivering over the stove to save cohI What makes people get used to things so fast, do you suppose ? It isn't that I've forgotten the hard places : I guess I haven't ! I wish I could, though ; I wouldn't like to have the girlw know how hard we used to have it." " Why not ? " said Reuben, wonderingly, " I THE IK FIF:S7 party. ass 111 )\V ■hould think you would like to have thcin know h'I al)out it, so they would understand better what hard times poor folks have, and what fun it is to help them. Why don't you ? " " Oh, because I don't," said B^^th ; and she tossed her pretty biO!"" ^flfvd, and looked and felt in a way that Reuben, not having a streak of that kind of pride about him, did not understand. I suppose it would be difficult to describe to you how veiy much Beth Stone enjoyed the first part of her first evening out. The girls were disposed to be eHy)ecially kind to her. The fact was, they liked the pretty little city girl, with her pale cheeks and deli- cate looks, and quiet, graceful ways, for Beth waa one of those who had grown grjiceijl by merely watching others at a distance. She had never had bright ribbon.3 to wear in her hair before, nor a lace ruffle for her dress; yet she kntnv as w^ell how to tie the ribbons, and just how high to baste the niftie, as though she had worn them all her life. Hadn't sho studied other little girls by the hour together ? Well, the little girls at the candy pull studied her, and liked her much ; so did the boys. They gathered around her and asked questions. She knew a great deal aiA/iit the city, to which some of them had never been ; sh«f had used her eyes to good purpose, and could describe the park, and the fountain, and the great store on Bnya^way that was like a gwjd-sized tiown in itself, and r/i^ny of the other wonders, in a way that astonished \\ii' listeners — even Reuben, who hadn't uii idea th«t Betti rxiuld talk so well. It uuems i- V' i ■s« TUE MAN OF TUB. tiOu:^E. 3 almost a pity that any other subject ahoulc? huv»» come up for discussion that evening. It was Arthur Holmes who suddenly drew the interest to himself by this beginning : " Oh, I've got the richest thing to tell you. Halley J'arsons has come home. Did you know he had come ? I wa^ up there yesterday and saw him. Well, you know little Teddy, the washerwoman's boy that Judge Por- ter is sending up there to school ? You don't know him, Reuben, do you ? A funny little chap who ie smart with his books, and Judge Porter Laa taken a notion to him and sent him off with his son to school. Halley says they have the richest fun with him. He told me about one scrape this winter. They have big rooms in the boarding-house, with double beds, and cots or something, and that brings six of the fellows in a room. Well, Teddy, you know, joined the Church just before he wait away. He's a real good little fellow, but he's an awful coward; and Halley, it seems, thought he -vould have some fun, and he told the boys im Tedd) a room ; and the first night they all talked and laughed a blue streak when they were getting ready for bed .• they watched for Teddv's Bible to come out. because Halley had told them that he read in the Bible, and prayed every night, as regular as the minister. But it seems they were too much for him that night : he left the Bible in the bottom of his trunk. Finally, a boy named Case, who slept nevest to the gas-light, gave the word that it would be oat in two minutes, and out it went. Almost, that it. He gav« the oiher fellows a wink. THEIR FIRST PARTY. »S^ le •inii left the least little glimmer of it not so you would notice it at all, Hal said, but so he could torn it on again in a twinkling. Then, for a few minutes, everything^ was quiet, Teddy in bed with the rest. Pretty soon they heard a little softly motion, not more noise than a mouse would make. ' What's that ? ' said Case, and he turned on a blaze of light. There sat Teddy on the foot of his bed, shivering as though he had an ague fit. Then, Hal said, you alight to have heard Case tell how sorry he was that h« turned out the light before Teddy was in bed. ' i didn't notice,' he said ; ' I thought everybody was ready. I ought to have paid attention to you, when you were a new boy.' Then he offered to help him, and said it was a cold night, and finally he hopped out of bed and tucked poor Teddy up head and ears, and turneu lown the light again. Then all was still, and pretty soon some of the fellows began to snore as though they were asleep. Then they heard that little creeping noise again. This time Case waited until he knew by the sound that Teddy must b« ali[)ped off of the bed, then he flashed the light up. Mid there stood Teddy, shivering, and looking like a ,oose. I'd have given a dollar to have seen him ! " Here Art ir stopped to laugh, nearly all of his listeners joining in. " Well, Case quec^oned him again, and he stammered and muttered something, wouldn't own, you know, that he w»nted to say his prayers. Case was very sorry for aim : Wte^ afmid he was aick ; ho^ed b( would be a;jie t tiiet p, and all that sort of •si THE MAN OF THE HOUSE tiling, and tucked him into bed and turned out the light again, or rather didn't turn it out. Afler that^ Halley said it was still so long that they began to think the little fellow had given up his prayers, or said them with his head ducked under the bed- clothes, and one or two of them were just dozing off to sleep when that mouse-like noise was heard again, and Teddy was evidently crawling out. This time Case waited until the youngster was fairly on his knees, in the middle of his prayer, maybe, then he Hashed up the light, and all the fellows sat up in bed, and there was Teddy out on the cold floor with his bare feet, nothing around him, kneeling down, with his eyes tight shut, and his lips going as if he was saying forty spelling- lessons at once. Well, sir, Halley said you never saw anything so funny. He said if he had been t^xpelled the next morning he'd have had to laugh. And all the boys just roared. 'J eddy, he hopped up and dashed into bed, and hid his head under the clothes, and Halley says they believe he cried half the night." Now 1 really don't know how to account for the way in which ^hose boys and girls listened to this •fyory ; there must have been among them those who tiiought that a 8ham«^ful a^s well as a silly trick had been played on poor 'f'eddy, yet every one of them joined in Arthur's laugh, save Reuben Watson Stone. }f*» sM up straight, his di^-ks red, his eyen flashing, himself ■© indiguant, especially over the faint little giggle which Beth gave, that he oould hardly oon- Irol hi« vuLoe enough to say : *' Well, 1 most say the this who had bhem me. little oon- SttV THEIR FIRST PARTV •59 that a meaner trick in a small way, without any- thing to be got out of it. I don't know as I ever heard of, and I've heard of a good many. The newsboys and bootblacks are always getting up some sort of trick that is twice as bright as this, and not any meaner. If I were Halley Parsons I'd be ashamed of myself for telling it, and calling it fun. I didn't know that rich gentlemen's sons, that had chances to learn, and all that, were so mean." Then the girls looked at one aiiothcr, and at Beth, whose cheeks flamed now like peonies, two or three of the boys whistled ; Stephen Miller said, " A lecture on Morals, one night only; admission two peanuts," and began to pass them around; then others of the boys and some of the girls laughed ; Arthur Holmes said, " Pshaw ! Nobody meant any harm ; it was only a little fun ; it didn't hurt the youngster, either; and he needn't have been such a coward as to be afraid to say his prayers, if he wanted to." " That is true,** said Reuben, in a quieter voice. He was already sorry that he had spoken so sharply, and did not believe that he would have done so if Beth had not given that little laugh. '' That is true ; I'm sorry the hi^tle fellow hadn't more pluck ; but I must say I can't see the fun in a lot of older fellows doing a mean thing because a little one has done u silly thing. I don't know how yon folks that have had chances argue about things ; I've never been to school, aud I've never had tnaoh to do with boys ! k . i.'i HH I' ' I I I ate rffjf MAN OF THR HO VSR. who could go, but I know there isn't a street-boy in the city who would play so mean a trick on one of his own mates as that ; they stick together, and try to help each other ; and I supposed all boys did." It had its effect on the boys, this frank confession that he had no chauces, and knew more about streetj- boys thar he did about those who were carefully taught in happy homes ; had Reuben given his opinion without this explanation, there were those present who would have been rnde enough to ask him where he got his education, what boarding-school he attended, or whether they taught manners in the box factory, or some such silly thing, to remind him that they were, most of them, boys whose fathers took care of them, and sent them to school, while he had to work hard for a living. As it was, they didn't know what to say. I think, perhaps, some of them were a little cross over Reuben's bold hint that the city newsboys and bootblacks were ahead of them in politeness, but they seemed at a loss how to answer him, and all were glad, I think, that just at that moment the candy was announced ready to pull. But there was one little girl for whom the rest of the evening was almost spoiled, and that was Beth. It Vis not on account of that silly little laugh, though she was a good deal ashamed of it, or wouM have been had she gi^ ^n herself a chance to think. The story had not tirimsed her at all ; in Eact she had thought it a shameful and stupid trick ; rnniR first party. IH^B I rest Iwas little or to in Lok; bnt the truth waa, poor little Beth's pretty head wa» turned with a desire to be like other people. The boys and girls who had always worn nice clothes, and had gone out of evenings to candy pulls, and had pleasant times together in a hundred ways that were new to her, had laughed over the story, so she, Beth Stone, must needs do so ; that is the way she reasoned. Of course, beitJg in this frame of mind, Reuben's frank statement that he had never had any chances, or been to school like others, and that he was quite well acquainted with newsboys and bootblacks, and other dreadful beings like them, was like live coals dropped on her comfort. How could Reuben talk so ! All these uncomfortable thoughts went racing through her brain as she pulled and pulled at her candy, determined to have hers the whitest strand in the room. The talk went on gaily enough, and but for Reuben's noticing that most of the boys had very little to say to him, it would have been pleasant work to pull that candy. As it was, ho found him- self somewhat in the comer, working alone ; not a boy but rather resented being told that he had laughed over a mean trick. Still, I think the little cloud of discomfort would have blown over, and things would have settled into pleasantness again, if it had not been for the next thing that happened, after the candy waa pulled, and much of it eateu. m OHAPTKR XXTV. i-IOlV n kNDED. i ( 1'bk next thing was, that after sticky hands had been washad, and little wads of candy had been picked tram chairs and ourpet, and the company had all gone into the sitting-room for some games, the dining-room door opened, and black Nancy appeared with a large fruit-basket of apples in one hand, and balancing on her head, in a grace- ful way, the largest pitcher Reuben had ever seen. "Oh, oh!" shouted John Stuart, who was a nephew of their host, " apples and cider ! I forgot that we had any cider. Boys, 1 tell you, it is prime ; jnst the right taste to it." In a twinkling a row of sparkling goblets wna arranged on the table, and brimmed with the beau- tiful amber-coloured cider. " Doesu't it look too lovely for anything ! '* declared little Addie Parker, clasping her hands in a flutter of satisfaction. " I do love cider dearly, and we never have any at our house, because Aunt Fanny doesn't like it ; so silly in her ! " ' Why, can't you have anything at your house that your Aunt Fanny doesn't like ? " //t?ff IT ENHED, :\'\'\ WRi jau- g- U in lunt louse Til is qnestioT) was asked in a very wonderinf.^ ton© by Arthur Holmes, aud, while the others laught^i, Addie explained : "Oh, she doesn't approve of it, you knoH' ; doesn't like to have the boys drink it ; she is afraid they will be drunkards ; " and Addie's laugh rang out in a silvery way, as though becoming drunkards was a very funny thing; " so out of politeness to her, papa won't have it, bouanse she is the housekeeper, you know, and he says she ought not to have in the cellar what she doesn't like." " The idea ! " said Kate Wells ; " I thought every- body drank cider." Now Kate Wells was one of the best-dressed little f(irls in the room ; in fact, she was always well- dressed, and she lived in an elegant house, with lovely lawns about it, and a carriage-drive up to the door, and she rode on horseback a wonderful little pony of her own, and her father was the richest man in town. I wonder, after all I have told you, if you are astonished at Beth Stone for taking sips of cider with the rest ! Little bits of sips they were, and they did not taste good to her at pll ; in fact, she told herself that she did not see what they wanted to make such a fuss over cider for, she hated it. Yet she sipped it. Reuben was astonisLed. He stared over at Beth in a way that made her glowing cheeks feel as though they would blaze ; and she even spilled a little of her cider on the blue merino. Reubei? began to feel as though he really was not acquainted with Beth. When before, in all ' a<4 THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. 1 her life, had she gone coiitiary to his views and plane ? She had thought as he thought, liked what lio liked, and hated what he hated with all her earnest little heart, until now, when something, the name of which he did not know, had come in between them. Even if somebody hud told him that the name of this enemy was pride, I am not sure that he would have understood, he knew so little about such an enemy. " No, T thank you," he said when his glass of cider was passed, and he said it in a louder and firmer t/ono than he would have used had not Beth been sitting opposite to him just then, sipping hers. " What ! " said black Nancy ; " ain't got a boy here that don't like cider ! " " No," said Reuben v in, in that very clear, firm tone ; '' I like it first-rate ; but I won't drink it all the same. « Why not ? " " Because I have signed a temperance pledge, ibr one thing." " Ho ! " said Harry Jones, crossly ; " temperance pledges have nothing to do with cider ; everybody drinks it." ** My pledge has something to do with cider : it speaks it right out ; and if it didn't I would have it put in. I have been thinking about it a good deal, all this winter, and I've found lots of temperance folks, and a good many books, that don't believe in cider at all." ** But this is nothing but sweet cider." H01V IT ENDED. its for : it e it [eal, mce in Thin Stella Burns said, sp«>akmg a little timidly. She belonged to a temperance society, and had signed u pledge that had cider in it, and she wanted to do right, but she had made her weak little con- science believe that the pledge couldn't [X)ssibly have meant sweet cider, for everybody said that did no more harm than water. The simple truth wau that she had not hoard * everybody" say any such thing ; only three of her itchoolmates had said so. " There isn't any such thing as sweet cider," declared Reuben boldly, " not of the kind that people drink ; it begins to have alcohol in it before it is a day old, and people don't like the taste of it until it does have." " Where is your cider mill ? " asked Arthur Holmes, and the others laughed. But Harry Jones had no idea of letting the argument go, atid he began to question and cross-question in a way that showed his conscience was a little touched, and Heuben answered in a way that showed he had studied the matter and was prepared to argue. But some of the boys had no idea of getting themselves worsted in an argument; they had not forgiven Reuben for refusing to laugh with them over the trick played on Teddy; they were in no mood to hear more from him. " Poh ! " said Arthur Holmes ; " let him alone, what's the use of talking ? It's natural enough that he shouldn't want to drink cider ; his great-grand- &ther and his grandfather were both drunkards, and t^S THP \fAN OF THE HOVSP. ■ hih father when he woh a small boy laughed at another boy for being afraid to say his prayerH, and then to drown his remorse took to drinking cider, and wa8 never heard of afterwards." Arthur Holmes was nearly four years oldt^i- than Reuben, and had the name of being very witty ; this must account for the folly and falsehood in his sentence. Some of the boys laughed, many of them seemed to think they must when Arthur spoke, but two or three looked over at Reuben as though they thought this was pretty hard, and they were sorry for him. Reuben, however, was not at all troubled ; he was one of those fortunate boyn who always grew uncon- cerned when people began to say false and foolish things about him. Had there been even a shadow of truth in Arthur's words, 1 do not know how he might have felt, but as it was he fixed a pair of good-natured eyes on Arthur, as he said : •' You are not very good at it after all. You ought to hear some of the poor fellows who get their living by telling stories ; they could beat you all tc pieces, and scare yon too, sometimes. There won't be any more truth in what they say than there is in what you have been saying, but then, you see, they don't know any better." This time the laugh was against Arthur, most of the listeners having sense enough to see that Reuben had given him a very sharp answer, ** Let him alone," said John Stuart, good-naturedly. //OIV IT ENDED, a67 Uy. " If a fellow doesn't want to drink sweet cider, 1 don't l)elieve in making hirn do it ; there will be all the uior*^ leift for iih." Kut Kate Wells had no idea of ^ivinj? it up in that way. She brought her sparkling giasH of cider, and sat down beside Reuben. " But I want you to tell nie," she began in a clear voi(5e that could be heard all over the room, "ju.st why yon don't believe in drinking sweet cider. You ire not really afraid of being a drunkard, are you ? " ''Yes," said Reuben, soberly; "I am afraid of being a drunkard." And Beth, hearing this, hearing the exclamations of surprise and dismay and amusement that went around the room, felt as though she would like to slip down through the floor somewhere, out of sight. " But that is being a coward ! " said Kate Wells, who nearly always spoke her thoughtn aloud, without stopping to think how they would sound. The boys laughed at this, and Arthur Holmes said : "That's plain English, anyhow." " What is being a coward ? " Reuben asked, and Kate tried to answer : " Why — why— it's being afraid, of course." Then all the boys and some of the girls trifni to talk at once, and tell what they thought was i he meaning of the word coward, and they got into such oonfuHion that John Stuai-t aaid : ^^ Hold on, I'll aak the old fellow in the bookcase s I; ! I I . a68 THE MAN OF TltR HOVSR. what he thinks about it; hiH opinion la WDrih three of ours, any day." So he drugged down " W«ilisftir U^mbridged," and, poring over it a few minutes, read aloud : " Coward : a person who lacks courage to meet danger." Most of the listeners seemed surprised by this definition ; it did not quite seem to tit Reuben for refusing to drink cider ; but Arthur Holmes was for holding to it. " Well, suppose there was danger to some people in drinking cider — mind you, I don't believe it — but suppose there was, then the people who are all the time so afraid of the danger that they can't enjoy it, nor let anybody else enjoy it, are cowards, I should think.' " Hold on," said Reuben. " If there is danger to anybody, then I mast have % good .-eaHon ibr going into it. and setting other people an example to follow, mustn't I ? That is what we agreed in the class, only last Sunday, anyhow. Now, where's my good reason for drinking cider, if there is a fear that anybody in the world might be harmed by it ? " '' I didn't say there was any such fear," said Arthur. But the talk wan getting away from where Kate Wells wanted to keep it. '' But what I want to know is," she said, looking ftt Reuben, " why you come to be different from the rest of the boys a))out this ? What made yon think •f older, and decide that it was wrong to drink it, Nil! "I' ! iiif lid ittt bhe it. ffoiv rr F.Nnw.ri a6<) and ^'ive it op when you Bay you iik«< it? Did any- body tell you you must ? "Of course there did. His mother told hin to- night just before he left home that if he drank a drop of cider she would tie him to the bed{)ost and feed him on castor oil for a week." Of course this was Arthur Holmes who was trying so hard to be fanny ; but the lK)y8 were not ready to laugh, they were listening to Reuben's answer. " Yes," he said, opeaking slowly and gravely, ''somebody told me I muHtn't. I'm a soldier; I. belong to the Lord Jesus Christ. I've promised to fight for everything that is right, and to fight against everything that is wrong, aw long as I live ; and I know rum is wrong, and I know it leads people down to awful places. I've seen more of it than any of you, I suppose ; you can't walk through the streets of a big city, as I did every day for years, without seeing enough of it to make you hate it. I've been in terrible danger, too, with a drunken man ; it wasn't my father ; " and here Reuben's eyes flashed. " My father has been dead so many years that I don't re:Qember him at all, but I know he hated rum. It was a stranger to me, but T thought that he and I would both be killed together, all because of rura, anc I hate it. 1 talked with a friend about cider, and she showed me plain enough that there was danger in it, and since then I've read about it, and heard two temperance lectures on it by great me))., and 1 know there is danger in it ; so then it is wrong, biid ssi I !l 'h ' 1 170 7/rE MAN OF THE HO USB I! „;;! I'm bound t» tight against it, because I am « aoldier," It was a lont^ speech for Reuben to make. When he began, he liad not the least ulna that h© would say so much, but the words seemed to come almost without his knowing it. Nobody laughed when he stopped, and some of the little ^firls set back their glasses and concluded they didn't want any more cider. " Oome," sai i John Stuart at last, •' we've had talk enough ; let's play some games." Soon afterwiii'ds Beth and Reuben took the stillest walk home thet they had ever taken in their lives. Reuben was dumb with disappointment over the evening ; not for what the boys hail said ; he had been used to b( 'ys all his lite, rougher boys than these ever thought of being, but because Beth had not aaid and done ns he thought she would. The winter which was nov. almost gone had been a disappoint- ment to him ii. this regard. In his honesf and earn<*at heart Reuben had fully ♦^^xpected Beth to join him as soon as ever she heaid of the great news that he was a soldier ; indeed ha had no thought of going without Beth. But, to his great dismay, she was not interested in his new hopes md plans. Her hea(i was full of her pretty new dressen and ruffles, and new ways of braiding her hair, and in looking and acting as much as possible like other l^'ttle girls of her age. She worked hard on her bright brass machine, driving the needle between the shining teeth in a way that HOIV IT ENDED, m d ha ia ler of lich ;he log Liat astoniahed even herself, and earning more money each (lay than her mother had been able X/o earn in the city, working twelve hours a day ; but her ambi- tion was to earn money enough to go to school, and study French, and perhaps, after awhile, take music lessons. " Who knows? " said Beth to herself. " A great many ^vomlerful things have happened this year ; some more things may happ>en before the year is out.** So, though she was bright and eager and in- dustrious, as ready as ever to enter into all Reuben's plans for work or study, on this one subject, that was every day growing to be more to Reuben than anything else, she was unconcerned. So they were both still on this moonlight evening aw they walked liome together from their first party. Neither was as blissfully happy as both had expected to be. " 0, Beth ! " Reuben said at last, " I didn't think you would drink the cider." " Why not, I wonder ? I haven't signed your old pledge, and I don't mean to. I think it is silly, anyway, and awfully proud in you, Reuben Stone, to set yom'self up to know more than all those boys and girls who have been to school all their lives. I only sipped the cider, and it was nice and sweet, and if you had kept still I might have havi a nice time ; and I didn't a bit; and I never want to go anywhere again, so there ! " Reuben had never in his lift heard hib ^Itjter calk \l : ; t» THE MAN OF THE fiO'^SE. iu that fashion before ; he did not know what to nay. At last he tried to explain. " But, Beth I couldn't, yon know. I had signed the pledge ; and I couldn't, anyway, because 1 am a soldier, and oh, Beth ! I thought you were going to be one ! " " Well, I'm not ! " declared Beth, in her sharpest tone. " I don't want to be a soldier, nor anything that makes you different from other people. I've been different all my life — never had things, nor gone to places, nor done like other little girls ; and now, just when I've got a chance to be like them, and have a good time, you go and spoil it all with your notions about its being wrong to drink cider, and wrong to langh at a funny story, and wrong to do anything ; and you go and tell them about your never having had any chances, and about newuboys, and boot- blacks, and everything ! You never used to be so! Before you went and got these notions you would do anything for me, and now you spoil all the good times I might have ; and I never want to be a soldier at all ; and «vish you wasn't one, ao there ! " And poor angry little Beth burst into a perfect passion of tears, and dashed into the house like a, comet. And that was the way that first evening out, to which they had looked forward, ended. No, not quite that way. Beth went directly up- stairs, but Reuben stopped in the little parlour » Tioment. No one was there but Miss Hunter ffOlV IT ENDED. 2/3 ao to She greeted him with a cheery smile, and a (|uea- tioii : "Well, my boy, did you see anything of Satan to-night ? " "0, Miss Hunter! he waa there all the time, and busier than I ever saw him before." " I'll warrant you ; get a party of boys and girla together, and he's on hand." " And, Misa Hunter, he is after Beth." " Of course he is. Do you think he is going to let piich a pretty, bright little girl as Beth alone, and let her slip away from him without a hard fight? lie is much too sharp a captain for that. Don't you let him get her, my boy." " I don't know." said Reuben, doubtfully. " I don't b-^ilieve I can help it ; down there in the city, where there were fifty chances for going wrong where there is one here, she was just the best girl ! I thought maybe after I found out about it that she had been a soldier all the time, and didn't know it. But up here, where everything is nice and pleasant, and it is as easy again to do right, she seems just as difierent, you can't think.'* " Yes, I can think," said Mis3 Hunter, nodding her grey head. " Satan has different ways for different people, and he knows just how to catch a pretty girl like our Beth : it is twice as hard a place for her to do right in as it wan in that dingy north room of yours, abut up with her mother. But look here, my boy, yon can't do much, to be Hure, alone ; but isn't that Captain of yours strong enough T I' i •74 r//£ MAxV OF THE ffOf/SS. to mauage Satan in the coiiTitry ^ well as in the city ? Do you suppose he has got any plans that your Captain don't understand? Well, then, just you go to Him about Beth : tell Him the whole story, and ask Him to show you just how to get her to wear your colours. If I were you, I would telJ Him all nbout it this verv ui-riit" P^uben did. CIIAPTF.Pv XXV. ji T BliTH'S SUGGEsrrc V. .1 " There ought to be some way thought out ftwr keeping these wrists in shape, after you get them done ; great use in silking them S( nice, and patting and smoothing them, when you know they'll be poked into a great box that doesn't fit them, and be all rumpled up dreadfully." This was Beth, talking to herself, while she looked over and put the finishing touches on a dozen ladies' gaun' let gloves, that she had taken unusual pains in silking. At least, she concluded that she was talk- ing to herself ; Reuben was in the room, and had been for an hour, and Beth had said a good deal during the hour ; at first to him, but, finding him eager over the arithmetic lesson that was puzzling i^im, and getting no answer save an absent-minded " um," now and then, which he meant for " yes," Beth had tried to keep still. Whether the subject had specially interested him, or whether it was because he had just conquered a troublesome exam- ple, I do not know ; but as Beth finished her lecture about the gauntlets, he looked up from his slate and said : " What did you say, Beth ? " •>« THE MAN OF THE HOmR. i;: Ml " Oh," said Bethj " you've got back, have yon ? Fve b»^eii talking to you by spells for the last half- hour, and I might as well have talked to the lamp." Reuben laughed, owned that he had been bothered by an example, but had beaten it, and then asked again what she said about boxes. " Oh," said Beth again, " it was that word tikat waked you up : say anything about boxes, and if you are within a hundred miles you will hear; well. I said that some of you ought to coutrive better-shni xhI boxes for these bLdutiful gauntlet gloves than the ones you stuff them into ; 1 know they must come out looking horrid, and I think it is too bad ; look at these, Reuben. Isn't that orange silk too lovely for anything ? " " That's an idea," said Reuben, taking the gaunt- let in hand, and looking as though the orange silk was very far from his thoughts, though he stared at it with wide-opened, dreamy eyes. That was really the beginning of it. The arith- metic suffered somewhat after that for days together ; the mother, looking on, was a good deal disturbed ; she wanted Reuben to be a scholar ; his grandfather had been, and she had watched the bringing out of the arithmetic, and heard Reuben's determination to catch up with the rest of the boys, so he could join the class by next fall, with great satisfaction. Now the question was, what had taken his attention so completely that for three evenings he did not open the arithmetie ? *• M ever you mind." naid Mias Hunter, nodding her AT BETtrS SUGGESTION. •n ti so )pen her head. " The boy has an idea, and he is planning to carry it out. I see him busy thinking, even while he is eating his sapper ; there isn't any mischief brew- ing as long as he has such clear eyes as those, and prays every evening the way he does ; don^ ym be afraid." " You don't think he can do anything wroug ? " said Mrs. Stone, but she smiled as she s^id it ; she was very proud of Reuben. Now what was he about ? Well, I suppose you have forgotten all about those seven pasteboarc'is out of which he meant to make his fortune ; but you may be sure he had not. All throiitjrh the winter, which was now quite gone, he had thought about them more or less, gone often to look at them in the comer of the attic where they were stored, and thought over and cast aside several plans for making something new and wonderful out of them. Nothing suited him ; he wanted something different from what had ever been seen, and he could not decide on what it should be. The moment Beth began her argument against the boxes now in use for her favourite gauntlets, he was interested ; a thought came into his mind, and grew as the days went by. First experiment did not succeed ; in fact one entire sheet of the seven was spoiled before anything had come of his idea. Meantime Beth grew almost discouraged over his stillness and dreaminess. *'lt is worse than arithmetic," she told MIas Hunter. " For then I could get him to say a '■ \ f; •»« THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. \ ^!i word onoe in awhile; but now he jnst ^its ancl stiires at the sky, or the trees, and do«^su't open his lips." " You wait," aaid Miss Hunter ; " something will oome of it, I know." Miss Hunter believed in Reuben. It was nearly two weeks after the new idea had taken root that Reuben came home one even- ing with a radiant face. He could hardly eat his supper, and made them all laugh by trying to eat his syrup with a fork, and stir his milk with a knife. He seized upon the bread-dish the moment supper was over, and followed Beth to the cellar for a confidential talk. *' Beth," he said, his face aglow with triumph, « I've got it ! " " Have you ? " said Beth with provoking coolness, as .'.he stooped over the cookie-crock. "I hope it is worth having, and that you will give me a piece of it." Reuben laughed gleefully. " I'll do that," he said; "at least you shall have a piece of the * thank you ' that I feel sure Mr. Barrows will give me. I am going to tell him that you deserve the largest half of it, for it was you that gave me the idea in the first place." *' Reuben," said Beth, seating her lamp on the potato-box and herself on an overturned tub, " what e{o yoa mean ? " " Why, that night — don't you know, when you found fault with the boxes that they pack gauntlets AT BETirS SUGGEST lOK •n he ihe ive I the Ithe the ihat lyoii llets in? I never thought of it before, how awkward thoy an« but that set me to thinking and phiTuiiug until now I've got the nicf»at kind of a b<^x for them; T made one, a regular beauty, brought it home under my work apron, and hid it in the parlour. I wanted vou to see it before anybody else did, and tell mp what you thoni^ht of it ; not a soul has laid eyes uu it. Are tiu3i(. any gauntlets in the house ? " " Yes, there are some beauties that I finished jnat this afternoon ; the wrists are lined with dove- coloured silk, and they are finished with the most lovely shade of blue silk ! If you have a box as pretty as they are it must be a beauty." " Come, children," called Mrs. Stone. " What in the world keeps you so long in the cellar ? " It was not until the dishes were washed and the little kitchen in complete order, that Reuben had a chance to show his treasure. Theu he and Beth went to the parlour ; Betb with a pair of the lovely gauntlets under her arm for a trial. It was a perfect Ht! An entirely new idea — a box finished with more care than usual, in green and gold, and looking on the outside like all other boxes ; but within an ingenious piece of pasteboard had been fitted in such a way that it shaped the giaceful wrist of the gauntlet exactly, and kept it froui being crushed. Beth clapped her hands in delight. " They will be worth more money, I know they will I " she said eagerly ■ i ' ^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MV-S) /q ^ ^^1^. .^''^^vv<'. «r ^^ !>■. E K, », 1.0 I.I 1^ Ui Ki Si Ui |2.2 m |4 Hiotographic _,Sciences Corporation i 2.0 Lil i U 116 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MSSO (716) S72-4S03 V iV ^ it m- plained that the boys did not come to see him. I really have not time to tell you much about the next three weeks, only in a general way. Reuben carried out his resolve, and went that very evening to ask after Andrew, and found him sick and sulfering. His mother, who had iiad orders to lo^ '' ever^ h^ soo THF. MAN OF THF HOUSE. J 3 fellow ill who looked like a boy," took Renl)f>n to hit* room without warning. A very short call he luarle, bat he felt so aoiry for Andrew, that on the next day he went again, and again : and at last it grew to be a settled thing that not a day would pass without his spending all the time he could get with Andrew. The books suffered a little. He learned a lesson every night, but it was shorter than it used to be, and his mother wondeied if he were going to " learn to nurse sick folks " instead of being a scholar ; and Beth asked many questions as to why he had grown fond of "that Porter boy, all of a sudden." Reuben owned that he was not fond of him, but that few of the boys came to see him — he seemed not to have many friends ; and he was so lonesome. " He is getting used to me now, and likes to Uave me come ; at first he did not seem to want me." This was all the explanation Reuben had, and Beth tossed her head, and thought it was very queer. As for Mr. Barrows, as the days passed, and Reuben was fakhful to his work and respectful, yet came no nearer to that confession for which the gentleman longed, he told himself that he did not know what to think. How could he trust a boy, and do for a boy as he had meant to for him, who had deceived him ? How wald the trouble have happened in any other way than through him ! Tet, on the other hand, how could a boy who was so faith- ful in all other things have so dreadfully deceived him once ? JUSTICE AT LAST. m r for and til at the fered ) was leiv^d )lks " many ' that Lat he came ends ; to me id not ation ought and I, yet the lid not boy, , who have Yet, faith- iceived Mr. BarrowB was in almost aa much trouble sp the rest of them. Meantime what Andrew thought as he lay day after day on his bed, mnc;li of the time alone, he kept to himself. It wtus a lovely snnunor evening. The windowi of Andrew's room were both thrown wide open, and the bed on which he lay was wheeled as near to them as it could be got, and he lay looking out on the lovely fields, green and quiet, thinking perhaps what a strange, sad thing it was that he should never scamper over them again, for his face wai very sober, Reuben, book in hand, waited to go on with the story which he was reading to him, but he put out his hand and motioned the book away. " No, I want to talk ; that is, I've got to talk. I've made up ray mind ; it has taken me weeks to do it, and I never thought I should ; and I suppose I might have waited to hear the last of the story, for you won't want to read it to me when I'm done my talk ; but I'm going to tell it right here this minute." "All right," said Reuben, " talk away/' " But you won't say much more to me in that good-natured way, old fellow, when you're heard my talk. I've got something awful to tell you. Reuben, it was I that took Samson out that night and brought him back again." " I thought as much," said Reuben, his voice very quiet and matter-of-course. He had not thought nii *;fej 30» THE MAN OF THE HOUSE. I; i over this whole thing for weeks without learning 4i» keep his face quiet when there was need. "You did I" In spite of the poor back there was a little start from the boy on the bed that made a quiver of pain shoot all through him. " Yes, I did. Do be careful, Andrew ! don't make the least bit of a movn again. What will the do(!tor say if you gt^t up a fever ? 1 think I better read now." " What made you think it was I ? " " Oh, I don't know. I just kind of felt maybe it was ; somebody had to do it, you see ; and I knew I didn't." " But how did I get in ? " " That's more than 1 know or can guess ; and it is what made iihe whole thing seem foolish ; only, you see, somebody got in, and it might as well have been you as anybody. Now, shall I read ? " "'No; I'm going to tell you all about it. I didn't mean any harm to you, Reuben, not a bit. I began to like you a little before this. I gue s I kind of liked you all the time. I didn't mean to do any harm to anybody. I thought he was dread- ful afraid of his old horse, and I knew I could ride horseback, and I thought he considered himself so smart about that key, that I just longed to try my hand with it; I most knew it was like the locks ancle James makes ; he's my uncle up in Eastport ; he makes all kind of locks, and he had one retril JUSTICE AT LAST, joj start pain raake locator ' read kybe it iuew 1 IB ; and fooUsli ; ght as liall I it. 1 t> a bit. gue 8 I nean to dread- aid ride nself ao try my le locks atport; me OTjPor that I lenrned how to nianajjfe. I thonp-htthis was like it, and it was^-oh, enough liko it for me to catch the trick vhen 1 saw Rupert locking the bjim one day ! Well, I didn't mean to steal a key, you know, but he left his right on the desk tiiat afternoon." "Who did?" "Mr. Barrows himself. He wears it on that chain, you know ; and while I was waiting for him to r€^ad the note I brought, he looked at his watch, and the chain got caught somehow, and he worked at it % minute, then he unscrewed the chain and slipped off the keys and laid them down on the desk ; then that fellow tumbled through the elevator hole, you know, and yelled, and Mr. Barrows thought he was hurt and ra)i, and I just picked up the key and ran too." " But how did it get back on the chain ? " saia Reuben in utter bewilderment. " That was easy enough. 1 didn't know how to do it. I thought T should have to lose the key. 1 wish now I, had done it, and then he would have thought some fellow found it and broke in, and wouldn't have blamed you. I never thought of hie being such a mooUy as to think you did it. I didn't, honest, Reuben." " Never mind. What did you do ? " " Why, I went there after milk, and Mr. Barrows was dressing. He had been up in Rupert's room taking care of him ; and there lay hi? watch on the table, and his cuff buttons, and all his iixiugs. I VH THR MAM OF THE HOVUE, ju»t sHppwl tbe key on the chain in a tvvinklinff, and wont Hway happy. I thought there wouldn't be any trouble to anybody." " 'ilien you didn't know Samson was hurt ? " ** Not a bit of it. I knew he stumbled, and got his foot in that mean hole in the cross-walk, and limped a little, but that was when we were just home ; and I hustlod him into the barn, and thought he would be all right in the morning ; but it turned out just awful ! " " Oh," said Reubon, " I'm so glad ! " "Glad of what?" " Why, that you didn't know how poor Samwoii wji.s hurt. It did seem too awful in anybody to leavo him to suflTer." " Well, I didn't think about his being hurt much cf any. I was cut up awfully when I heard the news next day ; then, next thing I heard he thought it was you. He might have known better than that, seems to me. I'd have known it with my eyes shut ; as many timeu as he has held you up to me for a pattern, too ! " Andrew's voice was full of contempt. " I'll tell you what I did," he went on after a m lament. " I watched to see if he would discharge you, then I meant to own up, whatever it cost; but when things went on just as usual, I felt a little better." " Oh ! " said Reuben. It was every word he said. It all flashed over him, the folly of trying to make a Ixjy like Andrew Porter yUSTfCR AT LAST. J05 Iter a jharge but little sr him, Porter uncI<»r9tnTid what he la*! HuHered, and what his rnutner and Beth had suffered in bearing iaUe blame. 'J'here waa more talk, a f^reat deal of it ; for now that Andrew's lips were open, he seemed to find com- fort iu telling all the particulars of those weeks. He told how '' beat " he was to think tliat llenben shouM have been the iirst boy to call on him, ami the only one to come to him day after day ; and how he had learned to watch for his coming, and how at last, when he made up his mind that he must tell the whole story or he should die, the worst was to think of not seeing him there any more. '^ I shall come all the same," said Reuben, quietly. '* But now I want to ask you one question more : When do you intend to tell Mr. Barrows ? " " I ! " said Andrew ; and the dark-red blood rolled into his face. " Why, you can tell him all aljout it ! I'll take the consequences ; they can't be very dread- ful here on my back. Father would pay for the horse fast enough if he had anything to pay with ; but he hasn't, and Mr. Barrows knows it.'' " No," said Reuben, firmly. " You're the one to tell." And to that he held, spite of Andrew's half- tearful arguments. It would be better, a great deal better, both for himself and for Andrew, that the confession should come from him. " And until you tell it," he said, " I will keej) •till. I have done it so long, and I can keep on." At laLt Andrew owned that il would be the best, but that he was sure he never could ; bat thttt if X ^-V % 3o6 THE AiAN OF THE HOUSE, h \ Reuben would wait, some day he would try; ho could not tell when. And truly it seemed to Reuben as the clays passed, that Andrew was very long in keeping his promise. He did not desert him. The readings went on, and the tender care and kindness, and because of the fever and delirium that followed this first talk, he did not hurry him, or indeed say a word more than his wistful eyes said every day. But all the time he could not help wishing and wishing that Andrew would get courage to do right. He could not bring himself to be willing to tell the story, for he feared Mr. Barrows and others might think that his only object in going to see Andrew in his trouble was to threaten the facts outj of him. One night he knew as soon as he tnmod the comer that led to the little house, and saw Beth standing at the gate, that something had happened. Sore enough, she rushed toward him. " O Reuben, such news ! You can't think ! Don't you believe that Andrew Porter did it all ! And he has had Mr. Barrows tliere and told all about it, and how good you were, and all. And Mr. Barrows hab been here, and he cried, and said he shonld never forgive himself for thinking hard of you, and I'm Bure I don't believe I can ever forgive him ; but he was BO nice, Reuben, yen can't think. And he wants you to go to school all the time, and he is willing to Bend yoa to college, and — oh dear ! it is such a splendid long story; Reuben, aren't you awfully HiiLonished ? * JUSTICE AT LAST. ^ tl« sed, lise. and the 3 did 1 his » he idrew bring feared s only ivas to corner nding Sore ** No,** said Reuben, bis ey^*^ shining. " Not much. V^on see 1 knew the most of it before." Then was it Beth's turn to open her eyes, and she stormed him with questions, and ove?'whelmod hira with exclamations for the next half-hour. How could he possibly have kept still all thosf weeks, thinking that Andrew Porter was the boy ? Why didn't he run right home and \fiell her the minute Andrew con- fessed it ? What was the use in being thought so meanly of a minute longer than was necessary ? After much careful explaining:, Reuben succeed ^d in making his eager sister understand something about the feelings that had kept him patient and quiet all these weeks. "\'ou see," he said, as a finish to the story, "I could aflPord to wait, because 1 knew it would all come out right. I didn't see how, but then I was sure of it, because I'm a soldier, and my Captain ii bound to take care of me and see me i^afe through everything, because He has promised ; and it is likely I shouldn't trust Him when I've enlisted to fight under His flag for ever I Oh, Beth, if you only were a soldier too ! " This silenced Beth. I did mean to stop right here, and not try to tell you anything more about Reuben Watson Stone, though, as you may imagine, there is plenty to tell. But I do feel as though I must tell you about one thing, because it seems to fit in so far back in the Itury. » m ^ TFfE MAN OF THE FrOUSF.. Not a weok after all these strange things had hbp* pened to Reuben, just aw he w&s starting for the shop one morning, a little red and white cow came trotting ap the street, a boy guiding her, and a smiling- fKced old lady on the side-walk moved towards Reuben. " How do you do?" she said heartily, as she caught a glimpse of him. " I was in hopes I'd find you in. You remember me, don't you ? You found ray ticket on the cars, you know, and helped me to tlie stage afterwards. Oh, I never forgot it, nor your nice, honest face. I've kept an eye on you ever since, though what with sickness in my son's family, and then being sick myself, I haven't got around before. I heard of your trouble, and I heard of your getting out of it. I knew you would, my boy ; the Lord takes care of His own, and I knew you was one of His own. I know a good many things about you. Look here ! " — and she stepped closer to him, and sank he." voice to a whisper— " you didn't know Spunk's master had anything to do with me, now did you ? It is queer, but I*m his grandmother, and I've heard about midnight rides and saloons and all that. You did better work that time than you knew of. My grandson hasn't forgot it — can't forget it. He is the ' man of the house ' himself, you see — all the son his mother has ; and he didn't like the thought of the contrast there would be between you one of these days if he kept on and you kept on, and he has turned square around. JUSTICE AT LAST. 309 *' Well, I oughtn't to keep you away fifom yonr work, my man, so if you will just look after Dorcas here, and tell the boy where you would like to have her put, I'll trot on. Why, yes, of course she is yours ; a man with a family to support needs a cow. and she is the nicest critter ever was, and gives cream., moat, instead of m.ilk." Now I am sure there is no use in trying to describe to you Reuben's astonishment. Isn't it a good place to stop? And yet there came to him before that day closed what he called the best news he ever had in his life. It was Beth, curling in a little heap on the sofa beside him, who brought it. What do you think it was ? Why, that at last ■he had really decided to wear the colours of his Captain, and fight under His flag. Among thi pleasant words that she spoke to him that night were the ones that told him she had been led to think carefully about it all from seeing how well he bore the trouble that had come to him. Before that she was getting to have a feeling that it was easy enough for Reuben to be good ; everybody praised him and trusted him, and he did almost exactly as he liked, and there wasn't anything for him to be cross about. But afterwards, when she found her- self so cross with Mr. Barrows, and so angry at thttt wicked somebody who brought all this trouble on him, and found Reuben so patient, and so unwilling to have Mr. Barrows blamed, and so cheerful «ll the 3»« rHR MAN OF THE ffOUSK, time, she began to see that something had ra^de him very diflerent. It was qnite dask when they had their happy talk. Eleuben had been to pay a visit to the new Samson who lived in the bam, and who already knew him and liked him well. He had fed Dorcas her evening meal, and drank a glassfnl of her rich creamy milk, and had tncked her away for the night. All the day's duties were done. Just then the parlour-door opened, and mother came, bringing a lamp, behind her Miss Hunter, looking twi(3e glad, for Beth had given her the good news. " Come, Reuben,** said his mother, " let us have prayers now ; it is after eight o'clock. 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One of the finest and most lavishly illustrated editions yet produced. 448 pages. Ward, Lock it Co.'« Olft Book«, Prize«, and Reward* THE "TIP-CAT" SERIES (BY THE AUTHOR OF " LADDIE "). Large Crown 8vo, Art Linen Gilt, Illustrated, as. 6d. CHAMBERS' JOURNAL $ay$!— "The diffidence of the authoreu of ' Laddlt ' hat hitherto prevented her real name and portrait from going forth to the public. But her work it finer, and hat more grit, tanity, and beau^ than it the caie with writers who are better known. It it pottible that her ' Laddia ' may become • dattic." TIP-CAT. By the Author of " Laddie." With four illustrations. A very pathetic story of hardships and sacrifice, telling how the tenderness and generosity of one may make life smooth and happy for others. DEAR. By the Author of " Laddie." With four illustrations. The love-story of the daughter of a simple-hearted country clergyman. The way she is deprived of her lover, and duped into marrying the squire's son, and the final attainment of her heart's desire, are told with great charm and pathos. PEN. By the Author of " Laddie." With four illustrations. A story of the neglect of two motherless children. The sketches of character and touching love passages are exceedingly weli told. MY HONEY. By the Author of " Laddie." Illustrated by Sydney Cowell. *' It is always a pleasure to meet with a book by the authoress ot ' Tip-Cat.' The story is full of charming character drawing." — Graphic. ROB. By the Author of " Laddi«." Illustrated by John Williamson. " Interestingly written, and will be read with equal pleasure by members of either sex." — Westminster Gazette. Ward, Lock & Co.'s Qlft Books, Prizes, and Rewards told. loress ot ing. — ksure by THE "TIP-CAT" SEKlKS-continued. LIL. By the Author of " Laddie." With four illustrations. " A volume of intor nting reading that should attract all young people." — Sunday Schi.H>l Rtcorder. OUR LITTLE ANN. By the Author of " Laddie." With four illustrations. The story of a girl who from the tirae she left tne country for tovm led a chequered life. The various episo'les are cleverly con- nected, and the descriptive portions well told. FAITHFUL. By the Author of " Tip-Cat." A delightful tale, and one of the most clever aud fa<;cinating stories the author has written. LADDIE, etc. By the Author of " Tip-Cat." " It is possible that ' Laddie ' may become a classic." —Chamber Journal. THE CAPTAIN OF FIVE. By Mary H. Debenham. Illustrated by G. D. Hammond. " Every human being over seven and under seventy will agree '.n pronouncing it dehghtful." — Daily ChronicU. HOLLYBERRY JANET. By Maggie Symington (" Aunt Maggie "). With Frontispiece. " An excellent addition to a charming series." — Academy. THE PATTYPATS. By H. Escott-Inman. Illustrated by A. J. Johnson. " One of the most delightfully droll story-books that it is possible to conceive of. Brimful of quaint and wonderful notions, and teeming with mirth and ' go.' " — The Teachers' Aid. THE NIDDING NOD. By H. EscoTT Inman. Illustrated bv E. A. Mason *' It continues with the happiest effect tLt • o •.'^r-ical, whimsical, fanciful, and deUghtfnl account of the Pr..\/p.' Brisker fooling never came from Fairyland." — Ths SV-«>(««fMi>.i. Ward, Lock & Co.*s Qlft Books, Prizes, and Rewards ■it' i I THE LILY SERIES Tub Lily Sbribs, in its successive bindings and forms, has for nuiny years stuod foremost iu public favour, many millions of copies having been sold. Although the popular appreciation of its purity of tone, and high standard of literary merit, has sliovvn no signs of decrease, yet in view of recf-nt competition the publishers now issue the volumes in bindings of most beautiful design, thus maintaining the series as quite the best on the market. Well printed on good paper, each voluiae is illustrated by well-known artists. Layge crown 8vo, cloth gilt. is. 6d. euch. t/ I LITTLE WOMEN. By L. M. Alcott. ^ 2 GOOD WIVES. By L. M. Alcott. 3 THE LAMPLIGHTER. By Miss Cummins. (^4 UNCLE TOM'S CABIN. By H. B. Stowe. 5 THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD. By Wetherell. 6 QUEECHY. By Wetherell. 7 THE PRINCE OF THE HOUSE OF DAVID. By Rev. J. H. Ingrauam. 8 THE THRONE OF DAVID. By Rev. J. H. Ingraiiam. 9 MELBOURNE HOUSE. By Wetherell. ^^0 FROM JEST TO EARNEST. By E. P. RoE. 12 A KNIGHT OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. By Rev. E. P. Roe. 13 WHAT KATY DID AT HOME AND AT SCHOOL. By Susan Coolidgb. 14 THE OLD HELMET. By Wetherell. 15 DAISY. By Wetherell. I- 16 WITHOUT A HOME. By Rev. E. P. RoE. 17 BARRIERS BURNED AWAY. By Rev. £. P. Rob. Ward, Lock & Co.'« Qift Books, Prizes, and Reward/* Iy. By )L. By \. J. Evans Roe. Rob. THE LILY SKKlKS—coniinned. r8 BEN-HUR. By Ij:w Wallace. K) BEULAH. By A. J. Evans Wilson. 20 INFELICE. By A. J. Evans Wilson. hi ST. ELMO. By A. J. Evans Wilson. ^22 AT THE MERCY OF TIBERIUS. By \Vrr.soN. 23 A YOUNG GIRL'S WOOING. By E. P. / 25 TITUS. By Florence M. Kingsley. I 26 JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN. By Mrs. Craik. 28 THE PILLAR OF FIRE. By Rev. J. H. Ingrauam. 29 MABEL VAUGHAN. By Miss Cummins. 30 MISS LOU. By Rev. E. P. Roe. 31 HOLIDAY HOUSE. By Catherine Sinclair. 33 OPENING A CHESTNUT BURR. By Rev. E. P. RoE. 34 MACARIA. By A. J. Evans Wilson. 36 A DAY OF FATE. By Rev. E. P. Roe. 37 PRISONERS OF THE SEA. By F. M. Kingsley. 45 HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. By Rev. E. P. Rob. \6 TWO YEARS AGO. By Chas. Kingsley. \^47 DANESBURY HOUSE. By Mrs. Henry Wood. 48 MINISTERING CHILDREN. By M. L. Charlesworth. 49 MONICA. By E. Everett Green. t5o A FACE ILLUMINED. By Rev. E. P. RoE. 51 VASHTI. By A. J. EvANS Wilson. }j$2 THE EARTH TREMBLED. By Rev. E. P. RoE. 53 PRINCESS SARAH. By John Strange Winter. V54 HIS SOMBRE RIVALS. By Rev. E. P. RoE. 56 PAUL. By Florence M. Kingsley. Ward, Lock St Co/« Qift Bookj, Prlie«, and Rewards ;:|!i 57 58 60 61 62 64 65 66 67 69 70 71 72 73 74 \ 76 \. 77 78 79 80 81 THE LILY SERIES— con/twr^i. AN ORIGINAL BELLE. By Rov. E. P. Roe. DAISY IN THE FIELD. By Wetherell. NEAR TO NATURE'S HEART. By E. P. Roe. EDWARD BLAKE. By Chas. M. Sheldon. THAT LASS O' LOWRIE'S. By Mrs. F. II. Burnett. STEPPING HEAVENWARD. By E. Prentiss. INEZ. By A. J. Evans Wilson HELEN'S BABIES. By John Habberton, AGATHA'S HUSBAND. By Mrs. Craik. THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY. By Mrs. Craik. A RING OF RUBIES. By Mrs. L. T. Meade. THE DAYS OF BRUCE. By Grace Aguilar. ADAM BEDE. By George Eliot. EAST LYNNE. By Mrs. Henry Wood. THE CHANNINGS. By Mrs. Henry Wood. MRS. HALLIBURTON'S TROUBLES. By Mrs. Henry Wood. THE MILL ON THE FLOSS. By George Eliot. ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND. By Lewis Carroll. LORD OAKBURN'S DAUGHTERS. By Mrs. Henry Wood. MILDRED ARKELL. By Mrs. Henry Wood. VERNER'S PRIDE. By Mrs. Henry Wood. THE SHADOW OF ASHLYDYAT. By Mrs. Henry WooOb mrdti Ward, Lock A Co.'i Qlft Books. Priie.4, and R«ward« RNETT. IK. . Henry MOT. D. By Henry (D. Henry THE YOUTHS* LIBRARY Thb aim of th« publishert has be«n to provide a collection of the host stories for boys, and at the name time to Issue them in a style that shall be worthy of the great popularity bestowed on such famous books as " Robinson Crusoe," '* Ivanhoo," ** From Log Cabin to White House," etc. The result has been that the series is now regarded as quite the best in every way. Beautifully printed on good paper, each volume contains four full-page Illustrations by >v(>.! known artists. Largt Crown Bvo, cloth gilt. It. 6d. tach. I FROM LOG CABIN TO WHITE HOUSE. By VV. M Thayek. i 2 ROBINSON CRUSOE. By Daniel Defoe. 3 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. By John Bunyan. ' 4 GRIMMS' FAIRY STORIES. By Brothers Grimm. ). 5 GRIMMS' FAIRY TALES. By Brothers Grimm. 6 SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON. 7 ANDERSEN'S POPULAR TALES. By Han3 Andersen. 8 ANDERSEN'S STORIES. By Hans Andersen. 9 BOYS' OWN SEA STORIES. H THE SCOTTISH CHIEFS. By Jane Porter. 12 IVANHOE. By Sir Walter Scott. 14 PRISONERS OF THE SEA. By F. M. Kingsley. yts WESTWARD HO 1 By Charles Kingsley. 16 ARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS. 20 TWO YEARS AGO. By Charles Kingsley. ax THE LAST OF THE BARONS. By BuLWER Lytton. Word, Lock & C^.*% Qlft Books, Piizet, and Rewards THE YOUTHS' UnKAKY-cotUitimd. 22 HAROLD. By Bulwer Lytton. 24 THE HEROES. By Charles Kingslby. 26 WILLIS THE PILOT. Sequel to " Swiss FamUy Robinson.'* 27 THE CORAL ISLAND. By R. M. Ballantyne. ^8 MARTIN RATTLER. By R. M. Ballantyne. 29 UNGAVA. By R M. Ballantyne. 30 THE YOUNG FUR-TRADERS. By R. M. Ballantyne. 31 PETER THE WHALER. By W. H. G. Kingston. 35 THE WORLD OF ICE. By R. M. Ballantyne. 36 OLD JACK. By W. H. G. Kingston. 37 THE DOG CRUSOE. By R. M. Ballantv'NE. 1/^8 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. By Thomas Hughes. 39 A WONDER BOOK. By Nathaniel Hawthorne. 40 TANGLEWOOD TALES. By Nathaniel Hawthorne. 41 THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. By J. FsNiruORE COOFBK. 42 THE GORILLA HUNTERS. By R. M. Ballantyne. 43 THE RED ERIC. By R. M. Ballantyne. \/44 THE WATER-BABIES. By Chas. Kingsley. y45 ^SOP'S FABLES. 46 THE LIGHTHOUSE. By R. M. Ballantyne. 47 HEREWARD THE WAKE. By Charles Kingsley. 48 THE THREE MIDSHIPMEN. By W. H. G. Kingston. nd Reward! ■corUiwued' Jwiss FamUy .ANTYNE. STYNE. . Ballantyne. . Kingston, llantynb. LNT7NE. lOMAS Hughes. Iawthornb. :l Hawthorne. f J. FENIIiORB [. Ballantyne. rYNE. [NGSLEY. LANTYNE. RLES KiNGSLEY. H. G. Kingston. 'ii^ ,f^. 4^'f',