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 " Immediately shutting the door upon her, Willie stood alone with 
 liis infuriated father." 
 
 p 84.
 
 WIN AND WEAR 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, 
 
 Ho. 680 BROADWAY. 
 1867.
 
 
 Entered according to Act ot Congress, in the year 1860, by 
 ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District ol 
 New York. 
 
 EDWARD O. JENKINS, 
 printer * Stettotgpr,
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 L-THE BIVAL8, 6 
 
 IL WILLIE'S HOME, 90 
 
 IIL THE EXAMINATION, 48 
 
 IV. PLANS FOR WILLIE, 66 
 
 V. THE MILL, 88 
 
 VI. JERRY, 108 
 
 VIL-LATIN GRAMMAR 124 
 
 VIIL-THE OLD TRUNK, 146 
 
 IX. THE BEAN-FIELD, 160 
 
 X. THE DISAPPOINTMENT, ITT 
 
 XL THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR 194 
 
 XII. TRIALS 21T 
 
 XIIL SICKNESS AND DEATH, 248 
 
 XIV. THE CONCLUSION, 887
 
 
 WIN AND WEAR 
 
 I. 
 
 IN the crowded school-room of the 
 of Belden's Falls, a class of boys was 
 called out to recite. The clock from the 
 steeple of the church just by had long 
 since struck the hour of eleven, and the care- 
 less, indolent way in which the scholars at 
 their desks were turning over their dog- 
 eared leaves, showed that their attention and 
 interest were much more riveted upon that 
 same steeple than upon their books. Even the 
 class under the eye of a strict teacher, were 
 more intent upon the expected chimes, than 
 upon their recitation, when the attention of all 
 
 " 1* (6)
 
 6 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 was suddenly arrested by a trial of skill be- 
 tween two of the boys. It was reciting the 
 Rules of Syntax, from beginning to end, without 
 misplacing or missing a single word. * 
 
 The combatants were James Ashton, and 
 Willie Sumner. James was a large, well- 
 dressed boy of twelve. Willie was ten, quite 
 small, and his patched clothes told both of 
 neatness and poverty. 
 
 James had dark eyes and crisp black hair, 
 curling all over his head. He had very red 
 cheeks, and a pleasant, frank, intelligent look, 
 which made every one call him a handsome 
 boy. Willie had eyes blue as the summer sky, 
 and almost as deep ; light brown hair which 
 scarcely waved over his forehead ; and a thin, 
 pale face, reminding one forcibly of some of 
 those sweet angels which float halfway between 
 heaven and earth, in many of the pictures of 
 the Madonna. James was the largest, and 
 Willie the smallest boy in the class ; this made 
 the contest more noticeable.
 
 THE RIVALS. 7 
 
 There was to be a public examination in 
 three weeks : this grammar lesson was the first 
 of the reviews, and both the teacher and pupils 
 were desirous that a good beginning should 
 ensure a good ending. Every boy but James 
 and Willie had failed already, but neither of 
 these had so far missed one word. As they 
 proceeded with their prompt and correct an- 
 swers, the scene became very exciting you 
 could have heard a pin drop. The children's 
 eyes followed the boys' voices, as if they con- 
 tained a spell, and gradually flushed faces, and 
 eager, half-parted lips, told of the intense sym- 
 pathy which exists in the child world. " Twenty- 
 first Rule, James ! " said the teacher, Mr. 
 Lane, in a voice scarcely less excited than 
 James's own. 
 
 This rule had always been a difficult one to 
 James. He had spent more time in commit- 
 ting it than on all the others, but when he 
 closed his book and tried to repeat it, the words 
 would get misplaced. He did not understand,
 
 8 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 and had no clue by which to connect it. 
 So " the relations, connections, and depend- 
 encies intended/' arranged themselves accord- 
 ing to any " but the best usages of language." 
 As soon as his fears were realized, and he 
 found the rule had been given him, he became 
 confused, his eyes wandered quickly from Mr. 
 Lane to Willie, and then back again, and the 
 color rushed into his face. 
 
 Mr. Lane saw the trouble at once, and with 
 the wish of helping him, said over again, slowly, 
 " The Twenty-first General Rule." 
 
 " The different parts of a sentence," began 
 James, " should be made to harmonize with 
 each other, and should be so constructed" 
 several hands were raised at once ; James 
 stopped he knew that he had missed. 
 
 " You have recited so finely," said Mr. Lane, 
 " that you have deserved another trial ; Veep 
 cool, and begin again." 
 
 James hesitated. " Yes! yes ! " said a num- 
 ber of voices at once, " begin again it's fair."
 
 THE RIVALS. 9 
 
 "No, it is not fair," said James, stoutly ; " I 
 missed as much as the other boys have, and I 
 had rather not go on." 
 
 " You must go ahead 1 " shouted the boys. 
 
 " Silence, boys ! " said Mr. Lane. " James 
 has missed. I think he is perfectly right and 
 noble in his choice. Willie, can you repeat 
 it?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Willie, hanging his head. 
 
 " Repeat it, then." 
 
 " I should rather begin here to-morrow, if 
 you please, Mr. Lane," answered Willie. 
 
 " No, no, noiv" said the boys ; the sense of 
 justice fast succeeding their former generosity. 
 
 " I should prefer you would recite it to-day," 
 said Mr. Lane, gently. 
 
 Willie immediately obeyed, and repeated it 
 without a mistake. 
 
 " Now, boys," said Mr. Lane, addressing the 
 class, "you may take your choice. Willie 
 shall, if he is willing I will not compel him 
 to it go on and finish these rules alone, or
 
 10 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 wait until to-morrow, and try again with 
 James." 
 
 " To-day ! to-day ! " answered the class. 
 
 " Willie, what do you say ? " continued Mr. 
 Lane. " By going on to-day, you run the risk 
 of a failure ; but it will be more fair to James. 
 By stopping now, you will have a chance to 
 review. You may do as you please." 
 
 " I will go on if you wish,'' said Willie. 
 
 " No, I do not ivisli. You shall do as you 
 please. This is only fair to you." 
 
 " I will go on." 
 
 The school-room was again still. The chil- 
 dren listened with almost breathless interest, 
 as the soft, low tones of Willie's voice suc- 
 ceeded, without pause or hesitation, to the 
 number of the rule called for by Mr. Lane ; 
 and when the last word of the last rule was 
 said, the boys clapped and stamped, as if at 
 pome funny exhibition. To his great credit be 
 it told, that no one exhibited truer pleasure 
 than James. Mr. Lane glanced from him to
 
 THE RIVALS. . 11 
 
 Willie with an expression of greater satisfac- 
 tion than had been called forth even by the 
 perfect recitation. " They are noble boys," he 
 thought ; " God help me to make men of them 1" 
 
 Twelve long loud strokes had that belfry 
 bell sent forth, but not a child in school had 
 noticed them. They were therefore not a little 
 surprised when, with a word of apology for 
 having detained them beyond school-hours 
 they were dismissed. 
 
 What a noisy set they were ! as, having all 
 quietly passed the threshold, they broke forth 
 into the expression of their pent-up feelings. 
 
 " Hurra for Willie Sumner ! Three cheers 
 for Billy ! Wells' Grammar for ever ! and the 
 everlasting rules of syntax! Here's to the 
 nominative, possessive, and objective, and 
 Willie ! Willie ! Three cheers for the young 
 grammarian! Willie Wells for ever!" "A 
 new name ! a name ! " shouted the girls, in 
 shriller tones than the boys ; " Willie Wells ; 
 not Willie Sumner any longer ! "
 
 12 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 Poor little Willie 1 It was a ckar, cold win- 
 ter morning. The snow lay white and deep, 
 all orcr the ground. The long, pendent icicles 
 from the roof of the school-house, over their 
 heads, told that it had been long since the sun 
 had exerted the power of his warm beams ; and 
 the child had left the hot school-room, shivering 
 with excitement. Now the piercing air seemed 
 as if it struck through his thin garment with 
 actual blows ; and, amid the general glee and 
 excitement, he stood pale, trembling, and silent. 
 
 " Let us take the largest sled, and all tackle 
 on for horses, and drag Willie home," pro- 
 posed a stout, stupid boy, who could only com 
 prehend that a lesson had been recited which, 
 for some reason, had given pleasure. 
 
 " Agreed ! agreed ! James Ashton's sled is 
 the best one. Come I hand on, Jem." 
 
 " All ready," answered James, as he drew 
 his sled directly in front of Willie. " Step on, 
 Willie ; we can't chair you, as they do the boya 
 in Eton ; but we will sled you."
 
 THE RIVALS. 13 
 
 Willie stepped back. " I had rather walk, 
 thank you, James," he said. " I will help draw 
 you ; jump on yourself." 
 
 " No, no ! Willie Wells or no one," said the 
 authoritative voice of Young America. 
 
 " Then no one," said James, who saw how 
 pale and cold Willie was. " Let us change our 
 fun, and try a coast. Willie can beat at gram- 
 mar ; see who will beat at sliding. Here, sir ! " 
 he continued, addressing Willie, " if you won't 
 ride, catch hold and draw. Whoever reaches 
 Brown's hill first, is the best fellow." 
 
 Boys, like men, follow a leader without ques- 
 tion or comment ; so away the whole crowd 
 started, some few only stopping to seat their 
 favorite little girls upon their sleds. 
 
 Other boys could beat our young students 
 at play, if not at work ; so it happened that 
 James and Willie were not the " best fellows," 
 but came last to the hill. Perhaps they stopped 
 to talk upon the road ; perhaps James, with 
 his intuitive delicacy, saw that the quick-breath- 
 2
 
 14 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 ing and trembling boy that held the rope with 
 him had exhausted what little physical strength 
 he had. At any rate, he seemed to have be- 
 come the protector of his rival, and to care for 
 him almost as if he had been the pretty sister 
 of whom he was so fond, and whose clear, sil- 
 very laugh he could hear now, over and above 
 that of all the other noisy group. 
 
 " There, Willie," he said, as they reached the 
 liill, " you take my sled, and give Lina a ride ; 
 I am going down with little Tom Perkins ; he 
 has got a fast team there, and the hill is too 
 steep for him alone : he will break his neck as 
 sure as he tries it. Lina ! Lina ! " he called to 
 his sister, " come ! Willie Sumner is going to 
 draw you ; make haste." 
 
 Lina set her small tin-pail, which had con- 
 tained her dinner, but was emptied at recess, 
 down upon the snow, and, quite conscious of 
 being the envy of the girls, as she was to ride 
 with the hero of the day, lost no time in seat- 
 ing herself upon the sled behind Willie.
 
 THE RIVALS. 15 
 
 "Put your arms around me, and hold on 
 tight," whispered Willie ; " for we shall go like 
 split." Lina obeyed silently. If the truth must 
 be told, she had a slight feeling of awe as she 
 approached the boy who had been victorious 
 over James. James was so smart and so 
 good, everybody her father and mother and 
 everybody else said so ; what sort of a being 
 must he be who was better than James ? She 
 looked earnestly into Willie's face. The boy 
 saw that she was troubled, and whispered 
 again, 
 
 " Lina, I would have missed when James did, 
 but I couldn't, you see, without doing what was 
 not true. I am sorry, very sorry ; indeed, you 
 can't tell how badly I feel about it." 
 
 " James don't though," said Lina, looking at 
 her brother ; " he seems just as if he was glad 
 you had beaten him." 
 
 " That is what troubles me most ; he is so 
 generous and good, that he ought to be first in 
 every thing."
 
 16 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 " I love him best/ 7 said Lina, simply. 
 
 " So do I," answered Willie, the tears com- 
 ing into his eyes. " He is what I call a first- 
 rate fellow. I believe," he continued, lowering 
 his voice still more, " he is like George Wash- 
 ington when he was a boy. Don't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, or like Jesus when he went up to the 
 temple," added Lina, in the same tone. 
 
 " Oh ! no, Lina, not like Jesus, for he was a 
 sinless child, you know." 
 
 " So is James ; he never does what mother 
 tells him not to." 
 
 "But Jesus was was different, I am very 
 sure ; though I do love James dearly." 
 
 " Well, then," said Lina, " say George Wi sh- 
 ington, though he cut his father's fruit-tree once 
 with his little hatchet ; and that I am sure 
 James would not do." 
 
 Their further conversation was interrupted 
 by the starting of the sled. Away it flew as if 
 it were in close and intimate communion with 
 its precious freight, and bounded over the
 
 THE RIVALS. 17 
 
 glassy surface instinct with the life and joy of 
 the young hearts who gave to it so warm a 
 portion of their fresh, beating love. Beautiful 
 " Snowbird ! " it seemed to be bearing these 
 children on its outspread wings, skimming 
 along as gracefully as if it was in another and 
 lighter element, and was in reality the very 
 bird for whom it was named. 
 
 James passed them on their way down. He 
 could only smile and nod, for he was holding 
 fast on to little Tommy, and guiding his some- 
 what erratic " Comet," while with a skilful 
 toucli of his foot he sent the slight craft on, 
 on, until it passed every competitor, and came 
 first to the piece of ice which formed the goal. 
 " Comet " always " beat " when James was upon 
 it 
 
 " Can't you get there next time as soon as 
 James," whispered Lina, as if half ashamed of 
 the request 
 
 " No," said Willie, in the same tone" Comet 
 is faster than Snowbird, and James is stronger
 
 18 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 and can steer better than I ; but I will 
 take Tom here and you shall go on Comet 
 next time." 
 
 " I had rather stay here," said Lina, blushing : 
 " I like Snowbird best. It is the prettiest name, 
 don't you think so ? ' 
 
 A noble action, though it may not be pointed 
 out, or recognized in words, will always exert a 
 strong and active influence. No one had said, 
 " James Ashton is a generous, noble boy. See, 
 he has risen above all envy or jealousy, he re- 
 joices in .the success of his rival ;" but the boys 
 all /eft it. They knew that they had that day 
 been taught a lesson, more impressively than 
 by any other way. There was not one among 
 them, who would not have blushed to have 
 done anything mean or unkind : the whole 
 tone of feeling and action was elevated, by the 
 goodness and kindness of their handsome play- 
 fellow ; and as time after time they watched 
 his little sled shoot first upon the opposite 
 bank, they cheered and clapped him with as
 
 THE RIVALS. 19 
 
 much enthusiasm as they had, a half hour be- 
 fore, the successful grammarian. 
 
 Boys are quick to see and acknowledge 
 merit, whether of the head or heart. There is 
 no class of beiugs in the world, who more fully 
 concur in the justice and truth of the old adagfy 
 Win and Wear.
 
 n. 
 
 IT is not at all improbable that many mothers 
 in Belden's Falls looked up and down the 
 street several times for the truant children, 
 whose dinner was waiting for them, before 
 they made their appearance, and it would be 
 quite amusing if we could know the different 
 ways in which they were received ; but as we 
 cannot, we must be content to follow Willie, 
 as, having left Lina and the sled at James 
 Ashton's door, he turned off the main street to 
 the lane leading to his father's house. 
 
 The house was quite out of the village, a 
 small, one story brown house, without a 
 single thing to give it a homelike, or com- 
 fortable look. It had no yard, no barn or 
 woodshed, no neat wood-pile. An old oak 
 tree threw out its bare brawny arms over it, 
 
 (20)
 
 WILLIE'S HOME. 21 
 
 us if it would fain do its best to shelter and 
 protect it ; and the cheerful snow piled itself 
 up warmly and snugly above the loose foun- 
 dation stones, crept even to the low bedroom 
 window, and laid its white cheek against the 
 cracked panes. A feeble blue flame curled up 
 from the leaning chimney ; it was very pale 
 and flickering, and, as Willie's eye first fell 
 upon it, with his mind and nerves in a state of 
 unnatural excitement, he could not but think 
 how much it seemed like his own life, anxious to 
 ascend, yet faint, and falling back. " But see," 
 he said aloud, " it does not fall to the ground ; 
 it only sinks a little, spreads out, and rises 
 again : so can I, I will not be discouraged ; 
 down , down, but up , up, again." Willie stop- 
 ped: a sound came from the house, low, in- 
 distinct at first, like that of an animal who 
 was growling preparatory to a spring, but in- 
 creasing rapidly into a yell, at once human, 
 and yet so inhuman, that no one unaccustomed 
 to it could have imagined from what it could
 
 22 WIN vND WEAR. 
 
 have come. Willie knew it well it was the 
 shriek uttered by his little deaf and dumb 
 sister, when angry, or suffering. He quickened 
 his steps : there came another and another 
 scream. Hastily pushing open the door, the 
 boy's eyes fell upon a scene which, to the 
 latest hour of his life, he will never forget. 
 He seemed to take it all in, and comprehend it, 
 at his first glance. 
 
 In the middle of the room his father stood, 
 holding by her arm the deaf and dumb child, 
 now shaking her violently, and now striking 
 her with a large knotty stick which he had 
 caught up from the pile of wood by the stove. 
 Lotty, the child, writhed and shrieked between 
 each blow, and the blood began to crimson her 
 neck and hands as Willie entered. His mother 
 was hurrying with the baby and his two years 
 old brother out of the side door, to summon 
 that assistance which she knew full well she 
 was unable to give. A broken jug with its 
 spilled contents told the whole story. Lotty
 
 WILLIE'S HOME. 23 
 
 had unfortunately broken the article ; her 
 father had already taken too much of its con- 
 tents, and now was following the penalty. 
 
 " Let her alone, father ! " said Willie, at- 
 tempting to step between them. 
 
 The child recognized him with a cry of joy, 
 and held out her little bleeding hands towards 
 him. " Let Lotty alone, father 1 " repeated 
 Willie, more boldly, catching the stick as it waa 
 falling, and endeavoring to wrest it away. 
 
 " Out of the way," said his father, aiming at 
 him the blow intended for Lotty. 
 
 " Stop, father ! stop, or beat me, if you must 
 any one." 
 
 " Beat you ! that I will till I have pummelled 
 you to powder." Still keeping tight hold of 
 Lotty, the intoxicated father reeled after Willie, 
 who, by a series of dexterous dodges not only 
 escaped the blows, but drew his father nearer 
 the door. Opening it, he pointed out of it to 
 Lotty, and making a sudden and vigorous leap 
 upon the arm by which she was held, he sue-
 
 24 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 ceeded in loosening it, and the child sprang 
 away. Immediately shutting the door upon 
 her, Willie stood alone with his infuriated father, 
 and for one instant the thought of sudden 
 death flashed across him. " God help me, and 
 keep me for my mother's sake," prayed the boy 
 silently ; and as the thought passed through 
 his mind, a heavy blow almost deprived him 
 of sense. For a moment he was unconscious 
 of what was passing around him. When lie 
 recovered, his father was sitting down in a 
 chair, the stick had dropped from his hand, 
 and he was gazing sullenly at him. 
 
 The force of that last blow had partially 
 sobered him, or God had spoken to him in 
 one of those flashes of reason, which some- 
 times come athwart the bewildered mind. He 
 saw blood he knew it was from his son's head ; 
 and he knew further, that in some way he had 
 been the cause of it. Poor man ! he had " put 
 an enemy into his mouth to steal away his 
 Drains ;" he had no power of knowing exactly
 
 WILLIE'S HOME. 25 
 
 what had taken place any more than the stick 
 of wood which had fallen from hia hand ; he 
 looked as vacantly at his own child, as if he 
 had never known him ; he was not sufficiently 
 conscious to be then sorry for what he had done. 
 
 Willie moved softly to the fire ; the blood was 
 trickling slowly down his face, but he did not 
 feel it. There was a ringing sound in his ears, 
 and the objects in the room moved up and 
 down, as if they were all going out of the door. 
 He cowered down close to the stove ; he was 
 cold, very cold, and yet great drops of per- 
 spiration were mingling with the blood. He 
 covered his face with both his hands. How long 
 he sat there he could never tell ; he was first 
 aroused by a gentle hand lifting him up. 
 
 " Willie," his mother said, " are you much 
 hurt ? speak to me, my boy." 
 
 "No, mother," said he, instantly rousing 
 himself ; " I am not hurt at all, only I was 
 cold and tired, and sat down to rest." 
 
 With some fresh water his mother washed 
 3
 
 26 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 away the dried blood, and, parting his fair hair 
 from off his forehead, kissed him. "Poor 
 Willie ! " she said, tenderly, " mother is very 
 sorry for her boy." 
 
 " Where is Lotty ? " said Willie, starting up. 
 
 "Softly," said his mother, pointing to his 
 father, who with his head upon the table was 
 sleeping soundly " I thought you had hidden 
 her away." 
 
 " No, I put her out of the door ; where can 
 she be ? I will go and see ! " 
 
 As he tried to stand, he reeled the blow 
 had been very severe ; he had not quite recover- 
 ed. His mother led him to the door ; she knew 
 the fresh air would restore him, and so it did, 
 though it cut him through and through almost 
 like a knife. Confused as he was, he began to 
 call " Lotty ! " forgetting that she could not 
 hear ; but, suddenly recollecting, he looked 
 around for her in every direction. There was 
 no object near, by which she could conceal 
 herself. Up and dc wn, as far as he could see,
 
 WILLIE'S HOME. 27 
 
 lay tiie cold snow, with hardly a tree or shrub to 
 break its glittering surface. " Lotty ! Lotty ! ; ' 
 he called again, alarmed at the stillness which 
 seeuied to have fallen over every thing, and 
 ansrious to break it, if it was so uselessly. 
 " Lotty ! where are you ? Come home ; there 
 is no danger now." 
 
 Not a sound in reply. Hesitating for an 
 instant which way to turn, he decided at last 
 that Lotty was accustomed to go to the village, 
 when allowed to go out at all, and thither he 
 turned to follow her. As he went on, he re- 
 membered how wholly unprotected she was 
 not the slightest covering, and the blood on 
 her neck and hands. 
 
 " She will die she will die," he screamed, 
 as he rapidly repeated all these circumstances 
 to himself ; and, as if new life was given to 
 him by the thought, he almost flew along the 
 road to the nearest house. As he approached 
 It, a new terror seized the boy. 
 
 So far, during his father's downward course,
 
 28 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 with the self-respect inherent to delicate minds, 
 his mother and himself had taken every pains 
 to conceal both his conduct and their own suf- 
 ferings from their neighbors. Never before 
 had he so far forgotten himself as to inflict 
 personal violence upon them ; and now, by to- 
 day's outrage, the whole secret must be reveal- 
 ed. Years of patient endurance were all in 
 vain ; and this confession, forced out by his own 
 and Lotty's looks, oh! the proud, sensitive 
 child felt that he would rather die than make. 
 He could have borne any trial save this ; but 
 poor, helpless Lotty ! he could not let her suffer. 
 No one can ever know the amount of courage 
 which it required for Willie to knock at this 
 neighbor's door. A schoolmate opened it ; he 
 noticed nothing unusual in Willie's looks so 
 the boy was almost relieved to hear him say 
 that Lotty had not been there, or passed by 
 that way, for he had been out on the street 
 until that very minute, having come in to 
 warm himself.
 
 WILLIE'S HOME. 29 
 
 Willie retraced his steps ; he must consult 
 with his mother. Every part of his progress 
 home was marked with such thoughts and res- 
 olutions as had never been his before. He 
 had not a vestige of the ambition which so 
 few hours before had made him liken himself to 
 the curling smoke. He felt many years older, 
 as if upon him, a boy of ten, had suddenly de- 
 volved the care of his mother, his deaf and 
 dumb sister, his baby sister, and even Warren, 
 though he was the sturdiest of them all. " I 
 will consult with mother." These few words 
 told of the commencement of a new epoch in 
 the child's life. They seemed to put childhood 
 behind him, and to make him at once, however 
 prematurely, a man, so Willie thought ; and 
 reverently, as if starting back from this shadow 
 of coming manhood, he closed his eyes, and 
 repeated again that short prayer, so familiar 
 to the troubled heart " God help me." 
 
 Mrs. Sumner was more alarmed than Willie, 
 rhen she saw him returning without Lotty. 
 3*
 
 30 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 From her birth the child had been to her such 
 a constant source of care and anxiety, that the 
 dread of an accident had become almost in- 
 stinctive, and the absence of Lotty, even for a 
 few moments from her sight, was always ac- 
 companied by sad forebodings. When she left 
 the house to secure the safety of her other 
 children, she had trusted to the gentleness 
 which, after the first burst of passion, had never 
 failed to come to the father for this stricken 
 one, to secure Lotty from any real injury ; and 
 this she knew, in his infuriated state, she could 
 not rely upon for her other children, should 
 any thing occur to divert his attention from 
 her to them. The child had never been far 
 from home, and a constitutional timidity aided 
 her mother in keeping her, even in the most 
 tempting summer-time, within sight of the 
 house ; therefore Mrs. Sumner felt sure her 
 ignorance of the roads would prevent her going 
 to any distance, and, putting her baby into bed, 
 with a trembling dread as to what might hap-
 
 WILLIE'S HOME. 31 
 
 pen to the other children during her absence, 
 she prepared hastily to go with Willie. They 
 looked behind every object that rose above 
 the surface of the ground ; even a little bank 
 of snow,' which could scarcely have concealed 
 the child, was carefully searched. And as the 
 distance from home increased, and all was 
 silent and desolate, Willie drew nearer to his 
 mother, and his courage died away with every 
 fresh failure. They had both hoped that Lotty 
 had secreted herself in the pine woods which was 
 a mile before them, on the same road. How 
 much she must have suffered from the cold, in 
 order to reach this place, they dared not think. 
 On, on they went, Lotty's mother, with the 
 image of a perishing child beckoning her for- 
 ward, and the two little ones, left to the mercy 
 of an intoxicated father, calling her back. 
 
 That was a weary mile to the woods. Again 
 and again they searched, in the half-beaten snow 
 road, for the print of the child's foot ; but the 
 hard surface retained no mark, and if they
 
 32 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 were wrong in the direction they had taken, 
 they had not at least the misery of continually 
 knowing it. How drearily those old pines 
 groaned and shivered as they approached 
 them ! It seemed to the mother like a* wail for 
 her lost child ; and, as they left the path, and, 
 taking opposite directions, began to look be- 
 hind every tree and shrub, the cracking of 
 the stiffened limbs and the fall of a dried cone 
 heavily upon the snow made them often stop, 
 and call to each other with a thrill of joy, 
 sure that the lost was found! A short cir- 
 cuit brought them out about a quarter of a 
 mile deeper into the woods together ; and, with 
 a calmness which Willie never forgot, his 
 mother told him she " could not any longer re- 
 main away from home, and that he had better 
 go to the village for help." 
 
 " Then I must tell them of father," said Wil- 
 lie, dropping his head ; " every one will ask 
 how Lotty came away from home." 
 
 " Do your duty, my boy," said bis mother,
 
 WILLIE'S HOME. 35j 
 
 gently, "and trust God with the rest. Tell 
 the truth, if you are asked ; it is no longer in 
 our power to shield your father*" 
 
 Quickly retracing her steps, Mrs, Sumner 
 almost feared to enter the house. It was still 
 as death as she opened the door, but one look 
 reassured her. Still leaning on his arms at 
 the table, her husband slept soundly, and the 
 children had also both fallen asleep. God 
 had heard her prayer, and had watched over 
 the helpless, 
 
 Willie, left alone, became almost frantic, 
 he felt so sure that Lo.tty would die before he 
 could go to the village and return* And then, 
 to whom should he go ? His mother had not 
 said : he. must decide for himself. It is no won' 
 der that the first person he thought of was 
 James Ash ton ; but James was -only a boy j 
 what could he do? He would help him m 
 some way, he felt sure ; so, without any fur- 
 ther hesitation, he started on a run for Mr. 
 Ashton's.
 
 34 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 Before he reached the village he came in 
 sight of a boy dragging his sled. "Willie's first 
 impulse was to turn away to avoid the meet- 
 ing, but that he could not do without losing 
 time. No one \vho has not been similarly tried 
 can tell what an effort of moral courage it re- 
 quired tc make this first confession, for he had 
 no idea that his bruised face and stained coat 
 would escape the notice of the boy. One mo- 
 ment he wavered, and his troubled heart sent 
 forth a cry of agony, which God was listening 
 to hear. " Honor thy father." Long ago God 
 had commanded it, and now He saw, and knew, 
 that this struggle in the child was because he 
 could not " honor" his father as he wished. It 
 is difficult for us to realize how constantly God 
 is with us ; how, looking beyond what we say, 
 or what perhaps our lips refuse to utter, He 
 reads deep in our hearts all those thoughts 
 and feelings which no human eye has ever dis- 
 cerned. Willie hardly thought of God at 
 this moment ; he thought of his father, as he
 
 WILLIE'S HOME. 35 
 
 was years ago ; he had an indescribable longing 
 to keep from the knowledge of every one how 
 he erred, how cruel and wicked he had be- 
 come ; but he walked steadily on, and, as he 
 came nearer the boy, he heard his own name 
 shouted loudly. "Willie! Willie Sumner! 
 Come here, quick. You don't know what I 
 have found ! " 
 
 He recognized the voice as James's, and fol- 
 lowing at once came another sound : never had 
 there been so much music in it before ; it was 
 Lotty's shrill voice, uttering, in her own unin- 
 telligible language, her glad welcome. 
 
 Seated upon James's sled, that same Snow- 
 bird, sat Lotty, so nicely and warmly wrapped 
 up in some of Lina's clothes, that, notwithstand- 
 ing the voice, Willie had to peep several 
 times under the hood to be sure the bright, 
 happy face was indeed that of his deaf and 
 dumb sister. 
 
 A pair of warm red mittens covered her 
 hands. She held up one for Willie to admire
 
 36 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 its bright color ; and then the other liaLd, with 
 a look of infinite childish delight, to show a 
 large slice of cake with which Mrs. Ashton 
 had provided her. The sight of the food re- 
 minded Willie that he had eaten nothing since 
 morning. He involuntarily made a movement 
 to break a piece from off it, for his long, cold 
 walk had given him a keen appetite, although 
 he had not had time to think of it before. Lotty 
 saw it, and eagerly held it out to him ; but 
 Willie, remembering himself, kissed his hand 
 to her, his usual way of thanking her, and 
 resolutely turned from the tempting morsel. 
 
 Probably more of Mr. Sumner's real situa- 
 tion was known to the villagers than his own 
 family were aware, for, to Willie's inexpressi- 
 ble relief, James made no inquiries ; he only 
 said, " that his father had met Lotty on the road 
 to Chelten, and had taken her into his sleigh 
 and brought her to his mother. His mother, 
 knowing that Mrs. Sumner would be anxious 
 about her, had only kept her long enough to
 
 MILLIE'S HOME. 37 
 
 warm 1 er and put some of Liua's clothes on 
 her ; that Lotty had been a very good child, 
 had not cried at all when his mother washed 
 her, though though," James was going to say, 
 " though the blood had been very stiffly con- 
 gealed by the long exposure to the cold ; " but 
 his quick feelings told him that it was better 
 not to mention the injury, so he finished his sen- 
 tence with, " though she was very cold indeed." 
 
 Lotty's eye watched the expression of the 
 boy's face very intently, as they stood talking 
 together. She seemed hardly to know wheu'r 
 she had done right or wrong, for God had 
 given to this afflicted child a keen sensibility 
 to the moral value of an act, which, after all, 
 was destined to be a surer guide to her than 
 the light of revelation, and the constant line 
 upon line and precept upon precept, are to many 
 who can both hear and speak. 
 
 She watched the shade steal off from Willie's 
 face ; she saw a real smile light it up ; and then 
 once more she uttered that strange, wild snout 
 4
 
 38 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 of joy, and, jumping off from the sled, insisted 
 upon putting all her slice of cake into the 
 hands of the hungry boy. 
 
 " Lotty brought that for you," said James, 
 the tears actually coming into his eyes as he 
 saw Willie striving to keep back the hunger 
 which the food again made almost uncontrolla- 
 ble. " Mother gave her a nice lunch ; she ate 
 all she could then mother sent this to you." 
 
 "Thank you," said Willie, breaking off a 
 little piece, and carrying it to his mouth as 
 iLiiidently as if he were suddenly placed at a 
 table with a princess ; " the truth is, I am very 
 .hungry, for I have not eaten a mouthful since 
 long before daylight this morning, and I could 
 eat a nail." 
 
 " Try an apple first, then," said James, tak- 
 ing a large, rosy-cheeked one from his pocket. 
 " Here is a pair of them for you. I put in this 
 very one, thinking you might like to have it 
 at recess ; it's more juicy than a nail, at least." 
 
 When Lotty saw the apples, and Willie
 
 WILLIE'S HOME. 39 
 
 really eating, first a mouthful of one, and then 
 a mouthful of the cake, she uttered a series of 
 those joyful sounds, and ended by clapping 
 her hands. 
 
 " That's her way," said Willie, " when she is 
 too happy to laugh. What a darling she is. 
 Do you know, James ? I think I love her a hun- 
 dred times better than I should if she could 
 talk. She says so much without ever speaking 
 a word." 
 
 James looked at her animated face with al- 
 most as much pleasure as Willie. He had 
 never seen so much of her before. Children 
 generally have a species of awe for one upon 
 whom God has lain His hand, which keeps them 
 from a very intimate approach ; and this deaf 
 and dumb child, with her eager, piercing look, 
 seemed almost to him like an angel whom God 
 had sent to watch, and report to Him how other 
 children behaved. She had never appeared so 
 much like a human child to him as she did now, 
 and he did not wonder that Willie loved her.
 
 iO WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 It must not "be supposed that the boys stood 
 still while Willie ate his opportune luncheon ; 
 they drew the sled, upon which Lotty had seated 
 herself again, as fast as they could walk, to- 
 ward? her home. And some time before they 
 reached it, Mrs. Sumner, to her inexpressible 
 relief, saw them, and divined the whole. 
 
 James did not quite like to approach very 
 near the house, so, as they came to a turn in the 
 road, he said, " Now, Willie, if you will lead 
 Lotty home, I will run to- school. I shall just 
 have time,, if I am quick." 
 
 How thoughtful James was !; Willie did 
 not say so ; but this gentle kindness of the rich 
 boy was one of the beautiful gifts of God, 
 which He sent to compensate the child for the 
 sufferings which must attend his lot. Willie 
 did not think of all this ; James did not even 
 know it. But when the boys parted, James 
 carried with him the buoyant, happy feelings 
 which always remain after having done a kind 
 thing kindly j and Willie went back to his
 
 WILLIE'S HOME. 41 
 
 desolate home with more courage, and more 
 strength to endure. 
 
 He could not go to school that afternoon. 
 He felt tired, and almost sick ; and besides, he 
 began to find little frail child that he was ! 
 that his presence was a protection to his moth- 
 er. He hardly remembered the examination, 
 and the long review lesson in spelling and 
 arithmetic, which was to come off this after- 
 noon. He had much to do at home : and, after 
 all, it is the performance of a duty, well, cheer- 
 fully, thoroughly, even if this duty is not the 
 most desirable or if, by many plausible ex- 
 cuses, another could be made to take its place ; 
 still, as there can be but one right thing re- 
 quired of us at a time, it is attention to this 
 which never fails to bring its reward. This is 
 the way, and the only way, to win the laurel ; 
 and this, too, is the only course by which we 
 can fit ourselves so to wear it, that we can 
 feel sure it is ours, and be secure from the 
 envy or ill will which is so often the acconv 
 4*
 
 12 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 paniment of success, because others dispute our 
 claim as founded not in right, but originating 
 for the most part in some species of fraud or 
 deception. Willie was, at present, in no dan 
 ger of this.
 
 m. 
 
 fPHE school in Belden's Falls occupied a posi- 
 -*- tion midway between a district, and a high 
 school. That is, much pain-s was taken to secure 
 competent teachers, and some boys had gone 
 from there directly to college. 
 
 This advance beyond common schools was 
 owing mainly to the exertions of Mr. Ashton, 
 who, not being able to support a teacher exclu- 
 sively for his own children, and yet unwilling 
 to send them, young as they were, away from 
 home, did the best thing he could paid a 
 larger sum than any one else toward the sup- 
 port of the school and secured a teacher 
 entirely competent. Squire Ashton, as the 
 villagers called him, was the great man of the 
 place. He was not a lawyer, as his title would 
 imply, but was engaged ii extensive manufac-
 
 44 tfIN AND WEAK. 
 
 hiring interests ; and had come to Belden's 
 Falls to take advantage of a fine water-power, 
 which accidentally came to. his knowledge. It 
 was all an experiment ; but as he was one of 
 those men who unite goodness and integrity 
 with activity and sound business capacity, his 
 residence among them began soon to show it- 
 self in the thrift and increasing intelligence 
 of the towns-people. They had formerly 
 preaching only occasionally in their school- 
 house. One of the first things Mr. Ashton 
 did, after selecting the site for his mill, was to 
 choose one for a church, and the two buildings 
 went up almost stone by stone. 
 
 " God would, for sartin, bless that ere man," 
 old Mrs. Thomson said, " for he sarved Him> 
 as well as mammon ; and this ere mill would 
 stand and prosper as long as the airth lasted, 
 for it had the blessing." 
 
 It seemed as if the good lady's prediction 
 was literally fulfilled ; for everything Mr. 
 Ashton touched, prospered. He found the
 
 THE EXAMINATION. 46 
 
 heart of the people, and they served him faith- 
 fully. At the date of our story there were 
 two large mills in successful operation. Small, 
 neat houses had been built, until the population 
 had doubled to fill them. Nice new stores 
 carried on quite an enterprising competition. 
 The minister " the best man the world ever 
 saw," his people said had a pretty little par- 
 sonage, a competent support, and a loving and 
 attentive people. The old school-house had 
 long since been moved away, and a neat new 
 building was always crowded with its young 
 occupants. So much interest was felt in it, that 
 the "Examination" was considered the event 
 of the year, and the preparation for it a matter 
 of the greatest importance. It very soon be- 
 came rumored about that Willie Sumner was 
 likely to prove the best scholar for this year ; 
 and the intelligence was received with much 
 pleasure, for the whole tone of thought and 
 feeling in the town had become elevated in 
 proportion as it came under the immediate
 
 46 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 influence of Mr. Ashtcu. And people, who 
 had known Willie's parents in the days of 
 their prosperity, were glad of anything which 
 could tend to alleviate their situation now. 
 
 Mr. Sumner had come to settle in Belden'a 
 Falls fifteen years ago ; he had married the 
 youngest child of their old minister. She had 
 been an. only and a very darling child, and 
 seemed, in her gentle loveliness, to belong to 
 the whole town. Mr. Sumner was fine-looking, 
 gentlemanly, and talented. Every one thought 
 it a good match no wonder the young lady 
 did herself, for surely, never was promise 
 given of greater happiness. But Mr. Sumner 
 was active, and the people in Belden's Falls 
 were not quarrelsome ; there was very little 
 for him to do there. He gradually became 
 idle, and idleness, in man or boy, is the root 
 of all evil. Bad habits followed naturally, and, 
 going from bad to worse, business, what little 
 he had, failed. Then came straitened circum- 
 stances, poverty, and at last absolute want.
 
 THE EXAMINATION. 47 
 
 Mr. Ashton extended his helping hand to 
 him, and tried to save him ; but what, beside 
 the grace of God, can arrest a person who 
 has not the strength to save himself? 
 
 Mr. Simmer moved out from the village. He 
 rapidly lost his self-respect, and now did noth- 
 ing but an occasional piece of law business, 
 which Mr. Ashton pressed upon him in order 
 that his family might not perish, or come upon 
 the town. "Ah ! God's hand is upon them," 
 the good villagers said. "We are glad our 
 worthy old minister has gone to his rest ; it 
 would well-nigh have broken his heart to see 
 this lamb of his flock suffering so, and that 
 deaf and dumb child too. It never rains but 
 it pours, and the mother was a good little 
 thing ; we all remember her when she was as 
 sweet as a rose." 
 
 It was therefore now a species of compensa- 
 tion, over which every one rejoiced, to have 
 Willie doing so well ; and many a mother felt 
 that she could give up that first place for her
 
 48 WIN AND WEAK. 
 
 own boy with real pleasure, if it only might 
 come to Willie Sumner. 
 
 Willie had no thoughts of the victory. He 
 had studied well, because his mother had al- 
 ways taught him to do what he did with his 
 whole Lrjart ; and then, his heart was in his 
 books, for he often felt sure that he had rather 
 read, and get a good hard lesson, than do 
 any thing else in the world. Perhaps he 
 might have been more playful if he had had a 
 happier life ; but now, care and sorrow had 
 been his companions from his cradle, and it 
 is hard for even a child to sport with such 
 playfellows. 
 
 He was a quiet, gentle, sad little boy, but 
 all his schoolfellows loved him. He was mod- 
 est and retiring ; and, if he were at the head 
 of his class, put on no airs of superiority or 
 self-importance. There was another reason 
 why Willie was generally beloved : his mates 
 did not know it ; and they would, many of them, 
 scarcely have comprehended it if they had.
 
 THE EXAMINATION. 49 
 
 His mother had always said to him, since his 
 earliest remembrance, "My son, God is not 
 going to give you many good things in this 
 life ; you must begin early to lay up for your- 
 self treasures in another, and then it will be 
 of very little importance what happens to you 
 here." She not only gave Willie this gen- 
 eral direction, but she strove to put it for him 
 into practical, every-day use. In what man- 
 ner she did this the progress of our story will 
 show. She had brought away from her Chris- 
 tian home a Christian heart ; if it had not 
 been for this, it seemed to her that she should 
 have prayed to lay down her burdens long ago. 
 Perhaps there was not in Belden's Falls a 
 parent who felt less solicitude for Willie's suc- 
 cess at the coming examination than she did 
 herself. So often the praise which is so lav- 
 ishly bestowed at such a time is apt to result 
 in injury to the child, that she dreaded more 
 than she coveted it " Keep my precious boy 
 from temptation," was her daily prayer. 
 5
 
 50 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 It was a bright sparkling day when the bell 
 from the meeting-house announced to the people 
 that the examination was to take place. There 
 was no room for it in the school-house every 
 seat was occupied by scholars. Even the church 
 was crowded ; and many a little heart beat 
 fast, as, dressed in holiday attire, the solem- 
 nity and awe belonging to the church were 
 added to the dread of speaking where there were 
 so many to hear, and the minister and Mr. 
 Ashton, too ! 
 
 Many small feet made divers paths out of 
 the beaten road as they flew along, to see " how 
 it would seem " in that big church ; and little 
 red fingers, that had never approached the con- 
 secrated stove, held themselves close up to it 
 now, with a kind of wonder at finding it emit- 
 ted precisely the same kind of heat which 
 theirs did at home, and in due time actually 
 restored warmth and circulation. 
 
 Willie's mother had, with much care and 
 labor, prepared him a new suit, or rather an
 
 THE EXAMINATION. 51 
 
 old suit turned, and made " as good as new." 
 Willie surveyed it with great sa.isfaction. 
 He, boy as he was, had cast many an anxious 
 thought to the patches on his clothes : he loved 
 dearly to be neat and clean ; he sometimes 
 thought he loved James Ashton better for his 
 trim, stylish clothes. He was perfectly famil- 
 iar with every style of button that adorned 
 them. There was a propriety and elegance 
 in good clothes, which suited the delicacy and 
 refinement of the boy's natural taste. He 
 could not be said positively to suffer from his 
 own shabby condition, but he regarded it as a 
 form of trial, and used often, in his simple 
 boy-prayers, to ask God to take away his 
 proud heart, and make him willing to bear 
 cheerfully precisely the lot which He had seen 
 best to appoint him. This new suit of clothes, 
 coming so unexpectedly how gratefully it made 
 his heart beat ! Not a child among all those 
 neatly-dressed children, to whom their new 
 clothes gave one half the real pleasure ! Per
 
 52 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 haps there was not another who, after being 
 all ready to go, stole softly to his chamber, 
 and, kneeling down by the side of his bed, with 
 tears starting from his- eyes, thanked God for 
 being so very kind to him, and asked for abil- 
 ity to do well at school, and help to make, by 
 and by, a good, useful man. 
 
 Mrs. Sumiier stood at the door, and watched 
 her boy until he was lost to her sight ; then, 
 commending him to God, she felt willing to 
 leave him there. Willie was the only child 
 whose parents were not present ; it may be, the 
 only one who went thither followed by his 
 mother's prayer. What an unusual sound that 
 hum of children's voices was, as he opened the 
 large outer-door ! and how eagerly they wel- 
 comed him! any one might have seen that 
 Willie was a favorite. They immediately 
 made a place for him on the bench nearest the 
 stove. It was by Lina ; and as Willie took it, 
 Lina whispered to him " What a pretty new 
 coat that is,Willie ; you look as neat as a pin."
 
 THE EXAMINATION. 53 
 
 Mr. Lane soon called the children to order r 
 
 their several seats were given them, and every 
 pains was taken, in the arrangement, to make 
 the examination as impartial as possible. 
 
 At the appointed hour the friends began to 
 arrive. James Ashton and Benjamin True 
 acted as ushers. Every thing was quiet and 
 orderly ; for all had been arranged before- 
 hand, and this saves confusion at any time. 
 " Singing, by the choir ! " and sweet singing it 
 was, for who ever heard an unmusical child's 
 voice, unless it was when the voice was raised 
 in anger ? Then the clergyman offered a 
 prayer ; and then the trembling little scholars 
 were called upon to make their first essay. 
 This was not one of Willie's classes. He was 
 glad, for he was more timid than most children, 
 and felt a shy desire to become familiar with 
 the looks of the audience before he spoke. All 
 the faces appeared kind, happy, and pleased ; 
 he gradually began to lose his dread of them, 
 and when his turn came, was in perfect read- 
 5*
 
 54 WIN AND WEAK. 
 
 mess. There was a slight movement among 
 the spectators as he took his place upon the 
 stage. He was now only to take part in a 
 dialogue ; and as it was in itself a sprightly 
 thing, the boys entered fully into the spirit of 
 it, and did admirably by forgetting that it was 
 not a reality. After this came the examination 
 in arithmetic. Willie knew that he understood 
 it thoroughly, as far as he had gone, therefore 
 performed his part perfectly ; so did James 
 Ashton, and two others : the only difference 
 was, that Willie was so small and delicate, the 
 listeners would not make up their minds to 
 expect as much from him. 
 
 " I never heard a better recitation," said Mr. 
 Ashton, as the class took their seats. " Mr. 
 Lane, your scholars do you much credit." 
 
 Other classes were equally satisfactory. It 
 was now to that spelling-match to which all 
 looked forward with such interest; that, 
 alone, must decide the fate of the day. 
 
 The school was equally divided into two
 
 THE EXAMINATION. 55 
 
 parts, both for number and scholarship. They 
 were arranged, at first, according to ages, but 
 were to go up, or down, as they should fail or 
 succeed. The words were given by each child 
 to his opposite in the other class, and no one 
 had interfered in the selection of the words ; 
 indeed, Mr. Lane did not know what they 
 were. 
 
 In this arrangement James Ashton came 
 very near the head, and Willie very near the 
 foot of the contending parties. Willie's class 
 felt troubled, and many sly whispers expressed 
 the wish that he would go up. 
 
 " He will get there fast enough," said one of 
 the boys ; " let him alone ! " 
 
 It was an equal division, and the words flew 
 from side to side like balls of fire, carrying 
 with them smiles and nods, and half-moving 
 lips longing to tell, for fear the speller should 
 make a mistake. But after a few minutes the 
 mistakes began to come, and Willie made a 
 few moves towards the head ; so did James.
 
 56 WIN AND WEAK. 
 
 But that long row above Willie ! why, as he 
 tried to look up, it almost seemed to him as if 
 he could hardly number the little feet that 
 stood so stoutly ranged above him. The more 
 difficult the words, the better the children spell- 
 ed them : the truth was, they had fully pre- 
 pared themselves on such words as " Nebuchad- 
 nezzar," and " phthisic," and were not to be 
 caught. At length, a boy on James's side 
 gave out the word " necessary." The child to 
 whom it was given, failed ; so did the next, 
 and the next, until a general panic seemed 
 about to 'take place. 
 
 " Keep cool," said Mr. Lane, pleasantly ; 
 " any one of you who have missed that word 
 would be able, by this time, I have not a doubt 
 to spell it correctly. Don't be afraid of the 
 Ss they won't hurt you if you get enough of 
 them ! " 
 
 Everybody laughed at the number which the 
 next child used, " nessessary," she said out, 
 very bravely.
 
 THE EXAMINATION. 57 
 
 "Not quite, Miss Emma you are a little too 
 lavish ; be careful the next." 
 
 It was in vain ; down, down it went the 
 last few above Willie hardly daring to make 
 the effort aloud. 
 
 Now for Willie : it would be no wonder if 
 the boy had lost the right way among so 
 many wrong ; but no there it is, spelt loudly, 
 clearly, and correctly. How the children on 
 both sides clapped ! even the spectators could 
 hardly restrain the same expression of sym- 
 pathy. Mr. Lane looked troubled, and soon 
 all was still again. 
 
 In the changes of the class Lina was opposite 
 Willie. She had stood her ground, had never 
 missed : and now it was Willie's turn to give 
 her the word. 
 
 " Conscience," said Willie, in his confusion, 
 i 
 
 hardly being aware to whom he was giving 
 the word. 
 
 Lina attempted it, but the child was excited 
 with the success of Willie ; she was thinking
 
 58 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 much more of him, than of her word ; she 
 hesitated, and Willie saw who was his an- 
 tagonist. He immediately held up his hand. 
 
 " Mr. Lane ! if you please, may I give another 
 word ? that is too hard for such a little girl." 
 
 " Not fair not fair," said several voices. 
 
 " You hear, Willie the children decide for 
 me. They say it would not be fair." 
 
 " But she is so young," persisted Willie. 
 
 " She has not missed yet, if she is young," 
 said Mr. Lane, encouragingly. " ' Conscience/ 
 Lina don't be frightened ; show Willie you 
 are no baby." 
 
 But Lina had not recovered herself, indeed 
 she had had little chance, with the attention of 
 the "whole school so directed towards her. She 
 fairly missed the word, and lost her place. 
 But as she went down, witli a generosity like 
 her brother's, she whispered to Willie " Never 
 mind, Willie ; you did not mean to make me 
 miss, you could not help it don't care about 
 it now."
 
 THE EXAMINATION. 59 
 
 But Willie did care. It seemed to him that, 
 excited by his own success, he had been thought- 
 less and careless. He would rather at that 
 instant have put Lina back in her place, then 
 gone to the head of his side himself. But he 
 saw there was no help for it now ; so he tried 
 to forget it in the excitement of the scene. All 
 the time, however, instead of watching the pro- 
 gress of the words, he was watching Lina, 
 longing to say to her how sorry he was, and 
 how unpleasantly he felt. He almost missed 
 his next word, really the whole class gave him 
 up, when they saw how he wavered, but he 
 recovered himself; and as Lina seemed not 
 cast down by her failure, his interest began to 
 revive in the result. 
 
 James had almost reached the head ; but 
 there was a formidable array of bright boots 
 between Willie and that goal. He did not 
 even hope to reach it ; but he felt so glad to 
 see James mounting so fast, that it quite 
 counterbalanced his grief at Lina's failure,
 
 60 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 particularly as lie saw how pleased she looked 
 at every fresh success of his own. 
 
 The trial was long, there were so many 
 children, but at last the younger grew tired ; 
 and Mr. Lane began to dismiss those who had 
 missed three times, to their seats. In this 
 way he soon reduced his number, until only 
 four remained on either side, James and 
 Willie among them. As the number lessened, 
 the excitement increased. One of the four 
 missed, then another ; now no one remained 
 but Willie and Jaines. Who, as they saw the 
 affectionate looks which they cast toward each 
 other, would have suspected that they were 
 rivals? Certainly there was no rivalry in 
 their hearts ; and they would probably have 
 given to each other such easy words, that the 
 children who had taken their seats would 
 hardly have felt that the game was continued 
 fairly : but Mr. Lane took the matter into his 
 own hands, and himself gave out the spelling. 
 Every one thought it most impartially done ;
 
 THE EXAMINATION. 61 
 
 but the clock struck twelve, and the regular 
 country people began to look at its hands 
 just as often as at the combatants : still neither 
 of them missed. 
 
 " You see, gentlemen and ladies," said 
 Mr. Lane, stopping soon after twelve, " the 
 game seems to be a drawn one. I might spell 
 these boys on until night without their miss- 
 ing, and they may fail on the very next trial ; 
 I hardly know what to do." 
 
 " Give them," said Mr. Ashton, " six more 
 words apiece, and then stop." 
 
 So it was. Six more words were quickly 
 and correctly spelt, and the boys were dis- 
 missed ; but before James took his seat, he 
 held up his hand. He evidently had something 
 he wished very much to say. Mr. Lane gave 
 him leave. 
 
 "I think, Mr. Lane," he said, cheerfully, 
 " there is no doubt who has been conqueror. 
 I was more than half way up, on account 
 of my being older than Willie ; and as he
 
 62 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 made his way from the foot nearly, it is only 
 fair to say that he has done the best. Don't 
 you see, Mr. Lane, how plain it is ? 
 
 " There is something in what you say, most 
 certainly, James," said Mr. Lane, his eye 
 sparkling with pleasure. " You had the ad- 
 vantage in the start ; but if you had been last, 
 you would quite as likely have ended at the 
 head." 
 
 " There would have been a great many more 
 chances for my not being there," continued 
 James, " and at any rate, everybody must see 
 that it is not quite fair, for Willie has in truth 
 done better than I have." 
 
 " It is difficult, I acknowledge, to decide," 
 said Mr. Lane. " I will therefore pass the de- 
 cision of the case from myself, to our minister 
 and Mr. Ashton, who, although he is your 
 own father, will, we all feel sure, be as im- 
 partial toward you, as toward Willie." 
 
 : ' Let me speak first," said Willie, without 
 waiting for the form of raising his hand. " I
 
 THE EXAMINATION. b3 
 
 almost missed once. However far down I may 
 have been in my class, this more than makes 
 up. James never even hesitated. It seems to 
 me there is no doubt who has done best." 
 
 A murmur of pleasure passed through the 
 house, like a ray of sunshine ; and the minister 
 and Mr. Ashton, with faces as radiant as the 
 others, stepped aside to consult together a few 
 minutes. Mr. Ross, the minister, was evidently 
 congratulating James's father on the noble be- 
 havior of his son ; for Mr. Ash ton's eyes sought 
 him out, and rested on him for an instant with 
 a peculiar fondness. They however quickly 
 came to their decision. They thought Willie 
 right. His hesitation had counterbalanced 
 James's position. They thought the boys equally 
 deserving of praise. And so they were all 
 dismissed and returned home, all but the chil- 
 dren who were to stay at noon ; and they soon 
 gathered around the stove, while they de 
 voured the contents of their little tin-pails, 
 eagerly discussing the events of the morning.
 
 64 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 One child peeped into Willie's pail. " Why," 
 said she, pityingly, " you have only a piece of 
 bread, no cake, or pie, or even apple ; here, 
 take half of mine ; " and then other hands 
 drew out their choicest bits, and " Here, Willie, 
 take mine, please do, mine is the best," was 
 repeated by many eager voices. Willie refused 
 them all. He was accustomed to plain fare ; 
 and, moreover, he felt tired, very tired, and 
 longed to hide away somewhere and go to 
 sleep. 
 
 The afternoon exercises were very similar 
 to the morning, only much shorter ; and, when 
 all was over, Mr. Ashton, on behalf of the 
 school committee, made a short address to the 
 assembly. He said he had attended many ex- 
 aminations, but never one where everything 
 had proceeded with such perfect, order and 
 fairness ; that it was unrivalled for the prompt- 
 ness and accuracy of its recitations. It had 
 been, in every respect, highly creditable to both 
 teacher and scholar.
 
 THE EXAMINATION, 65 
 
 Mr. Ross said he could not forbear alluding 
 to the behavior of the two boys, James Ashton 
 and William Sumner. He did not believe in 
 flattering either parents or children, but he 
 must say he thought they had set an example 
 of true manliness, which it would be well for 
 all, whether old or young, to imitate. He 
 should not go into particulars; there were 
 some things which were weakened by being 
 too accurately denned. He was sure the audi- 
 ence understood him perfectly. He would only 
 repeat the adage which, when he was a school- 
 boy himself, he had so often written in his copy 
 book, " Win and Wear" He trusted his hear- 
 ers would all make the practical application 
 for themselves. 
 
 James and Willie were the only two among 
 the whole who did not perfectly understand 
 him, though Willie wondered much over it as 
 he ran home, glad the examination was over, 
 glad, too, of a vacation in which he might help 
 his mother. 
 6*
 
 IV. 
 
 ans for 
 
 ii QOMETHING- must be done for that boy," 
 
 ^ said Mr. Ashton to His wife, the night 
 after the examination. I wish I knew just 
 what would be right and best." 
 
 " What boy ? " said Mrs. Ashton, looking up 
 from her work, and thinking only of James. 
 
 " Why, Willie Simmer, to be sure. There is 
 promise in that child. You should have heard 
 him recite to-day. James, with the advantages 
 and care he has had, was not quite his equal ; 
 and Willie may have been said to have made 
 himself. Only think what a home he has ! I 
 have no doubt, if the truth were known, we 
 should find there was often positive suffering 
 there, both from want of food and from per- 
 sonal abuse." 
 
 " Yes," answered Mrs. Ashton, whose heart 
 
 (66)
 
 PLANS FOR WILLIE. 67 
 
 was as kind and tender as her husband's ; " 1 
 can never forget how that poor deaf and dumb 
 child looked that day you brought her home. 
 After I have been to see our own children all 
 tucked up so nice and warm at night, and look- 
 ing so rosy and happy, I cannot sleep for 
 thoughts of those little things there. I am 
 really afraid their father will kill them, some- 
 time. What a brute he is ! " 
 
 " Yes. I suppose no one but God can ever 
 know how much bitterness is mingled every 
 day in this wife's cup. I have no doubt she 
 suffers, really suffers more in one week than 
 many of the rest of us shall in our lifetime ; 
 and yet, how little she seems to any of us to 
 need this discipline ! Surely, God's ways are 
 not our ways." 
 
 " Nor His thoughts our thoughts," added Mrs. 
 Ashton. " I am often struck, when events look 
 as inexplicable as this does, with the dif- 
 ferent manner in which God thinks of the 
 same tiling. But about Willie : I do wish we
 
 68 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 could do something that would really help him 
 He ought to have an education. What a man 
 he might make ! " 
 
 "And must make, with God's blessing," 
 said Mr. Ashton. " But there is one thing in 
 the way. Willie is precisely that kind of boy 
 who can only be helped by being allowed to 
 help himself. I mean, that he would not accept 
 money which he had never earned. Nor do I 
 believe you. could by any inducement tempt 
 him away from home, so long as he thought his 
 being there was a comfort or protection to 
 his mother." 
 
 " Protection ! what possible protection could 
 such a boy be against a drunken father ? " 
 
 " More than it would seem. There is a cer- 
 tain manliness about the little fellow which 
 you see affects even me. I should not like to 
 offer him money unless I could find a good 
 excuse for doing so." 
 
 " You are the very person to help him. You 
 have so much delicacy yourself, that you would
 
 PLANS FOR WILLIE. 69 
 
 never wound him. Rich people are very apt 
 to forget that the poor have feelings. For my 
 part, I am constantly becoming more and more 
 sure that the reason why there is so little real 
 gratitude in the world is, because so much is 
 demanded, because the needy know that the 
 rich give only a very small part of their 
 worldly substance, and require in return what 
 is far more precious than silver and gold. 
 You are an exception ; you always give as if 
 you were receiving the favor." 
 
 " Ah ! my wife," said Mr. Ashton, his voice 
 trembling, " it is because I have found how 
 much more blessed it is to give than to receive. 
 I always feel, when I am allowed to do any 
 little thing, as if God were giving me a great 
 
 The tears came into Mrs. Ashton's eyes. 
 " No wonder," she said, " our boy is so good, 
 with such a father ! " 
 
 " You and I always end our conversations by 
 saying very pleasant things to each other,"
 
 70 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 said Mr. Asliton, smiling ; " but I don't know 
 that it brings us any nearer the object." 
 
 " Oh ! to be sure, helping Willie ! Well, what 
 will you do ? I am ready for any thing." 
 
 " He is now ten years old, but if he remains 
 at home, his father will be growing worse and 
 worse ; and by and by this life will destroy all 
 his love of books, and he will be lost." 
 
 These worthy people discussed this difficult 
 question until late at night, and the result of 
 the conversation will be made manifest to our 
 readers as they proceed with the storj. 
 
 Early the next morning Mr. Ashton went to 
 Mr. Sumner's house ; but, early as it was, the 
 jug was already in his hand, and he was about 
 leaving the house to pawn his last book for 
 liquor. 
 
 " Just in time, I see," said Mr. Ashton, cheer- 
 fully. " I have a little business I should like 
 to have you do for me, and I should be sorry 
 to have been too late. Come, suppose you 
 Btep up to the mill with me. It may prove
 
 PLANS FOR WILLIE. 71 
 
 something of a job ; but I hardly like to drive 
 over to Rowley for a lawyer, when we have 
 such a good one at home." 
 
 Mr. Sumner made several awkward attempts 
 to conceal his jug. It was the first symptom 
 of shame he had evinced for months, and Mr. 
 Ashton, looking away, gave him the opportu- 
 nity. This done, Mr. Ashton began a pleasant 
 conversation with him, speaking from time to 
 time to Mrs. Sumner, who, divided between 
 fear and pleasure, hardly knew what answers 
 she made. 
 
 At length Mr. Ashton glided entirely into 
 the business affair ; and she was content, as she 
 saw by her husband's clear and concise an- 
 swers, that he not only comprehended, but was 
 interested in the matter. 
 
 Willie came in from splitting his wood, with 
 very rosy cheeks. He was surprised to see Mr. 
 Ashton and his father talking so earnestly to- 
 gether, and would have stolen out again ; but 
 Mr. Ashton saw and stopped him.
 
 72 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 " Ah, Willie ! good-morning ; so the success 
 of yesterday did not make you forget your 
 mother's wood. I am glad of it. I have heard 
 you chopping away like a hero ever since I 
 have been here. Which do you love best, 
 work, or books ? " 
 
 " Sometimes one, and sometimes the other/ 
 answered Willie, timidly, "just as I have 
 them to do." 
 
 " That is right, my boy. What is the old 
 rhyme about all work and no play ? " 
 
 Mr. Simmer was the only one who could 
 repeat it ; to do so was a new mark of in- 
 terest. He seemed almost to have forgotten 
 that he had children before. 
 
 " If you can spare Willie a little while," said 
 Mr. Ashton, looking at Mrs. Sumner, " my boy 
 would be very glad to have him drive over to 
 Bristol with him. It is vacation, you know, 
 and they both did so well yesterday they want 
 a little recreation." 
 
 Willie's eyes sparkled with pleasure. Mr.
 
 PLANS FOB WILLIE. 73 
 
 Ashtou wondered, as he looked from them to 
 his mother's, lighted up with the same pleasure, 
 that he had never noticed how much they 
 looked alike before. 
 
 " He will stop for you as the clock strikes 
 nine. Wrap up warm, for it is very cold or 
 stay, my wife said James had a nice overcoat 
 which was always too small for him, and she 
 wanted it carried for the shop-keeper to send 
 more cloth of the same kind. Now if you will 
 just slip it on James can't wear it it will 
 save it's getting down in the bottom of the 
 sleigh. Boys don't keep every thing right 
 side up, you know, Mrs. Sumner" but Mrs. 
 Sumner was gone. She had slipped away after 
 her husband, who was attempting to rub up his 
 threadbare coat, and to make himself " look de- 
 cently" before going to the mill. As gently and 
 tenderly as in those first summer days of their 
 married life, Mrs. Sumner assisted him. She 
 could not help glancing up to him, almost hop- 
 ing it was not a delusion, that he was himself 
 7
 
 74 WIN AND WEAE. 
 
 again ; but his red and bloated face, the dull, 
 heavy eyes and the red lids "were there. Still 
 she began to hope ; was there ever a true af- 
 fection in which the hope of better things was 
 not the last spark to die out of the heart ? 
 
 She stood at the window, and watched him 
 as he went away with Mr. Ashton. She had 
 little doubt how he would return at night, but 
 even this short reprieve was a blessing, and 
 might be only the beginning of better times. 
 
 The first thing Willie had to tell her, after 
 they left, was about the overcoat. 
 
 " Only think, mother," he said, " how very 
 nice ! I should have shivered away, even under 
 the buffalo. Sometimes I grow so cold, when 
 I am out a long time, that it seems as if I never 
 could get warm again ; and I will be very 
 careful of it, not to soil it in the least." 
 
 " That's a good boy," said his mother. 
 
 "Willie looked at her eagerly ; there was a 
 sound of the old music in her voice. What could 
 it moan ? " What a good mother she is," he
 
 PLANS FOB WILLIE. 75 
 
 thought ; " the least thing that makes me happy 
 is so much to her." 
 
 Punctual as the clock, James came driving 
 up to the door. He had two sets of bells, and 
 two very heavy buffaloes, and the overcoat, 
 which he threw out to Willie as he stopped. 
 Willie had never put one on before. He tried 
 not to be awkward about it, but he was, very. 
 He put one arm in easily enough, but that se- 
 cond arm ! he tried it up no, that wouldn't 
 do ; he tried it down, but couldn't find the 
 arm-hole ; he tried it behind, but it constantly 
 evaded him. His mother came to his rescue, 
 buttoned it up tight to his chin, and with much 
 gratification once more stood at the window 
 to watch them out of sight. Lotty had caught 
 a glimpse of James as he drove up, and had 
 darted out to the sleigh. James caught her 
 up, kissed her, and thrust a fruit-cake he had 
 brought on purpose into her pocket. As Mrs. 
 Sumner turned from the window, she saw her 
 dividing it with Warren, and only caught up
 
 76 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 the baby in time to prevent a great piece being 
 pushed into her mouth. 
 
 So commenced Willie's vacation. Every 
 mile of the way the boys were conscious of the 
 fact. They eagerly discussed the examination 
 of the day before, their studies for the coming 
 time, and Willie thought, as they flew along to 
 the music of the merry bells, he was never so 
 happy before. They had a " grand time," they 
 both said so, and who should know better ? 
 No cloth could be found to match the overcoa t, 
 but all the other shopping was satisfactorily 
 done. As they stopped once more at Willie's 
 door, and he commenced unbuttoning the coat 
 to return it, James said, 
 
 " Hold on,Willie ! mother said if we couldn't 
 match that coat, she could never do the least 
 thing in the world with it, and if your mother 
 would let you wear it, it would save her the 
 trouble of keeping it from the moths. It fits 
 you splendidly; you just wear it in, and we will 
 talk about it next time I come. Good-bye."
 
 PLANS FOB WILLIE. 77 
 
 Willie stood confounded. It must be confess- 
 ed that, as he rode so comfortably along, he 
 had given many thoughts to the nice warm 
 garment he wore. He had wished his father was 
 rich, so that he could give him one ; he had 
 wished that he was a man, so that he could 
 earn one for himself ; he almost wished he had' 
 never put it on, so as not to know how much 
 comfort he had lost ; but all these thoughts did 
 not interfere at all with his enjoyment. He had 
 been early taught by his good mother that it 
 was wrong to repine ; that the only way to be 
 a true Christian was to receive life as God 
 had sent it, without murmuring. Did Willie 
 really wish to be a Christian ? We do not 
 know how we can answer better than by say- 
 ing, that during this ride he had remembered 
 this duty often, and, boy as he was, had asked 
 for strength to submit to his life, like one whom 
 Christ could love. 
 
 As this coat had been, notwithstanding it 
 had added so much to his comfort, rather a 
 7*
 
 78 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 source of trial to him too, he stood now, until 
 the sound of the sleigh-bells had entirely ceased, 
 without moving, wondering what it could 
 mean, if God had heard him, and was answer- 
 ing his only half-thought prayer, or, if he had 
 misunderstood James. His mother's knock on 
 the window first recalled him. 
 
 " Willie," she said, as he entered, " you have 
 forgotten the overcoat ; run as fast as you can 
 after James, and if you can't overtake him, go 
 directly to the house." 
 
 " Mother," said Willie, half hesitating what 
 to say, "unless I am very much mistaken, 
 James gave me this coat. He said his mother 
 wanted you to keep it from the moths, or some 
 such thing, I hardly know what. He drove 
 right away without giving me time to say a 
 single word. What shall we do now ? " 
 
 " What would you like to do, my son ? " said 
 Mrs. Sumner, thoughtfully. 
 
 " Just what is right, mother," answered Wil- 
 lie, casting some very lo aging looks to the
 
 PLANS FOR. WILLIE. 79 
 
 coat, a? he began to take it off. " I never had 
 on such a \varm thing in all my life, and if it 
 is right to keep it, I think I think, but I do 
 not feel certain, that I could earn it, and pay 
 Mrs. Ashton what she thinks it is worth." 
 
 " Well said, Willie," said his mother, smiling. 
 She thought there must be something in the 
 mannishness of the coat, which had made her 
 boy suddenly old. " But what could a little 
 fellow like you do towards earning money ? " 
 
 " I don't know, mother not much I fear, only 
 I would try. ' Win and wear,' Mr. Ross said ; I 
 did not know exactly what he meant, but I 
 think it was something like this : If you do 
 not earn your coat, you have no right to wear 
 it. I will take the coat on my arm, if you have 
 no objection, and go up. to Mrs. Ashton, and I 
 will tell her the truth without any hesitation." 
 
 " And what do you regard as the truth ? " 
 
 " Why, simply this : that the coat is very nice ; 
 that I should like it right well ; that we can't 
 afford to buy it and pay money for it ; but if
 
 80 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 she will tell me any way in which I can ear a 
 it during this vacation, I shall be willing to do 
 any thing which I can do well." 
 
 " I think that is the right and the manly 
 way, Willie," said his mother, quietly. " I am 
 perfectly willing you should do as you have a 
 fancy to." 
 
 " Thank you, mother ; you are always kind," 
 said Willie, preparing at the same time to go. 
 
 " Here is your dinner I have kept it ready 
 for you ; you had better eat before you go." 
 
 " Eat 1 " said the excited child ; " I couldn't, 
 mother, if you had roast beef and plum pud- 
 ding. James had such a big basket full of 
 lunch put up for us, I thought, when I first saw 
 it, that it was enough for all our dinners at 
 home ; but somehow th,e basket was empty when 
 I left it. You wouldn't think I could eat 
 another morsel for a week, if you had seen 
 how it went." 
 
 Mrs. Sumner had known many and many a 
 time, when she was sure the boy had gone
 
 PLANS FOR WILLIE. 81 
 
 hungry to school, for the supply for all the 
 children had scarcely been more than one 
 strong boy would require. She was grateful 
 to Mrs. Ashton for her thoughtful kindness, 
 and grateful also to that kind heavenly Father 
 who never forgot nor forsook her, though 
 clouds and darkness were often round about 
 her. Now she could not resist the pleasure 
 of folding up nicely that new coal, and laying 
 it carefully upon her boy's arm, as if it was 
 the harbinger of many coming blessings. He 
 was, as she had called him, " a little fellow." A 
 hungry child, and especially an anxious one, 
 has a very slender chance to develop physi- 
 cally, and Willie had often been both. No 
 wonder that he was scarcely larger than many 
 boys of eight ; but he had, as we have seen, that 
 very doubtful substitute for bodily growth 
 an undue growth of brain. His mind was far 
 in advance of many boys' nearly double hia 
 age. 
 
 James Ashton saw him before he reached
 
 82 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 the house, and saAV the coat upon his arm, 
 " Oh ! mother," he called, running to the par- 
 lor, "you were right. Willie's mother will 
 not let him keep that coat ; here he is back 
 with it. What shall we do ? " 
 
 " Keep quiet, James ! " said his mother. " Per- 
 haps he has come for something else ; don't let 
 him see it troubles you." 
 
 "But it does, mother ; I thought I had it all 
 fixed nicely, and now it's all to do over again. 
 I wish people wouldn't be so proud in this 
 world." 
 
 " Pride is the protection of the poor, often/' 
 said Mrs. Ashton, as Willie's timid knock was 
 heard at the side-door. James hastened to 
 open it, but Willie missed his usual cordial re- 
 ception. James was more than half vexed, for 
 he had prided himself upon the skilful manner 
 in which he had driven off, without giving 
 Willie time to make an objection. I wonder 
 if it occurred to James, when he was wishing 
 people ''wouldn't be proud in this world/'
 
 PLANS FOR WILLIE. 83 
 
 that lie was indulging in a kind of pride not 
 nearly as honorable as the one he was con 
 dcinning ? I presume not ; but as these two 
 boys stood face to face in the door, this frosty 
 winter noon, they were illustrations of these 
 two kinds. James's was easily controlled by 
 his good sense and good feelings ; Willie's wag 
 occasioned by his. 
 
 " Is your mother at home ? " asked Willie, too 
 much excited to be troubled by James's slight 
 coldness. 
 
 " Yes, walk in ; here she is right in the parlor. 
 But why in the world have you worn your coa.t 
 on your arm ? Did you run, so you had to take 
 it off? 
 
 " Not exactly ; for I did not put it on, though 
 I have run a good part of the way. 
 
 " Mrs. Ashton," he said, hardly waiting for 
 James to open the parlor door, "ray mother 
 thanks you very much for having offered mo 
 this nice new overcoat, and so do I. I should 
 ralher have it than almost anything I can think
 
 84 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 of; but I feel, and so does mother, that I should 
 have a much better right to it, if I could earn 
 it. Mr. Ross said, it was only those boys who 
 could win that should wear, and though I am 
 very small and not very strong, still if I could 
 earn it, I should think so much more of it than 
 if you only gave it to me." 
 
 " Dear little Willie," said Mrs. Ashton, the 
 mother's heart yearning over the bright, eager 
 face which looked so imploringly up in hers, 
 " I think you look more like being nursed, and 
 taken care of, than being put to work." 
 
 " But I can work, if you please, Mrs. Ashton, 
 only I know it will be a trouble to find some- 
 thing for me. It was because you were so kind 
 always to me, that made me think that made 
 
 me hope that " Willie began to hesitate, 
 
 and the tears to start. 
 
 " Don't cry, Willie," said James ; " come, you 
 and I will go down to the mill. Women even 
 my mother don't know much about work, but 
 that is no sign that father don't. Come, I'll
 
 PLANS FOE WILLIE. 85 
 
 help you j I should like the fun right well, and 
 we will soon earn together. How much will 
 7011 take for it, mother ? We will make a trade." 
 
 Mrs. Ashton saw at a glance that James was 
 on the right track, so, taking the coat, she 
 examined it with much apparent care. " Well," 
 she said at last, " I can't find a tear or rip all 
 over it. I think you never wore it a half 
 dozen times. I really do feel as if it is worth 
 one dollar ; and if Willie can earn the money, 
 I shall be glad to have him take it off my 
 hands." 
 
 " One dollar! oh! mother, you are a perfect 
 Jew ; it is not worth half that money. Come, 
 now, trade fair. Seeing it is you, I will give 
 you fifty cents for it,* and that is twelve and a 
 half more than it's worth. Or, stop ! I don't know 
 (taking the coat to the window) I have no 
 doubt there will come a hole here under this 
 pocket soon. I always do wear holes there the 
 first thing ; say twenty-five cents, now, and 
 be reasonable I"
 
 86 WIN AN^ WEAK, 
 
 Willie began to smile it was just what James 
 wanted. " Come, now ! going ! going ! Say 
 twenty-five, and I will knock it down. A grey 
 coat an overcoat, gentlemen and ladies with 
 two pockets and twelve buttons, black velvet 
 collar and cuffs better than new, because James 
 Ashton has worn it fine, large pockets for 
 apples, hold a small half bushel apiece excel- 
 lent to coast in beside a variety of other excel- 
 lencies, too numerous to mention. Gentlemen 
 and ladies, examine for yourselves going ! 
 going ! for only twenty -five cents ! '"' These last 
 words James uttered in such a perfect imitation 
 of an auctioneer's voice, that Mrs. Ashton and 
 Willie laughed heartily. But Mrs. Ashton said 
 the coat was worth one doHar, and if she sold 
 it at all, she would not take a cent less. Mill 
 hours were, however, over now ; Willie could 
 leave the coat, and she would talk with her hus- 
 band about work, when he came home. Perhaps 
 some way might be planned by which it could 
 be earned.
 
 PLANS FOR WILLIE. 87 
 
 What a happy boy Willie was, as he went 
 home! And how kind and considerate Mrs. Ash- 
 ton had been ! The boy's self-respect was invio- 
 late. If he could only earn this, perhaps he 
 might do more and more ; and pretty soon, who 
 could tell how much comfort he could be to his 
 mother ? When he once more reached home, 
 Mr. Ashton was just saying good-bye to his 
 father. He had business around that way, so 
 he walked home with Mr. Simmer, and the poor 
 man was very grateful to him, for it had kept 
 his feet from turning down that well-worn path 
 toward the dramshop. Mr. Ashton stepped in 
 to say one word to Mrs. Sumner, and, happen- 
 ing to glance back as he passed the window, 
 had the satisfaction^of seeing Mr. Sumner give 
 the money, which he had well earned, to his 
 wife. 
 
 So much for the first day of Willie's vaca- 
 tion.
 
 V. 
 
 si HI. 
 
 THE next morning Mr. Sumner was to go 
 again to his business. He showed no in- 
 clination to avoid it. He even said to his wife. 
 " I wish, Mary, I had a little better coat. Really, 
 Mr. Ashton's head workman is dressed more re- 
 spectably than I am." 
 
 " I wish you had," answered his wife ; " you 
 really need a whole new suit. Perhaps if you 
 can earn for a little while as much as you did 
 yesterday, you will be able to get one." Then 
 she told him the story of' Willie's overcoat^ 
 and how the boy was to go to-day to earn it, 
 if he could. Mr. Sumner listened in silence. 
 Every word conveyed a tacit reproach to 
 him ; but he knew that he well deserved it all, 
 and that his wife did not mean to wound him. 
 But it made him sad ; and he forgot quickly, in 
 
 (fi8)
 
 THE MILL. 89 
 
 the want of his family, his own new clothes, 
 and went, notwithstanding the strong cravings 
 of appetite, directly to the mill. 
 
 Mr. Ashton had hardly dared expect him ; 
 and there was so much of hearty joy in his re- 
 ception, that Mr. Sumner set about his work 
 with a zest and interest he had not known 
 for years. His business was, to examine a 
 variety of claims to some real estate which 
 Mr. Ashton was anxious to purchase, but to 
 which he had not been able to establish a secure 
 legal hold. A poor widow claimed the land 
 as hers. She said it had been willed to her 
 by her father, who was one of the original 
 settlers ; but as she was a " lone being," without 
 any one to defend her, it had been claimed 
 and occupied by a man who had sold it out in 
 shares to suit his own pleasure. She had no 
 money to go to law with, and so it had gone. 
 But now Mr. Ashton wished to buy. He went 
 to the root of the matter ; and here was this 
 unheard, unthought-of widow's claim, in the 
 S*
 
 90 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 hands of a strong, just man, who would see 
 right done. " I have had trust in God," said 
 the poor woman, " through all these long years, 
 while I have seen Mr. Jones grow rich by 
 his gains from that same land. I knew He 
 said, in many places in His good book, that 
 the wicked should not always prosper, and that 
 He would protect the widow. I am old now, 
 sir, and most through ; but I have a relative 
 to whom it would do much good to leave this, 
 when I die." 
 
 The widow had not in possession her father's 
 will indeed, she had no idea what had become 
 of it. She had had two brothers. They were 
 both dead, and there was of their families only 
 this one child living. She had married badly, 
 she knew, but could tell nothing more about 
 her. 
 
 This was all the information to be obtained. 
 The woman lived in a town sixty miles dis- 
 tant. Mr. Ash ton had elicited from her all he 
 .could . and Mr. Sumner could not be trusted
 
 THE MILL. 91 
 
 to go so far from home as would be required, 
 in order to make her a personal visit. But 
 the investigation became every hour more 
 and more interesting to him, and he found him- 
 self often thinking of it when he used to be* 
 thinking only of his cup. Pile after pile of 
 papers Mr. Ashton laid before him. The work 
 seemed almost interminable, as he looked at 
 the heap ; but he took hold of them with the 
 eagerness of a hungry man, or rather, of an 
 active mind which had at last become weary 
 of doing nothing, and was grateful for occu- 
 pation. 
 
 Willie was not long behind his father. Run- 
 ning until he was all in a glow, he reached 
 Mr. Ashton's house. James was ready to open 
 the door as he came up the steps. 
 
 " There ! " was his first salutation, " I told 
 you men were better than women for finding 
 work. Just as soon as father heard about it, 
 he said he had plenty for us both to do ; he 
 Bhould quite like to hire two clever hands.
 
 92 WIX AND WEAR. 
 
 If we would 3ome right round when you came, 
 he would set us to work ; he wouldn't tell ua 
 what we were to do, until we came. Now, 
 sir, in two minutes I will be ready." 
 
 What happy boys they were, as they started 
 for their work ! They had not been as happy 
 on the previous day, when, with the fine horse 
 and sleigh, they had the pleasant drive before 
 them. Willie was to make his first effort to 
 earn money for his mother ; and James was 
 to do a kind act. It would have been difficult 
 to tell which of the two was the most glad, 
 as they ran gaily along toward the mill ; now 
 sliding, now rolling up a snowball and toss- 
 ing it as far as they could toward the clear 
 blue sky, and now stopping to break off a glit- 
 tering icicle from some corner of an old log, 
 or making new paths where the snow was the 
 deepest, or a bank had been piled up against 
 the wooden fence. Of course they took much 
 longer to reach the mill than if they had 
 walked demurely along, but they carried m
 
 THE MILL. 93 
 
 with them bright eyes and red cheeks. There 
 was a glow about Willie's face, which made 
 him almost as handsome as James ; and many 
 of the workmen stopped their work for a mo- 
 ment, to look at the boys as they passed. Mr. 
 Ashton was ready for them. " So, my boy," 
 he said, patting Willie on the head, " James 
 and you think you would like to learn to work, 
 as well as study, do you ? Well, I am glad 
 of it. It never hurt a man to be able and 
 willing to turn his hand to anything. There 
 is a great deal of truth, but it is not all true, 
 in that old saying, ' Jack of all trades,- and 
 master of none.' You boys will serve your 
 trade for six cents a card, if you do well. But 
 now I must tell you, to start with, I never 
 employ any but faithful, trusty men. The first 
 time you attempt in any way to cheat me, I 
 have done with you. Here, Pat," he called 
 to a good-looking Irishman, who was his 
 head overseer, " take these boys ; they are 
 raw hands, but I w<mt them well trained.
 
 94 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 Take them to the room where they are pasting 
 on patterns, and teach them how. They are 
 to work very neatly, no sham ; they must 
 earn what I pay them, like the rest of you." 
 
 Pat laughed. He had probably received in- 
 structions before from his master, for he de 
 parted from many of the usual rules, and seemed 
 determined to make the employment a diver- 
 sion if he could. 
 
 He conducted the boys to a neat room, where 
 they found a bushel basket filled with small, 
 square pieces of different kinds of calico. 
 
 " Why, Pat, said James, looking askance at 
 the calico, " you are not going to put us to 
 making a bed-quilt, are you? I forgot my 
 thimble ; I am afraid I should have to go home 
 before I could begin." 
 
 " Faith, Master James," said Pat, " it's not 
 sewing these bits that you are to do ; but you 
 are to quilt them on to a large card with a 
 paste-brush." 
 
 " Ah ! yes, I understand ; that is a kind of
 
 " ' I declare it is as g< od as a sum in square root,' said James." 
 fin and Wear. p 95.
 
 THE MILL. 95 
 
 needle I haven't a doubt I can use, neatly too. 
 Come, hurrah for business! only 6} cents a 
 card I I tell you what, Willie, we sha'n't run 
 any risk of being millionaires to-day." 
 
 Pat went to work systematically, and our 
 young workmen were soon busy at their task. 
 How very simple it had looked, and yet, now 
 they were fairly at work, how really difficult 
 it was. All must be so true. If the side of 
 the pattern crooked ever so little, Pat took 
 the calico off, and they must try again. 
 
 " I declare, it is as good as a sum in square 
 root," said James. 
 
 " You make it crooked root, young men," 
 said Pat, laughing. " None of your larning 
 will sarve you here ; it's a straight eye you want." 
 
 " Well, neither Willie or I are squint-eyed," 
 answered James. " What puzzles me most is, 
 to tell which is the up and the down of all 
 these little creatures. What are they, Pat? 
 They are neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, and, I 
 am sure, not flowers."
 
 96 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 " They are patterns," said Pat, simply ; 
 " I have never heard them called anything 
 else. 
 
 " Jerry Bates was very anxious to learn this 
 very same thing, and I tried a week to teach 
 him ; for you see his father died, and left a lot 
 on 'um with nothing to sarve them ; and master, 
 he would do for them, as he does for all your 
 needy folks; but nothing could I make of 
 Jerry. He put these patterns always upside 
 down, and never straight." 
 
 " For the upside down, Pat, if they were all 
 so, why didn't you turn the cards ? They would 
 have done just as well." 
 
 " 'Pon my honor 1 I never thought of that," 
 said Pat, suddenly struck with the possibil- 
 ity. "For the crook, he might have been 
 cured of that ; but the upside down ! my 
 patience fairly gave out, and I told master 
 'twant no use. Its hard getting a Paddy 
 right, if he don't take to it natural like ; 
 and so we were sorry, for Jerry was kind of
 
 THE MILL, 97 
 
 delicate like, and couldn't work in the mill, 
 and we had to let him go." 
 
 " Can't he come again, and work with us ? 
 we can teach him, you know, James ! " whis* 
 pered Willie. 
 
 " First-rate ! of course he can. Pat, look 
 here ; you call that boy, and we will see that 
 he earns a dollar to-day." 
 
 " Better learn yourself first, Master James, 
 and when you have we will talk about Jerry. 
 See there, now ! that is as crooked as a ram's 
 horn, and, I declare, bottom side up too." 
 
 James laughed good-naturedly, and soon 
 righted his work ; but it took all the logic Pat 
 possessed, to make him willing to wait another 
 day before Jerry made a new trial. Pat wag 
 the more determined, because Mr. Ashton had 
 told him, specially, that he wished the boys 
 kept away from the others who were about the 
 mill. 
 
 The first half day went quickly ; but dili- 
 gent as they had tried to be, neither of the 
 9
 
 98 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 hoy shad earned his first fourpence ; and James, 
 as he sat down to dinner, announced to his 
 father " that if he had ever had a thought of 
 making him a manufacturer, one week in the 
 mill would completely cure him. There could 
 be no money made at such a rate." 
 
 Mr. Ashton had expected this. James loved 
 to do what he could do quickly, and with 
 great results. This was one reason why he loved 
 his books. He would work hard while he work- 
 ed, but he wanted to drive right through, and 
 be done. 
 
 " Let me see," said his father, " you earned 
 about ftmr cents this morning ; Willie the same. 
 If you work hard you may do as well this after- 
 noon, and that will be sixteen cents towards the 
 coat, almost one-sixth part of the cost. I doubt 
 if such a coat was ever earned so quickly before." 
 
 " But. father, you know" 
 
 "Yes, I know all about it, and also, J-ow 
 much easier it is to plan to do good, and tt as- 
 sist otters, than really to do it."
 
 THE MILL. 99 
 
 " I am not at all tired of helping Willie,,' 
 said James, the color coming quickly into his 
 face, while he vacillated between being vexed, 
 and hurt. 
 
 " I did not say you were, James. I am only 
 anxious for you to see how much easier it is to 
 talk, than to act. You have had a pretty hard 
 morning of it, but you have had your first im- 
 portant practical lesson in doing good. I often 
 think you children might be to each other 
 almost ministering angels. You can come nearer 
 together ; you can feel for each other better 
 than we old people, who more than half forget 
 how we used to be as children ; therefore I de- 
 pend upon you, really, to do good to Willie, 
 instead of either your mother or myself. I will 
 not oblige you to keep at work with him at the 
 mill, but I rather advise that you stand fast, 
 until he has earned his dollar." 
 
 " Oh ! father, you don't think I would sneak 
 out now, do you ? So far from that, I was going 
 to) ask if you wouldn't let that poor little
 
 100 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 Jerry, that is so stupid, come in and work with 
 us. Between us Willie and I I know we can 
 teach him ; at any rate, we can try." 
 
 " Yes, that would be quite a good idea,'' an- 
 swered his father. "I was wondering what 
 I could do for Jerry. You see you are already 
 finding out what it is to be a ministering child." 
 
 " Ministering child ! that don't sound exactly 
 like servant, more like a minister of state," said 
 James, talking half to himself. " I can't tell 
 exactly whether I should like it. I am sure, it 
 grew hard before twelve, to keep pasting away 
 at those endless little patches, and then not to 
 earn a fourpence, either ! " 
 
 " You must win, if you would wear," said 
 Mr. Ashton. 
 
 " There, father, it does seem as if I was fated 
 to hear that same thing from everybody lately. 
 Mr. Ross said so at examination, and I have 
 heard a dozen fellows repeat it since. Now, I 
 could understand Willie, when he said he 
 wanted to wir his coat before he wore it, be-
 
 THE MILL. 101 
 
 cause wearing a coat is the most natural thing 
 in the world to do with it ; but what you mean 
 by my winning, when I am only at work in the 
 mill with two boys, is more than I can imagine. 
 I can't wear those old pasteboard cards, unless 
 you dress me up as they do boys in London, 
 with one great card before and one behind, 
 and send me out as a walking advertisement 
 of the goods you manufacture in your mill." 
 
 Mr. Ashton laughed. " I shall not do that," 
 he said, " until you are some feet taller at any 
 rate, so that you may make more show. But 
 what I mean is simply this : You cannot have 
 real, true pleasure in doing good, unless you are 
 at some pains to make a sacrifice for it ; you 
 must win that happiness by exertion and by 
 self-denial, else you can never wear, or pos- 
 sess it." 
 
 " Now, father, I don't feel sure of that. Sup- 
 pose I had the dollar, and Willie was willing 
 to take it from me, don't you suppose I should 
 be just as contented and happy in seeing him
 
 102 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 wear it. as if I worked like a liero, shut up in 
 that little room in the mill all my vacation, 
 without having a moment to slide, or skate, or 
 ride in ? " 
 
 " No, indeed you would not ; for, in the first 
 place, if Willie would take the money he would 
 be a different kind of a boy from what he is 
 now, and you would not love to do half so 
 well for him ; and then, ' what costs nothing 
 yields nothing in return.' But it does cost 
 me a hard silver dollar, which is nothing to 
 you in comparison with a day's steady work. 
 Keep on ; you will find it all out by experience 
 by and by." 
 
 Willie was coming. It was well he had not 
 heard the conversation, for all the way to Mr. 
 Ashton's he had been troubled by the thought 
 that he was obliging James, for his sake, to lose 
 his slides, and stay shut up in that little room 
 at work ; so the first thing he said to James 
 was, " Tames, it is too bad to keep you at work 
 for me. This morning I thought it would be so
 
 THE MILL. 103 
 
 pleasant to have you with me, when everything 
 was strange and new, that I had not the courage 
 to ask you to go ; but now I know more about 
 it, and I really had rather go without my over- 
 coat twice over. I am sorry I must have 
 seemed so very selfish to you. I was selfish, .but I 
 did not mean to be. I did not find it out until 
 I left you this noon." 
 
 How James's cheek burned. He could hardly 
 believe Willie had not heard all the conver- 
 sation he had had with his father, and he could 
 only stammer out : 
 
 . " Willie, upon my word and honor, I had 
 rather go witli you than not ; and even if I 
 hadn't, father wouldn't let me off. He never lets 
 me put my hand to the plough, and look back. 
 Last night, when I asked him to let me go, he 
 said he would give me the whole night to think 
 it over in, and if I held to the same determina- 
 tion this morning, he would not prevent me. 
 He never hires a man for Jess than a week ; so, 
 as I knew that when I let myself, I don't see
 
 104 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 but I looked before I leaped. Come on ! we'll 
 earn twelve cents a piece this afternoon ; 
 and, what is first-rate, father says we may 
 have Jerry in, and teach him." 
 
 " Wait until we have learned ourselves," said 
 Willie, laughing, and greatly relieved. If we 
 should teach him wrong, Pac would get out of 
 patience with the whole of us." 
 
 The afternoon passed more quickly than the 
 morning ; and when the boys went home at 
 night they had earned about ten cents apiece, 
 and " a royal appetite " for their supper. 
 
 "Mother,'' said James, as he sat down to 
 their plentiful and neat tea-table, " how I wish 
 I could peep into Mrs. Sumner's, and see what 
 Willie has for his tea. I am as hungry as two 
 bears, and feel as if I could eat up everything 
 here, tablecloth and all. Now, I dare say he 
 has only just so much ; and he is always think- 
 ing of everybody but himself, so if there is not 
 a lot there, he will go to bed hungry, I am 
 Bure."
 
 THE MILL. 105 
 
 Willie did have a scant supper, and did go 
 hungry to bed ; but it seemed to him he had 
 never been so happy in his whole life before. 
 His father had come home sober. Lotty had 
 crept to his lap, and, lifting her hair from off 
 the wound which he had inflicted, she had 
 motioned to him to kiss it, and, taking hia 
 hand, had repeatedly drawn it softly over it, 
 her token of forgiveness and reconciliation. 
 
 Mr. Sumner tenderly kissed her, put both 
 arms around, and pressed her to his heart. 
 That heart, it seemed, was human still ; and 
 Mrs. Sumner, with tears dropping fast upon her 
 baby's hands, lifted her hastily up to conceal 
 them, while the child danced and crowed as if 
 it had a perfect comprehension of the joy of 
 the scene. Willie came in at this moment. 
 James needed not to have so much pitied 
 him, for the boy was more blessed that night 
 than for many long, long weeks before. 
 
 When Willie went to his bed, he sat a long 
 time, until he was benumbed and stiff from th
 
 106 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 cold, thinking over the events of the day. He 
 had a feeling of having been thoughtless and 
 selfish with regard to James. He wondered how 
 lie could have been so, when he had that very 
 morning asked God to help him to be thought 
 ful and careful for other people. He began to 
 be afraid it would be a much harder thing to 
 be a little Christian boy in prosperity, than it 
 had been in adversity. How earnestly he 
 prayed that night ; with what sincerity and hu- 
 mility ! His mother, who had come softly up, 
 as was her wont, to see if he was comfortable 
 for the night, was surprised at the contrite, 
 supplicating tone of his prayer. She went 
 away troubled lest he should have been doing 
 wrong, and determined, on the very next morn- 
 ing, to induce him to give her his entire confi- 
 dence. 
 
 At last, after much tossing and turning for 
 Willie was too tired and too hungry to sleep 
 easily, even after he had lain all his fatilta 
 before his heavenly Father, asking His for-
 
 THE MILL. 107 
 
 giveness and assistance in never erring the 
 same way again he fell into a deep sleep. 
 The late winter's sun rose before him ; and, in- 
 deed, he might have slumbered on until mill 
 hours, had not Lotty, with her shrill voice and 
 her soft hand, broken his sound nap.
 
 V. 
 
 lS morning Jerry was to go with them. 
 It was almost the first thought Willie had, 
 as he hurried through his breakfast, and started 
 off as fast as he could run for James ; but 
 James had been up and out long before him. 
 Neither hungry nor tired, for he was a much 
 stronger boy than Willie, he had gone early 
 to sleep. No troubles of conscience had he ; 
 though, in reality, he had been quite as selfish 
 as Willie. He was not a thoughtful boy, so far 
 as right and wrong were concerned. His im- 
 pulses seemed to be almost all noble and good.' 
 He did not love to do wrong, because it made 
 others unhappy. He was quick and bright, so 
 he seldom tried the patience of either his 
 teachers or his parents. The consequence was, 
 that he was found little fault with, and Ma 
 
 (108)
 
 JERRY. 109 
 
 conscience was generally at rest. He always 
 prayed at night ; but his prayers were thanks 
 for the blessings received, and for the hap- 
 piness of a very happy life. James never 
 thought about his being a sinner. He had, 
 as I have said, very little idea that he ever 
 did wrong. He was so amiable and pleas- 
 ant, that it would have been difficult for any 
 one, even his mother, to put her finger upon a 
 positive fault, and say to him, This needs 
 repentance and forgiveness. His perfectly 
 healthy physical frame, too, was a great aid 
 to him in this easy kind of life. He was never 
 sick, never unhappy, never knew a real want 
 of any kind. Life was a beautiful summer 
 day, and he floated along through it, plucking 
 all its sweet flowers, loving every thing he saw 
 with a warm, glad heart, neither uneasy for hia 
 future himself, or giving cause for anxiety to 
 those he loved best. How different it was with 
 Willie ! Delicate in body, sensitive and shrink- 
 ing in mind, sin, sorrow, shame, had been con- 
 10
 
 110 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 stantly before him. It is no wonder that his 
 mother's sincere piety was also greatly colored 
 by the circumstances of her life, and that, in 
 her education of her boy, she should early 
 have taught him strict self-examination into his 
 motives for action, and a clinging sense of de- 
 pendence upon the love and mercy of God, to 
 be a shield and buckler from the many tempta- 
 tions to which he must be exposed. Almost 
 all my young readers will say, that God was 
 much kinder in the events of life which He 
 ordered to James, than to Willie ; but they 
 must remember that it is those ' He loveth, He 
 chasteneth ; and scourgeth every son whom 
 He would bring near to Himself.' 
 
 But to return to our story. James had been 
 for Jerry, and the two boys came running to 
 meet Willie, almost out of breath. Jerry had 
 been at school, while his father was living, but 
 he was so singularly stupid that he made no 
 progress in his books ; and, moreover, he was so 
 much the butt of the school for his thickhead-
 
 JERRY. Ill 
 
 edness, that Mr. Lane was glad to have him 
 kept at home. When Willie caught a glimpse 
 of his great stupid face, he had little hope of 
 his improvement since those old school-days, 
 and some misgivings as to their power of ren- 
 dering him really useful. However, he received 
 him cordially, and laughed at the wry face 
 which James made up, as he stepped just be- 
 hind his new protege. 
 
 Patrick had the room all ready for them, 
 but shook his head when he saw Jerry, as 
 much as to say, " You can't do any thing with 
 him. Now, do you suppose you are smarter 
 than I am ? He beat me, and hell beat you. 
 But young folks always think they can do 
 every thing. The best way is to try and see." 
 
 Jerry blundered along, stumbling over every 
 obstacle that was in his way, until Pat, losing 
 his patience, exclaimed, " That boy, as sartin 
 as the world, has his eyes in the back of hia 
 head. He would beat his brains out against 
 the side of the mill, if some one did not call
 
 112 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 out to him ! " At that instant Jerry pitched 
 over a bale of cotton. " There, I told you sol " 
 said Pat, indignantly, while Jerr} 7 picked 
 himself up and commenced rubbing his hands 
 violently " he would fall over the sun, if it 
 happened to be in his way. He's a born dunce, 
 and when that happens, it a'n't no matter to 
 try to do any thing." 
 
 Jerry looked mortified. If he was a dunce, 
 he had sense enough to feel that he was igno- 
 rant and stupid ; or so at least Willie thought, 
 as he began to be sorry for the boy. 
 
 He wondered if Jerry might not feel weak, as 
 he did sometimes. Perhaps he had had no break- 
 Fast. Jerry's red face, however, precluded any 
 idea of very great physical weakness. No mat- 
 ter, he needed pity, or something else, or he 
 would grow into a useless man ; and then, 
 what would become of that poor mother and 
 all those little brothers and sisters ? 
 
 It is really singular, and shows plainly the 
 directing power of Go<?. that any pure, simple
 
 JERRY. 113 
 
 effort to do good seems to have a boundless 
 influence. It is not only the person or thing to 
 which the effort is applied, but all those tics 
 and relationships which bind together are 
 touched and influenced. Our story, in its prog- 
 ress, will specially illustrate this truth. 
 
 For the first hour after they commenced 
 work, James could do little but laugh at Jerry. 
 
 " Why, man alive," said he, looking over his 
 shoulder at the card he was busy upon, " did 
 you ever in your life see a bunch of flowers 
 tied up with their stems at the top ? See here 1 
 here is a rose with its petals hanging down, as 
 if some child had broken it and run ; and there 
 is a daisy that must have grown in the sky, 
 and come down head first ! Jerry, you ought 
 to have nothing but hare-bells ; they grow 
 your fashion." 
 
 Willie could not help laughing, but, taking 
 off the pattern, he said, in a cheerful tone. 
 
 " Never mind, Jerry, you have to pound iron 
 hard, you know, to make it fit, but when it's done 
 10*
 
 114 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 it isn't easy moving it. Now, it will be just so 
 with you ; pound away at flowers, and when you 
 once find out where the stems belong, there 
 will be no getting it out of you. Here, see 
 here ! these little things are stems ; stems never 
 go round so, like the flowers. Now take up 
 another piece, and show me which is stem and 
 which is flower." 
 
 Jerry fumbled away among the bits of cali- 
 co. At length he produced a queer-looking 
 pattern, a thing which Pat had so truly pro- 
 nounced " only a pattern." Having surveyed 
 it carefully on all four sides, he at length de- 
 cided, and with a very triumphant air held it 
 up to Willie. 
 
 " See here ! there," pointing to the nondescript 
 things, "there is a rose, with the leaves 
 straight up like a ramrod ; and here is a daisy 
 growing why yes, James said so out of the 
 sky, and and a cabbage, I guess, growing- 
 why, in Mr. Carter's tater patch, I think." 
 
 This was a great effort for Jerry, and, snp-
 
 JERRY. 115 
 
 posing the boys' laugh one of approval at hia 
 smartness, he would have gone on ; but Willie 
 told him there were no flowers there " he 
 could put that on any way, one would do as 
 well as another." 
 
 " Why, I thought there was a whole lot on 
 'um, a kind of nosegay," said Jerry, not a little 
 disappointed. 
 
 Teaching Jerry occupied and amused the 
 boys so much, that the clock struck twelve long 
 before they were ready for it. To their sur- 
 prise they found that they had not accom- 
 plished as much as they had even the day 
 before. 
 
 When they came back from dinner, they 
 found Jerry already there, and a great variety 
 of pieces spread out all over the floor. 
 
 " Oh ! Willie," he said, eagerly, " I have put 
 all these stems down. Now look ! look ! I shall 
 only have to paste them right on." 
 
 " What a busy boy you have been," said 
 James, looking at the patch-work floor. " Cer-
 
 116 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 tainly you have one right in fifty, if this is the 
 
 top." 
 
 . " Yes, that is the top. And I have turned, 
 
 and turned, and turned them ever since .you 
 
 went away. I meant to have some right, any 
 
 how." 
 
 " You are industrious as a bee," said James, 
 kindly. " You'll make a man yet, only keep 
 on." 
 
 " You beat us in punctuality, at any rate," 
 said Willie ; " and Mr. Lane says that is a 
 prime virtue, the root of all others." 
 
 " I didn't go away," said Jerry, looking a 
 little ashamed. 
 
 "Oh! you brought your dinner with you. 
 Well, that is a grand idea. Let's you and I do 
 so to-morrow, Willie," said James. 
 
 " No, I didn't bring my dinner, either," an- 
 swered Jerry, sulkily. " A fellow can stay 
 without eating, I suppose, if he has a mind to." 
 
 " If he has a mind, certainly," said James, 
 not a little astonished. "My father has no
 
 JERRY. 117 
 
 laws to compel his hands to eat, that I know 
 of; bit you don't mean that you have been here 
 all day without anything to eat?" 
 
 " I a'n't hungry," said Jerry, beginning to 
 rearrange his patterns. 
 
 " But you see I know better than that," said 
 James, gently. " There never was a boy that 
 was not hungry. My mother and she knows 
 everything says, a good appetite is as regular 
 a part of a boy, as going to sleep at night." 
 
 " I don't care, I don't want any dinner," 
 persisted Jerry, putting all the patterns he 
 had straight crooked. "I a'n't hungry one 
 bit." 
 
 James was putting on his overcoat, though 
 be had but just taken it off. " Where are you 
 going ? " asked Willie, in surprise. 
 
 " I am just going out a minute or so. ; I will 
 go and tell my father first, so you needn't be 
 troubled," said James, and away he went. 
 
 While he was gone, Willie went hard to 
 work to teach Jerry. The boj had much con-
 
 118 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 fidence in him, and felt sure of being neither 
 petted nor laughed at. It is wonderful what a 
 key to every thing a kind word is. It unlocks 
 not only the heart, but the head. Jerry really 
 began to have some idea of what he was to do. 
 Willie's comparison of the iron was not so bad 
 a one. Jerry was quite as hard and intrac- 
 table, but a gentle word came down with so 
 much more weight than a mallet would ! Jerry 
 had been thumped with these all his lifetime, 
 and only became stiffer and more stubborn. 
 By the time James returned, he was really at 
 work. To be sure he took a great while to 
 decide, but when once placed, Willie saw, to 
 his delight, that they were right. 
 
 James came in, with a little covered basket 
 in his hand. How red his cheeks were, and 
 how his eyes literally danced with happiness ! 
 "There," he said, putting the basket down 
 before Jerry, "eat away, like a trooper. I 
 could not do the first thing with such a hungry 
 fellow here. Why, man, I should have been
 
 JERRY. 119 
 
 expecting to see you eat up the whole basket 
 of calico before night ! " 
 
 Jerry stared. The most stupid stare the boys 
 ever saw on his face. Poor boy ! he had never 
 had such a kind thing done for him before in 
 all his life, and it is no wonder that he could 
 not comprehend it now. 
 
 "Well, I declare, he don't know what I 
 mean ! See here, Jerry ! it's nothing but to 
 open your mouth, and eat this piece of pie and 
 that cake ; and, yes I thought it wouldn't bo 
 like mother to forget here is a big slice of 
 bread, and some cold meat. Come, fall too, 
 Jerry ; let us see how fast it can go." Still 
 Jerry stared. At last he said, 
 
 " It's a full mile there, every inch on't." 
 
 " Mile where, Jerry ? " 
 
 " Why, down there to Mr. Ashton's house. 
 It's a full mile out, and another back ! " 
 
 " Well, what of that ? " 
 
 "And he went," continued Jerry, as if talk* 
 ing to himself, " clean there and back."
 
 120 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 " That's a fact ; but it don't hurt your din- 
 ner." 
 
 " I couldn't eat a mouthful, nohow. It a'n't 
 fair; I can't eat them things," pushing the 
 basket resolutely away ; " not if I were twice 
 as hungry I wouldn't." 
 
 " That is not fair," said James, laughing 
 heartily, " now I have gone and done it, not 
 to eat it ! Why, I took a bit myself, to keep 
 up my strength ; so you needn't be afraid. I 
 am not delicate, mother says." 
 
 " But you are the best fellow I ever saw in 
 my life," said Willie, who had been looking on 
 with glistening eyes. " Come, Jerry, eat away, 
 and then you can work the faster. I can never 
 do much if I am hungry, real hungry, I mean ; 
 for all my strength gives way." 
 
 James wondered if Willie was not hungry 
 too ; but the pale child stood there, with his 
 sufferings and his wants wrapped in an im- 
 penetrable veil of self-respect. James would 
 not for the world have hinted at what he more
 
 JERRY. 121 
 
 than half suspected. Still Jerry looked at the 
 cover of the basket without raising it. 
 
 " Well, Willie," said James, thinking of an 
 expedient which might assist each one, " you 
 and I can eat it if Jerry can't ; " so he lifted the 
 cover, and, with a look which Willie under- 
 stood, handed him a piece of pie. " There are 
 two more," he said, peeping in, " one apiece. I 
 never saw any thing like mother, she always 
 thinks of everybody. Who would have thought 
 she would have remembered you and I ? I only 
 asked for dinner for one." 
 
 Willie took his pie ; and the three boys, 
 sitting down on boxes, began to eat. To whom 
 did it taste the best it would be difficult to 
 say. Jerry was very hungry ; he could forget 
 or stifle it, but, when food was once tasted, he 
 devoured it ravenously. Willie had slipped 
 his piece of bread and butter on to Lotty's 
 plate when his mother had not observed him ; 
 and how rewarded he felt, as the little soft 
 hand patted his cheek for thanks ! He did not 
 11
 
 122 WIN ANi/ WEAR. 
 
 know that he was hungry, for he rarely knew 
 what it was to be satisfied, but never did any 
 thing taste better than that piece of Mrs. Ash- 
 ton's nice pie. 
 
 James had the delight of doing good. Need 
 I say another word for his enjoyment to my 
 young reader ? 
 
 When night came, all three were astonish- 
 ed to see how little they had accomplished, 
 scarcely more than the day before. Yet they 
 were much less discouraged, and parted, prom- 
 ising wonderful success and diligence on the 
 morrow. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Sumner had gone busily on 
 with his work, growing daily more and more 
 interested in it. And, as a spark of his 
 old love for intellectual employment was re- 
 kindled, he strove against the cravings of his 
 appetite for drink with more of manly energy 
 than his friends had dared to hope remained 
 within him. How his wife watched And prayed 
 for him! How Willie, kneeling, tired and
 
 JERRY. 123 
 
 sleepy at night, was suddenly roused, by thought 
 of the sober father whose step he heard even 
 then pacing steadily up and down the small 
 room below, to utter such fervent .thanks to 
 Him who had caused this light to spring up in 
 their darkness.
 
 IV. 
 
 Jfatin Grammar. 
 
 A WHOLE week of vacation a very long 
 ** week it was too, to James passed before 
 the coat was earned. But it was a happy 
 hour when, the money being transferred from 
 their pockets to Mrs. Ashton's hand, the over- 
 coat was put upon Willie : and running faster 
 than he ever remembered to have ran before, 
 he burst into his mother's room with, 
 
 " Three cheers for the overcoat ! Here it is. 
 James and I have a right to it, for we have 
 won it ; earned every cent, and paid it too." 
 
 " Well," said his mother, smiling, " is it still 
 joint property ? Who is to wear it, James, or 
 you?" 
 
 " Why, as James can't, I suppose I must. 
 And I will be very careful of it too, so War- 
 
 (124)
 
 LATIN GRAMMAR. 125 
 
 reii can have it when he grows up to be a big 
 boy." 
 
 Warren was already intently studying into 
 the mysteries of the pockets ; and when he 
 drew out his little hands, drew out also two 
 small bundles. One was marked, as Willie 
 quickly saw, " Lotty," and the other " Warren." 
 In one was a pretty doll, with four or five sets of 
 dresses a tiny doll, but with such pretty red 
 cheeks and shiny black eyes ; and in the other, 
 a dozen marblss, all kinds and colors. War- 
 ren's eyes weie as shiny as the doll's, when 
 Willie placed ihem all in his big hand and 
 told .him they were his. How much more 
 valuable this coat was already ! Even Lotty 
 seemed to have an idea that it was connected 
 with happiness, for she laid her soft cheek 
 on the velvet collar, and patted it, with her 
 expression of love. 
 
 Warren went down again and again to the 
 bottom of the pockets. He could hardly be 
 persuaded that they did not contain a whole 
 11*
 
 126 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 toy-shop full of pretty things j and alternately 
 eyed his marbles and the coat, as if the relation 
 between them was most mysterious. 
 
 Willie had accomplished his object ; and 
 every day at the mill seemed to have added 
 months to the purpose and plan .of his life. 
 He had been busy thinking, while Jerry and 
 James were talking thinking over his future 
 life ; not with the vague dreaming of a boy, 
 but with aims and minute plans. There is 
 only one into which we feel at liberty to intro- 
 duce our reader. He wished to follow his grand- 
 father's profession, and be a minister. Many 
 a boy, poor, delicate, and with fewer friends 
 than Willie possessed, had become rich men 
 and some, great men. Willie was well ac- 
 quainted with their lives ; and their struggles 
 had often encouraged him, when the obstacles 
 by which he was surrounded seemed almost in- 
 surmountable. But his ambition was not to 
 make money, it was not to be great ; but it 
 was to be good, and do good, to obtain the
 
 LATIN GRAMMAR. 127 
 
 Christian's hope, to get an education, and bo 
 come a minister. These were Willie's first and 
 dearest wishes. It was of these things that 
 he had thought and planned, as he stood busy 
 with his pattern cards, in the noisy mill. And 
 the earning of this coat the ability to possess 
 himself, by effort, of what he wished was an 
 epoch in his young life. He did not stop to 
 consider that he had not done this alone : 
 neither did he annoy himself with the wonder 
 whether he should have succeeded. He knew 
 he should, unless sickness, or something in- 
 dependent of himself, should happen to pre- 
 vent it ; and this is, after all, the first proof "in 
 a boy of ability to succeed self-reliance. I 
 mean true self-reliance, founded on a knowl- 
 edge of one's own power, and the conscious- 
 ness of rectitude, rights thoughts and feelings, 
 and a right manner of living. It underlies 
 manhood. It is the gold, the precious ore 
 of character ; and without it no one can 
 really prosper, can become either truly great,
 
 128 WIN AND WEAK. 
 
 or good To-niglit Willie was filled with 
 thoughts of the future. He wished the children 
 would go to bed, so that he might have an op- 
 portunity to talk with his mother before his 
 father came home. But he did not mean to 
 begin by doing wrong ; and he knew that to 
 wish to send them away before their time, par- 
 ticularly when they were so occupied and 
 delighted with their playthings, would be sel- 
 fish, and consequently wrong. It is so much 
 easier to plan for being good in the future, and 
 in some very important way, thaa to start 
 right about it in the very first little thing 
 which tempts to sinl Willie had been 
 thoroughly taught this by his mother, and his 
 own rapidly developing Christian character, 
 had daily impressed him with its truth and im- 
 portance. There is hardly a child who thinks 
 at all, who does not mean at some time, and in 
 some way, to be a Christian. But how few 
 there are who are willing to begin while they 
 are children, by trying to do right in a very
 
 LATIN GRAMMAR. 129 
 
 small matter. To-night, if "Willie had asked 
 his mother to send the children away, and had 
 told her why he wished it, she would probably 
 have sent them at once ; but would Willie have 
 been as near the greatest of his wishes, that of 
 being a good man ? We leave it for our young 
 friends to answer for themselves. Time would 
 have gone slowly ; but after Willie had decided 
 that he would not be selfish- so immediately 
 does one good thing lead to another he de- 
 cided he would do something to make the 
 children happy ; and he gathered them all 
 about him, and began to show them how to 
 play marbles. His mother never suspected, as 
 he sat there on the floor, surrounded by the 
 little group, so cheerful and patient, that her 
 boy's heart was really aching for an hour's 
 long, free talk with her. Nor was Willie to 
 have it to-night, for, before bedtime came, his 
 father returned, and the table was soon covered 
 with yellow, soiled papers, filled with writing. 
 He told Willie he would be there busy, and re-
 
 130 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 quire a quiet room all the evening ; so the boy 
 went to bed, and tried to keep awake until hia 
 mother should come up. Sleep, however, over- 
 powered him ; and, when Mrs. Sumner came 
 softly in, the beautiful moonlight streamed 
 across her boy's sleeping face. How peaceful 
 and gentle it looked in its soft beams ! She 
 could not help fancying, as she bent over him 
 to kiss him, that it almost encircled his head 
 with a halo. In spite of her good sense, she 
 went to bed a little troubled ; she fancied he 
 had looked more than usually pale, and a 
 shadow fell over her heart unlike any that had 
 rested there before. 
 
 Very early on the next morning Willio 
 wakened, and hastened down, hoping he might 
 find his mother awake and up before the rest 
 of the family. Yes, there she was, sweeping, 
 dusting, and at the same time preparing break- 
 fast, all in such a neat, handy manner, that 
 Willie watched her without being able to in- 
 terrupt her. He could assist her in many little
 
 LATIN GRAMMAR. 131 
 
 ways, anil was frequently rewarded by a smile, 
 or word of approbation. 
 
 " You are as handy as a girl," his mother 
 said, as he laid the table, with that care which 
 even in her reduced circumstances she was 
 anxious to retain. " If I cannot do more for 
 the comfort of my children, I can at least," 
 Mrs. Sumner often said to herself, " give them 
 the advantage of neat and proper personal hab- 
 its. They can be refined, if they cannot be rich." 
 So she guarded them in every little thing ; and 
 often, when almost too sick or weary to move, 
 busied herself in carefully removing every 
 speck of dust, or in placing their scanty furni- 
 ture so that it should appear more cheerful and 
 tasteful. Mrs. Sumner had certainly brought 
 the spirit of the old pleasant parsonage to her 
 own destitute home. 
 
 Willie had early imbibed this spirit. He 
 loved to aid his mother in all these efforts, and 
 through the summer had made it his especial 
 care to keep the flower vases only cracked
 
 132 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 tumblers to be sure, but none the worse for 
 that filled with fresh wild-flowers. Hi? 
 mother seemed so occupied this morning, that 
 Willie had the feeling of its being selfish to 
 interrupt her for what so entirely pertained 
 to himself, when, happily for him, she noticed 
 his unusually earnest face, and said, the thought 
 of her last night's fear crossing her mind, 
 " Willie, are you sick to-day ? " 
 
 " No, mother, not one bit," said Willie, 
 cheerfully. " I am only busy as a bee planning 
 out oh ! lots of pleasant things." 
 
 " Such as what ? " asked his mother, smiling. 
 
 " Why, such as growing up to be a man, and 
 being a minister, and taking you home to a 
 parsonage like grandfather's ! " 
 
 There was a slight trembling in Willie's 
 voice, which specially attracted his mother's 
 attention. She looked earnestly at him, and 
 said, 
 
 " My poor boy ! have you already begun to 
 think of the future? It has been my daily
 
 LATIN GRAMMAR. 133 
 
 prayer for you, ever since you were born, that 
 you might be as good a minister as your 
 grandfather ; but every year we go further and 
 further from the power of giving you an edu- 
 cation." 
 
 " I don't want you to give me one, mother. 
 If you will let me, I will earn one for my- 
 self." 
 
 " If you were a great strong boy, and had 
 no home-care, you might succeed ; but, as it is, 
 perhaps it will be best not to think much of 
 it." 
 
 Willie's countenance fell. His mother's 
 word was law. He had not been accustomed 
 to dispute it, even in thought, but he had never 
 so much to give up before. It was very hard ; 
 and, in spite of his efforts, tears dropped upon 
 his hands. 
 
 "Willie," said his mother, very soberly, 
 
 " you are a young boy yet, not eleven. If you 
 
 are really very desirous to have an education, 
 
 suppose we only put it aside for a year, then 
 
 12
 
 134 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 see how we shall be situated at the end of that 
 time. Can you wait happily ? " 
 
 " I will try, mother. But I thought now 
 Mr. Ashton has given me work, and father 
 was earning, so you wouldn't need it very 
 much, if I could take what I earn, and buy 
 me a Latin grammar, I could make a begin- 
 ning. There are only four of our boys who 
 study Latin, and every term they get further 
 on, away from me." 
 
 " How much would the grammar cost ? " 
 
 " Seventy-five cents," said Willie, sorrow- 
 fully. " I know it is a great deal, almost as 
 much as my overcoat." 
 
 " And that is only one thing in a very ex- 
 pensive course. But, Willie, if you will prom- 
 ise only to work half of the day you may 
 begin, and we will feel our way along care- 
 fully. I would not say much of your wishes 
 to any one, because it is most probable you 
 \r'll not be able to earn the grammar after all." 
 
 " Thank you. thank you, dear mother," said
 
 LATIN GRAMMAR. 135 
 
 Willie, throwing his arms about her neck, and 
 kissing her. " If you saj so, 1 know I shall 
 succeed ; for I have asked God so many times 
 to keep me from doing a selfish thing about 
 it, and guide me into the right way ! He 
 wouldn't let me do wrong, when I have never 
 forgotten for so long to pray to be kept from 
 it, would he, mother ? " 
 
 " Often, Willie," said his mother, " when we 
 are very desirous of doing a thing, we are apt 
 to take the permanency of our own wishes for 
 a special indication of the divine blessing ; but 
 I do not see any thing selfish or wrong in this 
 case. To be a minister implies being a very 
 good man, and working all your life long for 
 God." 
 
 " I know it, mother ; and that seems so beau- 
 tiful to me. I had rather do something for 
 Jesus than be a king, or as rich a man as 
 Croesus. 7 
 
 " God bless you, darling," said his mother, 
 fondly. " I don't know how I can ever find it
 
 136 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 in my heart to murmur at any of His dispen- 
 sations." 
 
 Willie did not quite understand her, nor was 
 it necessary that he should. And just now the 
 baby began to cry, and Lotty's soft step stole 
 into the kitchen. 
 
 "She comes like a sunbeam, mother," said 
 Willie, looking at her sweet face. " She is so 
 gentle, and still, and so very lovely, that I 
 never see her come in but I think God gave 
 her to us without any other voice than he gives 
 the sunbeams and the flowers ; and that, while 
 she cannot hear us, she is all the time hearing 
 the angels, and tells us what they say whenever 
 we look at her. Now, see ! I am sure no one 
 ever smiled like that. Don't you believe she 
 nas heard things to-night which make her holy. 
 Sometimes I have almost a fear of her, she 
 seems so pure and good, so different from us 
 earthly little children." 
 
 " She is a precious child," said her mother, 
 drawing her to her. " People call us afflicted,
 
 LATIN GRAMMAR. 137 
 
 because God sent her to us so ; but I think, as 
 you do, Willie, that she is almost an angel, sent 
 to comfort and sustain us." And so mother 
 and son talked before this deaf and dumb 
 child these thoughts of love writing them- 
 selves so legibly upon their faces that the 
 child, to whom the language of words was 
 forever forbidden, interpreted this silent and 
 true language, with a keen appreciation which 
 sound alone could never convey. And her 
 own face was, in truth, as radiant as the sun- 
 beam to which Willie had compared her. 
 
 After breakfast Willie must go to Mr. 
 Ashton's to ask leave to continue his work. 
 This was readily given, though Mrs. Ashton 
 thought with regret of those pale, thin cheeks, 
 growing paler and thinner by such constant 
 confinement. And when she said so to Willie, 
 he told her his mother had prohibited his 
 working more than half the day, so that he 
 should have more playtime than he would know 
 what to do with. 
 12*
 
 188 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 James rejoiced much more at this part than 
 at the other. He had had all he wanted of 
 the mill, and never failed, at every convenient 
 opportunity, to repeat to his father his inten- 
 tion of never being a manufacturer. 
 
 When Willie returned to the mill he found 
 Jerry still at work. The iron was fairly bent ; 
 and the boy, proving industrious and persever- 
 ing, was already beginning to help his mother. 
 Willie was glad to find him there ; boys are 
 very social, and work is twice as easy when 
 done in company. So these two boys worked 
 and talked, day after day, James coming in 
 occasionally to make them a call, until their 
 vacation was over. 
 
 Willie had worked very diligently, but had 
 not earned more than sixty-two cents. He 
 can not be said to have been disappointed, for 
 he had only hoped, not expected, to buy his 
 grammar for this term. Still, when he went 
 to school and heard Mr. Lane say that he 
 should review his class in Latin, which would
 
 LATIN GRAMMAR. 139 
 
 afford an opportunity for any other boy who 
 wished to study it, and was willing to study 
 hard, to join it, he felt grieved and dispirited, 
 and could not forbear telling his mother about it. 
 
 " It was a great pity," so his mother thought 
 and said, and she went at once to work to help 
 her boy, if she could. Fortunately she had the 
 money, and brought it to him ; but Willie 
 entirely refused to touch it. " I must win, if I 
 would wear," mother, he said ; and resolutely 
 restraining his tears, returned to school. As he 
 was taking his seat, school not having yet com- 
 menced, Liua came up to him, and putting her 
 little hand, warm from a nice new mitten, into 
 his, said, " Willie, you looked as if you were 
 not happy when you went home this noon. Do 
 you want to go back into papa's mill to work ? 
 I should not think it was half as nice as thia 
 school-room, where we all are." 
 
 " Did I look unhappy, Lina ? " said Willie, 
 whispering very softly. " I was a naughty boy, 
 if I did. I am happy.'
 
 140 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 " No, you are not ! " persisted Liua ; " you 
 have that very same look now, as if you would 
 like to cry, only you are ashamed to because 
 you are a boy. Are your fingers cold, or what 
 is it?" 
 
 Willie smiled. It was the promptings of 
 nature which made him whisper, forgetting 
 for a moment his mother's injunction of silence, 
 "It is nothing, only I wanted to study Latin, 
 and I could not quite earn my grammar. So 
 you see how silly I am not nearly as brave 
 as you would be, Lina, if you are a girl." 
 
 " Is that all ? " said Lina, opening her blue 
 eyes very wide with astonishment ; " why, that 
 is just nothing at all. Latin is hateful ; Sam 
 Johnson says it is." 
 
 " But I don't think so," said Willie, more 
 than half tempted to finish his confidence by 
 telling why he was so anxious to study it. " I 
 am going to study it, you see ; and I only felt 
 badly to lose this fine chance." 
 
 " Why, you needn't lose it ; if you really
 
 LATIN GRAMMAR. 141 
 
 are so silly as to want to learn those queer- 
 sounding words, I will bring you a book tliig 
 very afternoon. Father said he meant to do 
 a great deal for you, and this is only very 
 little- one book." 
 
 " Stop, Lina ! " said Willie, almost terrified 
 at \tfhat he had done ; " you must promise me 
 never to say a word to your father or James 
 about it, or I never will, never, tell you any 
 thing again in the world. Promise me, Lina, 
 please do, quick ! or I shall be so sorry I said 
 a word." 
 
 " I will not promise you," said Lina, looking 
 decided ; " I will tell father, and you shall have 
 the new book." 
 
 "Then, Lina, I shall never love you any 
 more," said Willie, sorrowfully. 
 
 " You will ! everybody loves me. James says 
 I plague him awfully sometimes, but still he 
 can't help loving me. And beside, I don't plague 
 you ; I only get you a nice new book." 
 
 " I can not take it, if you bring it ; because,
 
 142 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 Lina, you see, I have promised myself never to 
 wear what I can not win," 
 
 " Well, you don't want to wear a Latin gram- 
 mar, do you?" said Lina, very much puzzled. 
 
 " Not on my. head, but in it, Lina," said 
 Willie, laughing. " Now, be a good child, and 
 promise me." 
 
 " I will not tell father, then," said Lina, eva- 
 sively, " if you are so cross about it." 
 
 " Nor your mother, nor James ! " 
 
 " Why, no, not if I can't ; but I think it very 
 odd." Lina kept her word just as far as it 
 went ; but at recess she was at Mr. Lane's desk, 
 and had whispered to him the whole story. 
 
 Mr. Lane looked very thoughtful. Lina did 
 not like it ; she expected he would take a book 
 up at once, and give it to Willie. She thought 
 him both cross and selfish, when he simply 
 said, " I will attend to this some other time ; 1 
 am busy now, you see, Lina. Run away, and 
 play 1 " 
 
 Lina would not play. She went to her desk,
 
 LATIN GRAMMAR. 143 
 
 and sat down, and pouted ; feeling that botli 
 Mr. Lane and Willie were very foolish and 
 obstinate. 
 
 That night, after school, Mr. Lane contrived 
 to walk home with Willie, and, in the course 
 of a pleasant conversation, asked him if he 
 wished to study Latin. Willie confessed that 
 he did, very much. Mr. Lane wisely forbore 
 to make any inquiries about his future plans, 
 but when they parted said, " I have a gram- 
 mar most as good as new for anybody, and 
 quite as good as new for you. for you are 
 careful and tidy in the use of your books. 
 Now you may have it for fifty cents, and that 
 is allowing you twenty-five cents about a fair 
 discount for the use I have already had out 
 of it." 
 
 Bless you, Mr. Lane ! You may have 
 offered many cups of cold water before in your 
 life, but surely never to such a thirsty child 
 as this. I have written a blessing upon you for 
 it, but you will not value that j you know full
 
 144 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 well that there is one registered for you by 
 Him who promised it to those who should 
 assist His very least. 
 
 "Mother," said Willie, rushing into the 
 house with even more delight than when he 
 had brought home the new coat, " I have it ! 
 I have it ! Mr. Lane, of his own accord, offered 
 me a grammar for fifty cents ! " 
 
 *' And now for the Latin, I suppose, Willie," 
 said his mother, with her quick sympathy. 
 
 " And for college, theological seminary, and 
 a parish!" added Willie, buoyant with the 
 prospect of that happy coming future.
 
 VII 
 
 UNFORTUNATELY for Willie, the grain- 
 mar was not the only book needed to com 
 plete his education. It was not many weeks, 
 after commencing Latin, before he found a 
 large dictionary, like what the other boys 
 used, would be of the greatest assistance to 
 him. Mr. Lane kindly lent him his, whenever 
 the lesson required it ; but Willie, having to 
 study hard to keep up with a class who had 
 the advantage of many months' previous in- 
 struction, thought, if he could only have one 
 of his own, to use in these winter-evening 
 hours which he devoted to his Latin, he should 
 learn so much faster, and with so much greater 
 ease. All his father's college books had been 
 long since sold. A dictionary cost, oh! so 
 much money. Willie named the sum over 
 13 (145)-
 
 146 WIN AND WEAK. 
 
 again and again, as if hoping to lessen it, but 
 it was of no use. He could not work at the 
 mill. The days were so short and dark that 
 it was only by being very industrious he could 
 accomplish what he did. After an evening of 
 uncommon vexation and trouble for want of 
 this book, Willie went up to bed. He seated 
 himself, to read his evening portion of his 
 Bible, upon an old red hair trunk. It had 
 always been there. Willie had seen it ever 
 since he could remember. When very little, he 
 had loved to creep out of bed early in the 
 morning, and put his fingers upon the small 
 brass-headed nails which attached the straight 
 brown leather to its edges. He had never 
 thought of opening it ; indeed, I doubt whether 
 he knew it could be opened. It was the only 
 seat in his small room, and it had never been 
 any thing but a seat to him. As he sat down 
 upon it to-night, tired, and a little heavy- 
 hearted at the constant surmounting of ob- 
 Btacles which seemed to make so great a part
 
 THE OLD TRUNK. 147 
 
 of his life, his eye wandered from it to hia 
 Bible. He did not think of it ; but he saw it 
 constantly. At last he roused himself from 
 his listless condition, and, turning to a Psalm 
 which was always full of comfort to him, be- 
 gan to read : " The Lord is my Shepherd ; I 
 shall not want." Willie stopped to think over 
 this ; " I shall not want 1 " What a world of 
 comfort and solace there was in these words, to 
 that boy ! It seemed to him to-night that it 
 never had been so full of meaning before. 
 " The Lord is my Shepherd ; " and this little 
 fainting lamb laid hold of the promise, and 
 praying earnestly for help and aid, he rose from 
 his knees relieved and happy. " I wonder," he 
 said aloud to himself, " if it would not be right 
 to ask God to help me to get a dictionary." 
 Willie had much reverence in his nature, but 
 he was also confiding and trustful. The more 
 he thought now of this, the more sure lie felt 
 that it was the object of prayer to ask God's 
 help in whatever was right ; and, in a child's
 
 148 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 way, the object for which he wished the book 
 mixed itself up with the dictionary. No longer 
 doubting its propriety, he knelt again, and 
 asked in simple, earnest words for it. 
 
 As he rose, his eye fell upon the old trunk 
 with a peculiar interest. He tried the lid ; it 
 was locked. Then he remembered that his 
 mother had told him it once belonged to his 
 grandfather, and now contained a few of the 
 things of his which remained. 
 
 He determined to ask her to let him examine 
 them. Perhaps there were sermons there, and 
 he might learn from them how to write his 
 own. Perhaps there were books ; yes, yes, he 
 hardly dared indulge the thought! but who 
 could say that the very dictionary he needed 
 was not hidden away there ! He grew so eager 
 to examine it, that he could hardly make up 
 his mind to go to sleep and wait quietly for 
 the morning. If he had not noticed that his 
 mother was looking pale when he came up to 
 bed, he would certainly have dressed himselfj
 
 THE OLD TEUNK. 14t> 
 
 and, cold as it was, made sure of what was 
 there before another hour nad passed. But 
 this could not be done. He must be patient ; 
 and so at last he was, and fell asleep. 
 
 The first thing he saw next morning, when 
 he opened. his eyes, was the sun streaming in 
 upon the short, shining hair of the trunk. He 
 wondered he had never noticed how peculiar 
 looking it was before ; what kind of an animal 
 it was that oould have had such a skin ; in 
 what country it lived ; who killed it ; and a 
 variety of queries which were entirely new to 
 him. 
 
 He dressed quickly ; but, even hurried as he 
 was, he did not forget to pray. My young 
 readers must have noticed that Willie was a 
 praying child. This was undoubtedly the rea- 
 son why God blessed him. His mother had 
 almost forgotten that the trunk could unlock. 
 It had not been opened for years. She remem- 
 bered to have put away in it a few old books, 
 and many papers, which her father had once 
 13*
 
 150 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 considered valuable. But they were of no use 
 to her, except as relics ; and as such she treas- 
 ured them. She found the key without diffi- 
 culty her things were always in their place 
 and went up with Willie, thinking the lock 
 would probably be rustv, it was so long since 
 it had been turned. It made a thrill of early 
 associations pass over her, as she put in the 
 key. Unnoticed as it had been for years, it 
 seemed suddenly to have acquired a power 
 and life of its own. It brought before her 
 quickly the neat, quiet study, where, for years 
 and years, it had always occupied one corner ; 
 and of the father, whose grey hairs had been 
 brought so soon to the grave, when he knew 
 that the blight had fallen over her life. 
 
 Thoughts are busy things. Mrs. Sumner, 
 while that key was turning, found her past 
 life all unlocked ; and as she raised the cover, 
 it was almost like drawing back a curtain 
 which was veiling the past. Every thing re- 
 mained as she had packed it in that study, the
 
 THE OLD TRUNK. 151 
 
 day after her fathers funeral. She had re- 
 moved the books which always stood upon hia 
 study table, and then the papers from his pri- 
 vate drawers and desks. They had never been 
 examined since. Willie had told her why he 
 wished to search it now ; so, charging him to 
 be as quick as possible, and not remain long 
 in the cold, she went down. Willie began to 
 lift the papers, carefully and reverently. 
 There were several bundles tied up with red 
 tape, like those he used to see in his father's 
 office. Then there were large piles of closely- 
 written manuscript ; sermons, without doubt. 
 Willie felt as if a mine of wealth had opened 
 to him, as he put them, also, reverently aside. 
 Then he began to discover the edges of some 
 well-kept books. Brown they were, and very 
 smooth, as if they had been used as well as kept. 
 Eagerly lifting one, he found it was a volume of 
 Barrow's Sermons ; another was an old Com- 
 mentary on the Romans ; then came Baxter's 
 Saints' Rest ; Doddridge's Rise and Progress ;
 
 152 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 a large Bible, with close references this Willie 
 took out ; he would ask his mother to give it 
 to him. One or two Greek books ; a Latin 
 book. He was now almost at the bottom of 
 the trunk ; there remained but one layer more. 
 Willie hardly dared to look. He had so cer- 
 tainly expected the dictionary, that not to find 
 it now would really be a disappointment. 
 He began to raise first one, then another, very 
 slowly. No, no, no, he said, hardly looking, 
 excepting to see they were not tJie book. At 
 last, the very last book there was seemed to 
 promise, by its size, that it might be it. It 
 took both of Willie's small hands to lift it. 
 He was so eager to see if it was right that, 
 when he held it before his eyes, the letters 
 grew dim, and wavered to and fro as. if they 
 were playing catcher with him. He did finally 
 read dictionary, and, opening it, read a Latin 
 word. If Willie had found, as we sometimes 
 read in story-books, bank bills between every 
 leaf, he would not have been half so delight-
 
 " He dance! around the room almost wild with joy. 
 
 Win and Wear. 
 
 p. 153.
 
 THE OLD TRUNK. 153 
 
 ed. He hugged and kissed it as if it was a 
 thing of life sent to be loved. He danced 
 around the room, almost wild with joy ; and, 
 forgetting the things which he had strewed all 
 over the floor, he ran to carry his treasure 
 down to his mother. Hir father had heard 
 the noise he had been making in the room 
 above, and chid him sharply for it as he came 
 in. But Willie scarcely heard him ; he had not 
 meant to do wrong, and here was the book. 
 His mother smiled, and motioned for him to 
 be a little more quiet in his joy. She respected 
 the struggle which her husband was making 
 for a new life, and would not allow his weak- 
 ened nerves to be jarred by a single discordant 
 sound at home. She felt as if she must nurse 
 him tenderly, as she would a convalescing 
 child. Willie obeyed instantly, slipping his 
 dictionary under his grammar. He went to his 
 morning task quietly and silently, and he was 
 more than repaid by his father putting hia 
 hand on his head, as he went out to school,
 
 154 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 and saying, in more fatherly tones than he had 
 heard for years, " Willie, you don't grow fast 
 enough ; you must take a start now, my 
 boy." 
 
 Now! Willie thought that word over and 
 over as he went to school. What a beautiful 
 time in his short life this now was fast be- 
 coming ! 
 
 Mr. Lane was scarcely less glad than Willie 
 to see the book. He knew how much he must 
 soon require it, and could not possibly contrive 
 any means by which he could help him to so 
 costly a work. "You will prize it doubly, 
 Willie," he said, " for being your grandfather s 
 and I hope you may live to make as good use 
 of it." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Willie ; " I hope so, 
 to o . If I am half as good a man as grandfather, 
 I shall be very thankful." 
 
 When Willie went to his sums, he found 
 himself drawing the old red trunk upon his 
 slate instead of setting down his figures. Thia
 
 THE OLD TRUNK. 155 
 
 was not right. Willie soon perceived it, and 
 went to work with more diligence, to make up 
 the lost moment ; but such possession had this 
 piece of furniture for it had long been noth- 
 ing else taken of his mind, that as soon as 
 dinner was over he hurried to his room, just 
 to have one look at these dear old sermons ! 
 What a small, neat hand they were all written 
 in ! It was almost illegible to Willie ; and, 
 after a half hour spent in trying to decypher 
 one, he gave it up, for the present at least. 
 
 There were those bundles with the red 
 strings : he laid those on the top, where he 
 could easily catch them up at any spare mo- 
 ment, and went again to school. There was 
 now no obstacle in his way. He had his tools, 
 but he was yet to show how much of a work- 
 man he would prove himself in their use. 
 "Fortune favors the brave" is a very good 
 maxim, but it is better to believe that Fortune 
 favors the industrious and earnest. Or, there 
 is another adage, which is truer and better
 
 156 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 still : " God helps him who helps himself.' 1 
 God had certainly helped Willie, and he had 
 also most patiently helped himself, and others 
 too ; for, as he went to the mill that morning, 
 Mr. Sumner thought often of his small, pale 
 boy. He could not help comparing him with 
 the many strong, robust boys whom he met 
 on their way to school. His conscience told 
 him that much of the puny appearance of his 
 own boy was owing to the want of that very care 
 which it was his business to provide. He could 
 not help wondering if he had always had 
 enough to eat. He had not thought about this 
 before ; indeed, for the last two years, he had 
 thought of little but how to provide himself 
 with the means of indulging his vicious habit. 
 From Willie, every member of his neglected 
 family he saw in a long, solemn row, repeat- 
 ing themselves over and over. Lotty, with 
 her soundless words, spoke to him in such be- 
 seeching tones God's messenger. Perhaps he 
 made this child deaf and dumb that the mes-
 
 THE OLD TRUNK. 157 
 
 sage she brought might seem to all to come 
 directly from Himself. 
 
 A girl seems nearer a father's heart than a 
 boy ; and this child, so clinging, so dependent, 
 how could he ever have forgotten her ! Mr. 
 Sunmer's thoughts were full of remorse. He 
 looked sober and sad as he entered the count- 
 ing-room, and Mr. Ashton noticed it with 
 pleasure. " If the, man begins really to repent 
 what he has done," he said to himself, " I shall 
 have much hope of him." 
 
 The law business proceeded slowly. Mr. 
 Sumner was industrious and persevering, but 
 not nearly as acute as before he had benumbed 
 his faculties by the use of intoxicating drinks. 
 Mr. Ashton did all he could to assist him, paid 
 him liberally, and promised, if he would give 
 him an undisputed right to the land, a hand- 
 some bonus. " If, by any luck," he said, " you 
 could find that old will, how invaluable it 
 would be ! " 
 
 "What is known of the parents 01 
 14
 
 158 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 friends of this poor widow?" asked Mr, 
 Simmer. 
 
 " I know nothing. I am no lawyer ; and so 
 long as she told me decidedly that both her 
 brothers were dead, and the will no longer, in 
 all probability, in existence, I gave myself no 
 further trouble in the matter. But, if you think 
 it necessary, the first day I can be spared from 
 my business you and I will drive over, and 
 you may use your lawyer's wit in interrogating 
 her as closely as you please." 
 
 " I really can do very little, except to clear 
 away some of this superadded rubbish, until I 
 see what hope there is of that. If the brothers 
 are dead, there is one heir, a girl, you said. 
 We must hunt her up." 
 
 So it was agreed upon ; and a month was 
 drawing to its close the first sober month 
 Mr. Sumner had known for years. To whom, 
 under God's blessing to Mr. Ash ton, or to his 
 own son, Willie did he owe this ? Our young 
 readers must decide for themselves. Neither
 
 THE OLD TRUNK. 159 
 
 Mr. Ashton or Willie asked the question. But, 
 eagerly as they watched him, they felt that 
 God was helping them, and that, perhaps, in 
 His infinite goodness, He might have in store 
 days of quiet home-life for the family of the 
 poor, despised drunkard.
 
 VIIL 
 
 fpHE cold, short days of winter were at last 
 A over, and in this coming in of the good 
 time no one rejoiced more heartily than the 
 school-children in Belden's Falls. Now there 
 would be a long vacation, and the spring va- 
 cation was but another name for such lovely 
 walks, such long and frequent sitting by the 
 little brQok-side, which, freed from the bonds 
 which had kept them so closely all the live- 
 long winter, seemed to these children like sym- 
 pathizing schoolmates just commencing their 
 vacation also. Every new spring came the 
 new young flowers. How easy it was to find 
 them by the stile, in the very middle of the 
 lane, back of Blunt's woods, close by the old 
 cottage, where Black Rose had lived always, 
 the children thought ! There were those blue- 
 
 (160)
 
 THE BEAN-FIELD. 161 
 
 eyed violets, so large, so sweet, with one tiny 
 drop of dew resting early in the morning upon 
 a falling leaf. What great hands full they 
 gathered there daily, until all the little folks 
 seemed to be turning into violets themselves ! 
 The spring-beauty there it was, clinging to 
 those* grey rocks, and tempting the hands that 
 plucked it to build houses, and castles, and 
 forts, and even whole cities around on those 
 shelves and wide crevices. They could wade 
 into the wet meadow for the yellow cowslip. 
 What did they care for wet feet? This was 
 the greatest sport of all, and the deeper in the 
 merrier the shout. Yes, this vacation was the 
 happiest time of all the happy year ; for every 
 thing was budding, fresh and green. It was 
 nature's childhood, and was only a part of the 
 great child-world. James and Willie had 
 studied hard. They were glad of rest and 
 change. James was delighted to have a time 
 for free sport, and Willie a time for mill- work. 
 How much he would eaiz ! He even hoped to 
 14*
 
 162 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 put up a little for that coming college-life. To 
 his great disappointment, when he asked leave 
 of Mr. Ashton, he said, very decidedly, No ; 
 that he needed change, play, recreation, and 
 that he should feel as if he were doing a 
 wrong thing to allow him to shut himself up 
 in the close air of a factory, when he needed 
 the sun and the air as much as the flowers 
 did. Willie tried to bear the disappointment 
 like a man ; but, after all, he was only a boy 
 of eleven, and he had to wipe the tears away 
 many times, in order to see clearly the path 
 as he went slowly home. To his surprise he 
 found James there waiting for him. James' 
 face looked so happy, that poor Willie, as he 
 looked at it, could not help wondering why 
 God had made him so well and happy and 
 rich, while He had not only taken away the 
 vigor of his boyhood, but had given him pov- 
 erty and much sorrow to contend with. But 
 these feelings had hardly put themselves into 
 words in Willie's m:^d before he became con-
 
 THE BEAN-FIELD. 163 
 
 scions how wrong they were ; and they were 
 hardly conceived before they were followed by 
 an earnest prayer for forgiveness, and for help 
 to be saved from being an envious child. 
 
 James was too full of his own happiness to 
 notice the changes in Willie's face, which in- 
 dicated his changes of feeling, so he said, 
 abruptly : 
 
 "I meant to have got here earlier, Willie, to 
 save you going over to our house, for I knew 
 the very first idea that would come into your 
 head would be that of going to work ; and 
 father said you mustn't have any more, in doors, 
 when the birds were calling you so loud to 
 come out. But he says," and here James' face 
 lit up with such a happy smile, " that he will 
 give you and me the rent of that acre of bean- 
 lot, over on the side of Chipman's Hill, and 
 will pay us two dollars a bushel for every 
 bushel of beans we raise upon it. What do 
 you think of that, man ; is not it a lot better 
 than making paper bed-quilts ? Why, we shall
 
 164 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 be farmers, sons of the soil, men full grown, 
 ready to assume the responsibilities of life, and 
 to act our part, bear our burdens manfully, 
 and all the rest that Mr. Lane tells us about. 
 [ made father promise me he wouldn't tell 
 you a word about it, if he should see you first ; 
 and I know, by your long face, that he hag 
 kept his word. Come, sir ; Jonas has gone 
 round to the field, and there is no time to lose. 
 He is to give us our first lesson this morning. 
 It is all ploughed, and ready." 
 
 Now which boy looked the happiest, Willie, 
 or James ? As we can not see with our bodily 
 eyes, how shall we decide ? Perhaps, after all, 
 there was most of quiet joy in Mrs. Sumner's 
 eye ; for she more fully realized how much it 
 would be to her pale, drooping child. Per- 
 haps it might lighten the shadow which fell 
 over him that night, when she stood looking 
 at him in the soft moonlight. Willie was 
 even now tired. The walk to Mr. Ash ton's, and 
 the disappointment, had been all that he could
 
 THE BEAN-FIELD. 165 
 
 bear. But he was too impatient to rest, though 
 James, with his brotherly care of the frail child, 
 cheated him into many long rests on the sunny 
 side of some old log, as they went to their new 
 work, much preferring that Jonas, never too 
 pleasant, should scold him heartily for being 
 so slow than that he should hear that quick, 
 short breathing of Willie's., which he heard his 
 mother so often regret. When they reached 
 the field, Jonas was so struck by Willie's worn, 
 tired face that he forgot the reproof, which 
 he had hardly been able to reserve until James 
 came, and only said, 
 
 " Well, now, sartin, that boy looks like a 
 turnip just dug ; he's as white as pop-corn. 
 Your father don't expect to get many beans 
 out of him, I hope?" 
 
 " We will see," said James, laughing cheer- 
 fully. " Willie left some of his red cheeks be- 
 tween the leaves of his old Latin Dictionary ; 
 but we will dig them up, you see if we don't." 
 
 " Yes, yes I dare say," said Jonas, more
 
 166 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 gently ; " nothing so good for little folks as air 
 and work. I don't think much of your book- 
 laming. My boys are as brown as horse-chest- 
 nuts, and stout as young oxen. They are a 
 great team, Ned and Joe, I tell you." 
 
 " I know that," said James ; " but so are 
 Willie and I. I'll bet you a fourpence that 
 we will raise more beans on the same quantity 
 of land than your boys, after all 1 " 
 
 " Whew !" said Jonas, looking disparagingly 
 at their delicate hands, and whistling contempt- 
 uously. " Brag is a good dog, but Hold-fast 
 is better." 
 
 " Well, Jonas, for a punishment, you shall 
 measure our beans, when we have gathered 
 them," said James, laughing. 
 
 " I'll agree to it, and won't charge your 
 father nothing for the time it takes," said 
 Jonas, with a sly wink. And to work the 
 three went. 
 
 Willie was tired. His hoe was heavy, he 
 could hardly move it ; he was both slow and
 
 THE BEAN-FIELD. 167 
 
 awkward. After all it was not as good as the 
 paper patchwork ; for that he could do, and 
 this he could not. 
 
 "I am more stupid than Jerry," he said, 
 apologetically, to James. 
 
 " Then you are a very hopeful case," said 
 James ; " for I heard father telling mother, this 
 very morning, that Pat says Jerry does half 
 as much work as a man, and that he quite de- 
 pends upon him. So much for stupid Jerry ! I 
 could hardly believe it." 
 
 Willie was glad when the evening came, and 
 still more glad when Jonas said he could do 
 no more until to-morrow. Everybody was 
 thoughtful for Willie. It is a beautiful way 
 that God has of taking care of those who 
 quietly and uncomplainingly trust Him to put 
 it into the hearts of so many to do little kind 
 things ; to think for, and be tender of those who 
 really need it. Who ever before thought of 
 rough Jonas being careful of any body ! and 
 yet now he really planned to do something else,
 
 168 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 to ease Willie gradually into hard wort. And 
 all that bright, warm spring afternoon he 
 quieted down his discontent at the fact that the 
 ground was not opening to mellow, by the 
 thought that that weak child was at play some- 
 where ; and so Willie was. He had taken Lotty 
 and Warren, and they had gone for the violets ; 
 and by some freemasonry, known only to young 
 hearts, James and Lina had come to the same 
 spot for the same purpose. And so* beautiful 
 and plenty were the flowers, that the girls had 
 woven small wreaths, and put them upon their 
 heads, Lotty making the woods ring with her 
 discordant but happy laugh, and Lina with 
 her lovely face so bright brighter and sweeter 
 than were those sweet blue flowers. Warren's 
 chubby hands peeped out from under their load 
 of the greenest leaves, almost like lilies ; so, at 
 least, Lina said, as she took his pretty oiferings, 
 very much with the air of a flower queen. These 
 were precious days to Lotty, for a new life 
 opened with them to her. When Willie was
 
 THE BEAN-FIELD. 169 
 
 at school, she -was confined closely at home. 
 Her mother hardly dared permit her to go to 
 the old tree, that grew so near the house ; for 
 the unfenced yard offered her no protection, 
 and she was very tender of this helpless one. 
 But when Willie was at home, he was never 
 tired of walking with her of taking her to 
 the prettiest places ; and, though Lotty could 
 not hear the birds sing, they were to her what 
 the white clouds in the blue sky are to us, full 
 of the silent beauty of motion , between heaven 
 and earth, but much nearer that pure home 
 than here ! No one can tell the silent beauty 
 which God has spread all over this world, but 
 those to whom only this is revealed. And cer- 
 tainly, as this group of children sat round upon 
 the springing grass, Lotty's face told of as 
 much deep enjoyment as the others gave ex- 
 presssion to in words. 
 
 The long shadows from those brawny pine 
 trees fell over their play-ground before the 
 party broke up. Willie had a shade more of
 
 170 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 life upon his young face, as he went home. 
 His mother saw it, and returned thanks. 
 
 The next morning the boys went early to their 
 task. James was fond of every species of practi- 
 cal gardening. ' He no longer," he said, "felt 
 like an old horse that was sawing wood in a 
 machine, as he had in the mill. There was some- 
 thing right manly in his work. He could hear 
 and see ; he believed he loved every clod of 
 that brown earth ; and when the beans fairly 
 came, only think of seeing something grow 
 that you had planted yourself." 
 
 Mr. Ashton had wisely regulated the work 
 hours. They were from eight until ten in the 
 morning, and from three to five in the after- 
 noon. 
 
 If he had not, the boys would have come 
 home to dinner, and hurried back, every day. 
 But Mr. Ashton was positive ; and, as he said 
 he had taken Willie into his employ, he had 
 some errand for him to run, some ride 
 for him to take, or the little girls wanted
 
 THE BEAN-FIELD. 171 
 
 to go again and again after those never- 
 fading violets. 
 
 Vacation was passing all too quickly. What 
 would become of the beans, when they must 
 go to school? They made many plans for 
 getting up early, for working through the long, 
 soft summer twilight. We shall see how well 
 they kept them. 
 
 The last day of vacation they were allowed, 
 as a special favor, a few hours more of work. 
 The heads of the green leaves of those last 
 planted were just peeping up above the ground, 
 and now was the time, Jonas said, to make sure 
 of the weeds. " For every one you destroy 
 now, you kill a hundred by and by," he said ; 
 " so work away like troopers." Willie could 
 work " like a trooper." James was not slow 
 in finding it out, and his respect and affection 
 for the boy grew in proportion. 
 
 " Father says," said James, while Willie and 
 he were weeding side by side, " that this weed- 
 ing may be an excellent moral lesson to us, if
 
 172 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 we will take it. He says, we want to pull up 
 these things while they are young and tender, 
 before they have spread, or taken deep root. 
 And so with our little faults. If we pull them 
 all up, root and branch, now, we shall have no 
 more trouble with them ; but if we let them 
 grow, they will choke us all up, and we shall 
 not produce a good deed, any more than we 
 can raise good beans if they are covered up 
 with dark weeds." 
 
 " I was thinking so myself," answered Wil- 
 lie, " as I sat here before you came ; and I 
 wondered if God would not help me pull up 
 all my faults, as we pulled up these weeds. 
 Now, you see, James, these weeds, could not 
 pull themselves up, neither could the beans 
 push them off ; we come and do it. So one of 
 my greatest faults is want of power to break my- 
 self of a faul t, or bad habit, which I take to be 
 one and the same thing ; and, unless God comes 
 and helps me, why they will grow, and grow, 
 and thero is the end of my being a minister."
 
 THE BEAN-FIELD. 173 
 
 "You arc always talking about being a 
 minister, Willie. What is your fancy that 
 way ? I can't find out." 
 
 " Why, simply to do good, James." 
 
 " Do good ! I never think of any such 
 thing ; I mean, any more than some little kind 
 act, which I can't help doing. But E never plan 
 about being a minister ; I want to be something 
 great? 
 
 " And I something good, ;) said Willie, 
 
 " You don't mean to say you had rather be 
 a good man than a great one ? Gome, now, 
 Willie, own up, honestly ! " 
 
 "Well, honestly, then," said Willie, "I do 
 not see how being good can keep me from 
 being great ; but if I must be of necessity only 
 one, I had rather be a first*rate minister, and 
 win souls, as Mr. Ross says, to Christ, than to 
 be a king, and wear a crown." 
 
 " I should not like to be a king, I think," 
 said James, half laughing ; " but the president 
 of the United States of America does'nt sound 
 15*
 
 174 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 so unpleasantly to me ! I wonder, after all, 
 Willie, what you and I shall make." 
 
 " This reminds me," said Willie, " of a talk 
 I once had with Jerry. One day, when we 
 were working all alone at the mill, I asked 
 him what he meant to make, when he was a 
 man ; and, after waiting a long time, he said, 
 " ' Well, now, I am a thinking I'll make a sled.' " 
 I tried to explain to him that it was what he 
 was to be, and at last came to the conclusion 
 that, mayhap, if he was very smart, Patrick 
 would let him tend a loom." 
 
 Both the boys laughed. James thought 
 weeding beans a great deal better fun, and so 
 did. Willie. Indeed, if a profession had not 
 seemed to them a necessity for boys who 
 studied Latin, perhaps the clear, buoyant air, 
 the gay, glad freedom of an out-of-doors life 
 might have won both their hearts to the farm- 
 er's side. As it was, farming was only a means 
 to an end. James wanted his money, in order 
 to feel that he had earned something o'f his
 
 THE BEAN-FIELD. 175 
 
 own ; and Willie we all know what Willie 
 wanted his for. Mr. Ashton came out to-day 
 to make them a call. He had watched the bean- 
 field more as an indication of the boys' charac- 
 ters than for any great desire to have a large 
 crop of beans. He had been at some pains to 
 devise this healthy way of helping Willie, and 
 he offered a price which, even with a fair re- 
 turn for their trouble, would pay them hand- 
 somely. But what gave him most pleasure 
 was the industry and perseverance they had 
 both shown. Being strictly in accordance with 
 his taste, James had never wearied, never re- 
 quired, as he had at the mill, to be forced to go ; 
 he only complained that he was allowed to 
 work so little. Even Jonas confessed that the 
 boys had done right smart, his own lads 
 couldn't have beaten them. And when James 
 asked him if he would still promise to measure 
 their beans for nothing, he laughed, and said 
 he was perfectly willing to leave it to Mr. 
 Ashton ; he was a mighty just man. And so
 
 176 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 closed the last day of this happy, well-spent 
 vacation. When Willie went into school the 
 first morning, Mr. Lane's salutation was, 
 
 " Ah ! Willie, vacation has done you a world 
 of good. Why, you look like a different boy. 
 I shall let you dig away at your books with 
 much more pleasure this term." 
 
 "I am as strong, almost, as James," said 
 Willie, " and have grown half an inch. Mother 
 says she thinks, if I would be a farmer's boy, 
 I might make a healthy man ; but I must be a 
 minister, sir, I am sure I mast."
 
 X. 
 
 Hfu gisappititnunt, 
 
 T1HE next event of much importance to the 
 progress of our story was the long pro- 
 jected visit of Mr. Ashton and Mr. Sumner to 
 the widow, in order to investigate the unset- 
 tled claims upon the laud Mr. Ashton was so 
 anxious to purchase. Mr. Sumner had not 
 been away from home for several years, and 
 the occasion was one of much solicitude and 
 bustle to him and his family. He had, with 
 his wife's careful planning been able to buy 
 the new coat of which he stood so much in 
 need. And as his habits for several months 
 had been perfectly sober, he really began to 
 assume again the appearance and the manner 
 of a gentleman. What was better still, he be- 
 gan to have hope in his heart hope that he 
 should be able finally, with Mr. Ashton's help, 
 to be a gentleman. Not an idle, lazy one, for
 
 178 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 no true gentleman can be that ; but an active, 
 enterprising, useful, valued member of the com- 
 munity in which he lived. So Mrs. Sumner 
 hoped ; but her trust was first in God, and 
 afterward in Mr. Ashton. 
 
 There was a feeling of the old pride in her 
 heart, which she thought shame and sorrow 
 had long since eradicated. She was surprised 
 to find it still there. When all dressed and 
 ready, her husband stood waiting for the car- 
 riage which was to take him away. Even 
 Lotty seemed conscious that there was quite 
 an epoch opening before the family ; for, climb- 
 ing up in her father's lap, she passed her hand 
 approvingly over the shining new coat, and 
 uttered a succession of her wild, happy laughs, 
 Her look of grief and surprise, as she saw her 
 father go away, was the last thing he saw. As 
 he looked back from the wagon to say good-bye 
 once more, it was a great comfort to him 
 poor, fallen man that he was to find that this 
 stricken, abused child loved him still.
 
 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 179 
 
 Sixty miles is not a great distance by cars; 
 but Mr. Ashton wished to make it as much of 
 an excursion as possible to his companion. 
 So they drove leisurely on, and did not reach 
 their stopping-place until quite late on the 
 following night. The next morning their first 
 business was to hunt up the old lady, whom 
 they found living alone in a small house on the 
 outskirts of the town. She evidently was not 
 much used to company, or very desirous of it ; 
 for the reception she gave them had in it such 
 a mixture of bashfulness and coldness, that she 
 might easily have rid herself of less determined 
 guests. But, taking their seats entirely unin- 
 vited, Mr. Ashton entered at once upon the 
 object of their visit. 
 
 " So, so," said the good lady, looking at them 
 most attentively after she had heard their story ; 
 " you think you'll come here and get all you 
 can out of me, and then go away and get the 
 land for sartin, do you? I tell you what, I 
 haven't lived so long and suffered all this for
 
 180 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 nothing ; and I will inform you, to start with, 
 that I haven't a word to say about the matter, 
 and that if you sit there twenty years, you 
 may just do it. You will be none the wiser 
 for it." 
 
 It was in vain that Mr. Ashton informed 
 her who he was, and that his intention was to 
 see her claims made good, not broken. It was 
 wasting words ; for, after finishing her first 
 speech, she quietly had taken her knitting and 
 seated herself, and not one syllable could they 
 draw from her. She even refused to tell them 
 the name of the minister of the parish, and they 
 were obliged to take their leave and hunt him 
 up elsewhere. 
 
 Mr. Ashton was exceedingly amused by the 
 whole occurrence, but Mr. Sumner was suspi- 
 cious that his own personal appearance had 
 much to do with the old lady's belief in their 
 imposition. It conveyed to him a silent re- 
 proof, which, after all, showed an increasing 
 tenderness of conscience. The minister was
 
 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 181 
 
 out of town, and would be absent some weeks. 
 What could they do ? Whatever inquiries 
 they made respecting the character of the 
 widow only made their case seem more hope- 
 less to them ; for every one said " she was 
 very odd, and noted for keeping her own 
 counsel." And some of the more knowing 
 ones advised the gentlemen to return to their 
 homes without any delay, for the good woman 
 had never been known to change her mind 
 since she had lived in town. Mr. Ashton, 
 however, persevered a few days longer, going 
 sometimes alone, and sometimes sending Mr, 
 Sumner, but always with the same result. The 
 old lady took her knitting-work, and, fastening 
 her eyes upon it, never by look or word indi- 
 cated her knowledge of any other living being 
 beside herself being in the room. 
 
 " If I could only ascertain who her father 
 
 und who her brothers were ! " said Mr. Sumner, 
 
 in despair, one morning, after spending two 
 
 hours in useless cross-questioning. "This is 
 
 1G
 
 182 WIN AND WEAK. 
 
 the rarest law-case of which I ever heard. 
 Our trouble is generally to make our clients 
 keep still, and here is one who can not by any 
 inducement be made to open her mouth. The 
 woman is either very wise or a fool." 
 
 At last, during one morning's visit, Mr. 
 Ashton, as a means of passing the time, took 
 up an old Bible, which lay upon a small light 
 stand by the fireplace. When the widow saw 
 him do this she gave a significant groan, as if 
 she was delighted at having driven him to such 
 profitable employment. 
 
 Turning the leaves slowly over, he came at 
 last to that family record which is so often 
 inserted between the leaves of the Old and 
 New Testament. There, sure enough, written 
 in a distinct, old-fashioned hand, were the 
 names of the whole family, from the grand- 
 mother to one only grandchild. Her mar- 
 riage, too, was recorded. 
 
 " How is this ? " said Mr. Ashton, starting. 
 " Here is your wife's name, and your own :
 
 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 183 
 
 ' Mary Loring, married to William Sumner, 
 August 8th, 1830.' ' Mary Loring, daughter of 
 Warren and Charlotte Loring, born September 
 4th, 1810. Warren Loring' " 
 
 " Stop, stop," said Mr. Sumner, breathlessly. 
 " My wife's father was then one of this lady's 
 brothers. Let us look at it carefully. Here, 
 begin with the grandmother." 
 
 It is almost impossible to tell what effect 
 this disclosure had upon the widow. Turning 
 pale and red by turns, she slowly rose from 
 her chair, and, laying her hand upon Mr. Sum- 
 ner's shoulder, said, 
 
 " You are then William Sumner. God bless 
 or curse you, according to the use you shall 
 this day make of the knowledge you have ac 
 quired." 
 
 " We have been put in possession of this in 
 a most singular manner," said Mr, Ashton. 
 " My good lady, God has certainly overruled 
 your extreme carefulness in a decided way. 
 It seerns to me it would now be in accordance
 
 184 WIN AND WEAK. 
 
 with the plainness of His purpose, if yon should 
 give to your nephew something more of the 
 affectionate reception due from an aunt." 
 
 " If he is good and worthy of it, God bless 
 him," said the aunt, a little more gently. "But 
 what I used to hear of him was none of the 
 best ; and, mayhap, God intends to try me 
 still more, by sending him with his family to be 
 a burden to me all my few remaining days." 
 
 Mr. Sunnier had been, years ago, a man of 
 spirit ; but there is nothing that takes this out 
 of a person like guilt. Now he stood abashed 
 before this new-found relative. Not a word 
 had he to offer in reply to her openly ex- 
 pressed reproof. There had been times, and 
 those only a few months ago, when his family 
 had been needy enough to come upon her for 
 support ; and how could he repel the sugges- 
 tion now ? 
 
 Mr. Ashton read what was passing in his 
 mind, from his downcast face. He really 
 pitied him, and hastened to say,
 
 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 185 
 
 " That he could promise that, while he lived, 
 Mr. Sunnier would not willingly become a. 
 burden to her ; and, if she once knew Mrs. 
 Sumner and the children, he thought she 
 would soon forget how lonely she had been 
 in the world." 
 
 " Mayhap," she said, submissively ; " but 
 God had a way of seeing different from what 
 we mortal folks did, and if He meant her to 
 live out her days poor and alone, it was His 
 will, and she was content." 
 
 Years of living alone seemed to have had a 
 benumbing effect upon Mrs. Harbour's mind, 
 as well as upon her heart. Her husband had 
 died many long, long years ago. She was 
 childless, defrauded, relationless, so far as she 
 knew ; and thus she had eked out her subsist- 
 ence from day to day, by the aid of her knit- 
 ting-needles and the strictest economy. 
 
 Mrs. Sumner had lost sight of her. Indeed, 
 she had been hardly in a situation to look up 
 any friends for years, and so they seemed to 
 16*
 
 186 WIN AND V7EAR. 
 
 have naturally forgotten each other's existence. 
 And now, after conversing with her for some 
 hours, Mr. Sumner came to the conclusion that 
 whatever he really found out that was to the 
 point, must come from the remembrance of his 
 own wife. 'Mr. Ash ton and himself, therefore, 
 took their leave, promising to keep Mrs. Bar- 
 bour informed of whatever should tend to the 
 final settlement of her affairs. 
 
 " I do not see, Mr. Sumner," said Mr. Ashton, 
 as they drove leisurely home, " but what, in 
 the end, this affair becomes yours, your wife 
 being heir to whatever Mrs. Barbour leaves ; 
 so you must make the best bargain you can 
 out of me." 
 
 " That is rather a new thing to ask a law- 
 yer to do," said Mr. Sumner, smiling. " He is 
 generally expected to make the best for you." 
 
 " In this particular instance, I am willing to 
 waive that claim in favor of my young friend 
 Willie," answered Mr. Ashton. " Only, I must 
 confess, while I am ready for all that is fair
 
 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 187 
 
 and honest, I should like to be sure, if I am 
 to pay a very large price, that it will come to 
 your family in the end, and not, by a freak of 
 a very freakish old lady, go to some twenty- 
 ninth cousin." 
 
 " I think it will be the part of wisdom not 
 to expect too much, then there will be no 
 disappointment. At any rate, I will see to it 
 that my professional services are rendered to 
 you with as much probity as if the twenty- 
 ninth cousin were already in possession. The 
 first thing now to do is to find that will. My 
 wife may have it among some of her father's 
 old papers. She is so orderly, we shall soon 
 know whether it is in her keeping or not." 
 
 That was a very pleasant ride home. Mr. 
 Ashton, always hopeful, felt quite sure that the 
 land he so much desired would soon be hon- 
 estly his, and that by becoming its purchaser, 
 he should benefit the family in whom he was 
 so much interested. And Mr. Suniner, in spite 
 of his protestation to the contrary, and his
 
 188 WIN AND WEAE. 
 
 sincere desire to do his duty, simply and only, 
 had some very cheering thoughts of his family 
 never, never let him err however much he 
 might suffering for the common necessaries of 
 life again. 
 
 It had been a happy morning when he left 
 home. It was a happy meeting when, with so 
 much of the old smile upon his face, he once 
 more took his little deaf and dumb child up 
 in his arms and gently covered her tiny hand 
 with his, as she still smoothed the new coat, with 
 the half consciousness that it was, even more 
 than when she saw it last, the harbinger of 
 good. 
 
 Mrs. Sumner was very much surprised by the 
 intelligence which her husband communicated 
 as soon as they were alone together. She had 
 but seldom seen her aunt, Mrs. Barbour, and 
 what few recollections she had of her were 
 not much in her favor. Her brother, Mrs. 
 Snmncr ? s father, married a lady against whom 
 Mrs. Barbour conceived a violent prejudice, so
 
 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 189 
 
 that the families had, during his wife's lifetime, 
 but little intercourse ; and, when lei fc alone with 
 his only child, Mr. Loring had shown no desire 
 to have her come either under the influence 
 or authority of her aunt. Mrs. Barbour had 
 been informed by letter of her brother's death, 
 soon after its occurrence, and since then no 
 communication had taken place between the 
 families. Mrs. Sumner had never heard her 
 father speak of any will belonging to his 
 father, or, indeed, of any property which had 
 been left to any of the children ; but yet, it 
 was possible such an instrument did still exist, 
 and was safely laid away among her father's 
 papers in the old hair-trunk. To-morrow they 
 would look over its contents carefully. It 
 was a point which could soon be settled. 
 
 Willie was hardly awake, the next morning, 
 when his father came in to commence the 
 search. He was very curious to know what 
 it might all mean, but he was not accustomed 
 to ask questions very freely of his father. So
 
 190 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 he waited until he found his mother alone. Nor 
 was his wonder at all abated, when she inform- 
 ed him that his father was looking for his 
 great-grandfather's will, and that, as the rest 
 was private business, he must make no further 
 inquiries. Mr. and Mrs. Sumner had decided, 
 the previous night, that it would be best to 
 keep Willie in ignorance of the whole affair, 
 in order not to excite in him too sanguine 
 hopes with regard to the future. Mr. Sum- 
 ner was not privy to Willie's plans of going 
 to college, and becoming a minister. He had 
 not yet shown sufficient interest in his children 
 to deserve the confidence. 
 
 Willie now, with the sensitiveness peculiar 
 to delicate children, kept away from his room 
 while the search was proceeding ; but he felt 
 that he knew so much more of the contents of 
 the trunk than any one else, that he might be 
 useful if they would allow him to be. 
 
 It must be confessed that at school Willie's 
 thoughts often wandered from his books to
 
 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 191 
 
 the old trunk. It seemed to him to contain 
 so many treasures peculiarly his own, that 
 he almost felt as if some sacred personal rights 
 were being invaded, and was not the less trou- 
 bled when, on making a hasty visit to his room 
 on his returning from school, he found his father 
 still there, and the papers scattered in sad con- 
 fusion all over the floor. 
 
 " Here is work for you, to-night, Willie," 
 said his father. " When you come from school, 
 you may gather these all up and put them back, 
 just as they were. You have been here so often, 
 your mother says, you know all about it." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Willie, delighted at the pros- 
 pect of restoring things again to their original 
 condition. " May I begin now ? " 
 
 " No, not until night. So far I have had my 
 labor for my pains. But here is a little hope 
 left yet," lifting two unopened packages ; " what 
 I want may be here." 
 
 But no, the last paper was unfolded and no 
 will. There were bills from Mr. Loring's youth
 
 192 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 to his doat'i, all neatly filed and arranged, 
 but nothing else. Mr. Sumner recommended 
 to his wife that they should all be put 'into the 
 fire, when he had concluded his search ; but 
 they were precious in her sight, and were 
 remanded back to their hiding-place. Willie 
 was busy until a late hour, working with a 
 right good- will, but, notwithstanding, was both 
 tired and sleepy when the whole was done, 
 and he might go to bed. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Sumner were both of them 
 more disappointed than they had any reason 
 to suppose they should be, when the prospect 
 of finding the will became hopeless. To Mr. 
 Sumner it made an end of an important and 
 interesting law case ; and to Mrs. Sumner it 
 dashed the bright hopes which, in spite of her 
 better judgment, she was beginning to enter- 
 tain, that the future of her family might, at no 
 very distant day, be better provided for than 
 their past had been. Nor was Mr. Ashton 
 without his share in the disappointment.
 
 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 193 
 
 Even old Mrs, Barbour heard of the failure 
 to discover the will with more than usual 
 expressions of regret. " It wasn't so much 
 matter for herself," she said, " for the land had 
 always been a thorn in her flesh a matter of 
 discipline, but, if she once could get hold of 
 it, for sure and certain, it might do some one 
 else good after she was gone." Willie, too, boy 
 he was, felt that something had gone wrong, 
 though, thanks to the discretion of his parents, 
 it threw no shadow across that shining path 
 which led him up, up to that, happy minister 
 life. 
 
 17
 
 XI. 
 
 fire Iiu*ptUfc iisita. 
 
 MR. ASHTON had felt much concern as to 
 the effect which the failure in this first 
 law case for years might have upon Mr. Surnner, 
 so had his wife, and both exerted themselves 
 to their utmost to make it appear a matter of 
 very slight importance. Mr. Ashton found 
 occupation for him as treasurer of the Mills, 
 a post of trust and responsibility which he 
 knew Mr. Sumner very well capable of filling 
 if he would remain sober. Mrs. Sumner spent 
 the money which he earned in the most advan- 
 tageous manner. Already there was a greater 
 air of comfort about the house. She had pur- 
 chased a new rocking-chair, which always 
 stood inviting Mr. Sumner to rest when ho 
 came home tired from his day's work. A new 
 cover hid the painted table, and a neat ward 
 U94)
 
 THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 195 
 
 robe, into which the " turn-up bed " was snugly 
 Btowed away, gave quite a parlor-like look to 
 the small room. The children, too, were better 
 dressed, and far better fed. Even Willie began 
 to lose the pointed look so indicative, in a child, 
 of worn sensibility, and to appear and act like 
 other boys. In truth, everything had so im- 
 proved that life seemed a different thing to 
 Mr. Sumner. He began to feel as if he was 
 earning a right to be a man once more ; and, 
 as he became more steady in business, he found 
 to his surprise that he had really more time 
 for home cares, and that he could easily do 
 many things by which Willie's frail strength 
 nad been before exhausted. The time which 
 Willie thus gained was spent to the best pur- 
 pose, for, instead of chopping wood, he could 
 run to the bean-field, and there James and 
 himself always found plenty to do. How 
 beautifully yes, really beautifully those 
 young green leaves looked to them, as they first 
 unfolded 1 How they watched the formation of
 
 196 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 every pod 1 And now, as summer was wearing 
 on, how they would have carried pails of 
 water from the falls to water every root, for 
 fear of that long August drought ! So passed 
 another term of study the happiest Willie had 
 ever known during the whole of his short, 
 troubled life. As the evenings began to 
 lengthen, and he could sit down quietly with 
 his light to his books, he seemed to himself to 
 be making almost double progress in his 
 studies ; though it is very doubtful whether he 
 was really advancing as fast as he did when, 
 within the long soft twilight, he could spend 
 those very hours at work in his bean-field. 
 
 The fall vacation would be just the season 
 to gather those treasures in. Willie, in some 
 of his waking dreams, spent the money^he should 
 thus earn, one day, in buying a handsome 
 new dress for his mother, in which she should 
 look, oh! so neat and pretty! Then he remem- 
 bered poor Lotty, who never had a warm cloak, 
 or bright hood, as other little girls had, in
 
 THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 197 
 
 her whole life. She might go to church if she 
 had them ; and how pleased and proud he 
 should be to lead her in ! How her soft eye 
 would brighten with astonishment at every 
 new thing she saw and did ! and how God would 
 love to see this poor stricken lamb gathered in 
 with the rest of His flock ! Warren, too, was 
 almost large enough to go to school, only he 
 would need new stout boots if he did. What a 
 nice thing it would be to buy them, and draw 
 them on to the child's feet himself ! What a man 
 it would make of him at once ! and how very 
 smart the child himself would feel ! As for the 
 baby, she was still little, and all her wants her 
 mother supplied, even before the child wag 
 conscious of them herself. And then, crowding 
 in and pushing out everything else, came that 
 expensive college life, and the mine of wealth 
 which it would require before he could earn 
 anything for himself. Every cent must be 
 saved for these bills, or he, in the end, should 
 never be able to assist the family in the sub- 
 17*
 
 198 WIN AND WEAK. 
 
 stantial way which was among the pleasant 
 things of the future. Never was a boy more 
 happy in possibilities than Willie was now. 
 Everybody who saw the bean-field pronounced 
 it doing finely, and so of course it must be. 
 There was to be only a private examination at 
 the close of this term. In this James and 
 Willie acquitted themselves quite as well as in 
 the public ones ; and Mr. Lane dismissed them 
 with the warmest commendations. He told 
 them that their good behavior had given tone 
 and character to the whole school ; that teach- 
 ing was much easier where the boys helped, 
 and they had helped him in right good earnest ; 
 that he was proud of, and well pleased with 
 them. This was a pleasant way to begin 
 vacation. Mr. and Mrs. Ashton felt that 
 James's success was owing, in a great measure, 
 to the influence which Willie had over him. 
 He was a steady, faithful boy, and had, beside, 
 those noble and generous traits which are tho 
 tio of brotherhood between boys.
 
 THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 199 
 
 Mrs. Ashton often spoke of him to James as 
 a Christian child. James could not exactly 
 see why Willie was any more of a Christian 
 than he was himself. He always tried to 
 obey, to speak the truth, never forget to pray 
 at night ; and on Sunday, refrained from play- 
 ing, or reading such books as he read in week 
 days. Yet, notwithstanding all this, James 
 felt that there was a real difference between 
 them. And he many times puzzled over it 
 without being able to decide what it was. 
 
 The motto, " Win and Wear," seemed to be 
 a great favorite with Willie. James wondered 
 if that contained a secret meaning he had been 
 unable to discover. And one day, after his 
 mother had been unusually earnest in her 
 praise of Willie, he determined, the first time 
 he and Willie were alone together, he would 
 have a good long talk with him, and find out just 
 what it did all mean. This opportunity he 
 was sure would occur while they were harvest- 
 ing their beans.
 
 200 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 Jonas, at last, after much entreaty from the 
 boys, appointed a day on which to commence 
 this important business. It was one of those 
 soft September days, when every thing looks 
 golden. The rich autumn sun gilded the trees, 
 the shrubs, the fading grass, and even the very 
 stone walls, as they passed along. They were 
 both in high spirits ; and Lotty and Lina were, 
 by special permission, to make part of the 
 party, help them pick the pods, and perhaps 
 even be allowed to turn out their shining 
 white contents into that capacious measure 
 which Jonas had brought with them. 
 
 What a happy company they. were! One 
 would almost have thought their laughs would 
 have rung down into their parents' homes 
 perhaps they did. At any rate, the golden sun- 
 shine was not all on the fields. It brightened 
 up Mrs. Sumner's small neat house, and glanced 
 over the gold-sprigged paper in Mrs. Ashton'a 
 parlor, as if it could add its cheerfulness even 
 to that happy home.
 
 THE UNEXPECTED VISITOE. 201 
 
 Lotty's tiny hands wore soon the busiest of 
 them all. She was rapidly becoming useful in 
 many little ways. Deprived of hearing and 
 speech, her eyes did double duty. She seemed 
 to learn much faster than other children what 
 she could see done, and to have a natural 
 power of doing it at once and handily. Lina 
 loved play too well to work much ; but, if she 
 did not work, she was the life of the whole. 
 She said ten words for every pod she picked, 
 and only laughed louder and longer than any 
 of the others, when she found, at the end of the 
 first hour, that her small basket was not half 
 filled. And then she began to grow tired, and 
 insisted that it was luncheon time ; and she must 
 go and spread the table under the old oak 
 tree, by the stile. And, with the language of 
 signs, into which she threw so much of her 
 own superabounding life that they seemed to 
 possess more power than dull words, she 
 tempted Lotty away with her. So the children, 
 assuming as demurely as Lina could the re-
 
 202 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 sponsibilities of woman life, spread the table 
 under the dancing shadows of the broad green 
 leaves, and put the brown acorns around each 
 piece of bread and butter, " to make a white 
 plate with a brown border." Then calling the 
 boys, they forgot the beans in the nice luncheon 
 which Mrs. Ashton's kindness had provided. 
 
 They could hardly believe it was dinner- 
 time, when Jonas told them he had heard his 
 wife's horn for his dinner. And as Jonas pos- 
 itively refused to measure the beans more than 
 once a day, and that at night, they very reluc- 
 tantly went to their own homes. As "Willie 
 and Lotty came in sight of theirs, they were 
 astonished by seeing an old stage-coach, which 
 rumbled by once a week, drive up to their door 
 and stop. Lotty hung back ; she wanted to 
 be sure what had happened, before slie ventured 
 any further. But not so Willie ; he could not 
 wait to reach home to know, but, running up a 
 hill near by, could see distinctly whatever 
 should occur.
 
 " I am sorry thit I cannot immediately recall your name. 
 Your face is certiinly familiar to me." 
 
 Win and Wear. 
 
 p. 203.
 
 THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 203 
 
 The driver was a long time at the door of 
 the stage, evidently helping somebody or 
 something, out and at length Willie saw a lit- 
 tle old woman, dressed in black, with both 
 hands so full of bundles that she had to be 
 assisted out by her elbows. She tottered along 
 a few steps, then stopped to direct the taking 
 down of a queer-looking box. It seemed all 
 the colors of the rainbow to Willie, as he 
 looked at it from the distance. Having finally 
 adjusted every thing to her satisfaction, he saw 
 her drop a little courtesy, and then turn to the 
 door. She did not knock, Willie felt sure, but 
 opening the door, went directly in. Seizing 
 Lotty's hand, Willie ran home as quickly as he 
 could, and was just in time to hear the follow- 
 ing dialogue. 
 
 " I am sorry," said his mother, apologeti- 
 cally, " that I cannot immediately recall your 
 name. Your face is certainly familiar to 
 me." 
 
 " That is more than I can say of your face,
 
 204 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 though I know your name well," replied the 
 old lady ; " so, by your leave, I will take off 
 my bonnet, and make myself a little at 
 home." 
 
 Mrs. Sumner immediately assisted her to 
 take off her bonnet and shawl, and, seating 
 her in Mr. Sumner's rocking-chair, began to 
 call after Willie to bring more wood, in order 
 to brighten the blaze into a cheerful welcome 
 for this unexpected, unknown guest. 
 
 When Willie made his appearance, he at- 
 tracted the visitor's eyes at once from the 
 careful survey they were making of the room 
 and its appurtenances. 
 
 " So this is Willie," she said cheerfully to 
 him, as he came forward, holding out his hand. 
 " William Sumner, I suppose ; I never could 
 see the use of nick-names. If the boy was 
 christened William, why not say so, and be 
 done with it." 
 
 " Because Willie is shorter and prettier, wo 
 think," suggested Mrs. Sumner. "But I seo
 
 THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 205 
 
 you do know our names ; may I request now 
 the pleasure of being told yours ? " 
 
 "Mighty polite you are, for sartin," an- 
 swered the old lady ; " perhaps it won't give 
 you so much pleasure, when you really find it 
 out. Where is your husband ? " 
 
 " Up at the mill, in Mr. Ashton's office." 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! so he does pretend to do some- 
 thing sometimes? I heard he was a " 
 
 Mrs. Sumner stopped her instantly. " Who- 
 ever you are," she said politely, but firmly, 
 " you will remember that he is the father of 
 these children, and my husband." 
 
 " A little quick-tempered ! Well, she a'n't 
 none the worse for that, that I know of. The 
 Lorings always had a temper of their own." 
 
 " May I ask again who you are ? " demand- 
 ed Mrs. Sumner, more resolutely. 
 
 " Yes, nothing to hinder you that I know 
 
 on," perversely answered the visitor ; " whether 
 
 I shall tell you, is quite another thing. But 
 
 there is one thing I will tell you ; I am hungry, 
 
 18
 
 206 WIN AND WEAK. 
 
 and kind of faint, and should like a cup of 
 strong tea, real hot. I never drink any thing 
 lukewarm." 
 
 Mrs. Sumner stood for a moment irresolute ; 
 but Willie whispered, " Mother, I think it is 
 old Mrs. Barbour, that old aunt of yours that 
 father went to see." 
 
 " My little boy says," said Mrs. Sumner, a 
 smile of welcome immediately lighting up her 
 whole face, " that you are my aunt, Mrs. Bar- 
 bour. If you are, you must let me kiss you, 
 and tell you how heartily glad I am to see you 
 here." 
 
 The old lady got up and held out her hand 
 with a look of real happiness gleaming over 
 her sallow and wrinkled face. "I am," she 
 said, " Aunt Barbour old, cross, queer Aunt 
 Barbour. Don't be very glad to see me, be- 
 cause I didn't expect you to be, and I am very 
 hard to get along with. So only treat me 
 kindly, and let me stay a little while ; for I 
 have had a great longing to come, since your
 
 THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 207 
 
 husband was at our house, and sec with my 
 own eyes what that great man of yours calls 
 so perfect, as he does you and yourn. And 
 now I will take my tea, and then see your 
 children, niece Mary, if it won't vex you.'' 
 
 While Willie and his mother went immedi- 
 ately at work to provide the desired tea, Mrs. 
 Barbour leaned her head back in her chair, 
 and closed her eyes. She seemed very tired, 
 and no doubt was ; but she was not too tired 
 to have many busy thoughts revolving in her 
 mind, the result of which we shall learn by 
 and by. 
 
 And Mrs. Sumner too had busy thoughts, 
 but not of the pleasantest kind. She was, E3 
 she had said, glad to see her relative ; but, in 
 the small house which they occupied, could not 
 imagine where she should put her to sleep, or 
 what she should do with her during those days 
 and nights when the want of means to keep 
 an extra fire compelled all the family to use 
 one room. Willie was thinking over the same
 
 208 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 thing, and, as soon as mother and son were 
 alone together, they began to plan. Willie 
 asked if his great-aunt could not occupy his 
 room. 
 
 " And where will you go ? " asked his 
 mother. 
 
 " Oh ! any where. I can go into the closet 
 under the stairs ; or I have it mother, splen- 
 didly I can go into that little bedroom father 
 began to part off from the kitchen." 
 
 It may be well to inform our readers that 
 the house consisted only of two lower rooms, 
 and, as no partition had ever been put between 
 the rooms of the second story, one long cham- 
 ber. Between the kitchen and the sitting- 
 room there had been originally two large 
 closets. These, in one of his half-drunken fits, 
 Mr. Sumner had intended to convert into a 
 bedroom. But, having ruined the closets, he 
 had done no more to it ; nor would he even 
 allow his wife to remove the rubbish which 
 Btill remained there, he growing very angry,
 
 THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 209 
 
 and seeming to consider it a reproof of his in- 
 dolence, whenever the subject was mentioned* 
 So Mrs. Sumner, daily inconvenienced by the 
 want of her closet, and gaining nothing in bed' 
 room, had ordered the wardrobe made for her 
 bed, and allowed the crib occupied by Lotty 
 and the baby to stand in open view. 
 
 Now Willie's proposal involved speaking 
 about that closet again to her husband, and 
 she really dreaded it Still she went cheerfully 
 about preparing the tea, and pretty soon placed 
 a neat-looking table before the old lady, and 
 proceeded to waken her. 
 
 Mrs. Barbour allowed herself to be awakened 
 as if she had really been asleep ; then made a 
 hearty meal, and noticed how very white and 
 nice the cloth was upon her table, and how hep 
 china shone. 
 
 " Now," said she, having finished, " I want 
 
 to see the children." Lotty had been sitting 
 
 quietly in her little chair, never so much as 
 
 once taking her eyes off from the old lady 
 
 18*
 
 210 Wlff AND WEAR. 
 
 since she came in. And the old lady had 
 looked at her, had seen the shadow which was 
 cast over her, but could not understand from 
 whence it fell. Willie went again through a 
 formal introduction. Lotty, with a few ex- 
 planatory words from her mother, laid her soft 
 hand in her old aunt's, and looked up into those 
 dimming eyes with such a mute appeal for 
 love, that if that aged heart had been, in those 
 lonely years of living alone, turned to stone, 
 it would have been softened, at least enough 
 to take the dumb child in. 
 
 " Poor thing ! poor thing ! " said the old 
 lady, more gently than she had spoken before. 
 " She will be saved lots of trouble in this world, 
 after all, for the Bible says the tongue is an 
 unruly member." 
 
 Master Warren was not in the best of hu- 
 mors. He had been astride the rainbow- 
 colored box, from which eminence he had been 
 immediately taken off by his aunt ; and this 
 was all the notice she had taken of him. The
 
 THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 211 
 
 baby, too, had crowed, and cried, and laughed, 
 and stared, but all to no purpose. Mrs. Bar- 
 bour had wonderful eyes, capable of seeing, and 
 not seeing, at the same time. This the chil- 
 dren learned pretty thoroughly afterwards. 
 She now bestowed upon each one of them some 
 little mark of attention lifting the baby into 
 her lap, and giving her her old spectacle case 
 to play with, while Warren was allowed to kick 
 his heels against her chair, during his mother's 
 absence from the room, without having any 
 notice taken of it. 
 
 Mrs. Sumner stole up stairs to make every 
 thing ready there, before her husband's return. 
 She was quite uncertain how he might receive 
 a guest who struck him so far from favorably, 
 and wished to be present in the room all the 
 time during the first evening. Nor was she 
 wrong in her anticipations. Mr. Sumner's 
 temper had been soured by the life which he 
 had led ; and, though conscious of deserving 
 it, he did net often forgive the person who ac-
 
 212 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 cused him of his misdeeds ; and when his first 
 surprise was over at seeing who, so quietly 
 and so much at home, was occupying his rock- 
 ing-chair, his reception was none of the most 
 cordial. This Mrs. Barbour was not slow to 
 see, and therefore said, bluntly, ' You don't 
 want me here, William Sumner. I dare say 
 you are right, for I am old, and cross, and very 
 hard to get along with ; but be patient a little 
 for your wife's sake." 
 
 There was no resisting this appeal. Mr. 
 Sumner was not bad-hearted, but guilty ; and 
 as he looked at his wife, there was a quiet sup- 
 plication in her eye, which was fast regaining 
 over him its former power. He answered 
 cheerfully, and what was better, heartily, " That 
 his house was small, and his accommodations 
 poor ; but such as they were, for his wife's 
 sake, she was welcome to. She had but few 
 friends in this world ; too few to receive those 
 who came, unkindly." 
 
 How Mrs. Sumner's face thanked him ! he
 
 THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 213 
 
 had hardly seen it brighten so for years. And 
 thus a ray of sunshine came with the old 
 widow into the poor cottage. Surely no one 
 expected it, least of all Mrs. Barbour herself. 
 
 Mr. Sumner lighted an extra candle that 
 evening. It was a slight attention, but hia 
 wife both saw and felt it ; and she gathered 
 courage from it to call him out of the room, 
 and consult him with regard to their arrange- 
 ments for the night. " Willie proposes sleeping 
 in the closet," she said, hesitatingly, " if you 
 have no objections." 
 
 " How can he sleep there on a pile of mor- 
 tar ? " answered Mr. Sumner, testily enough. 
 " But," correcting himself, " let me take a light ; 
 I will see what can be done.'' 
 
 Mrs. Sumner heard him, in a few moments, 
 making noise enough to insure something 
 being done. And she saw, too, that her aunt's 
 ears were wide open, and that she was wonder- 
 ing at such a noise at that hour of the night. 
 However not a word was said in explanation,
 
 214 WIN AND WEAK. 
 
 and when it had fairly ceased, Mrs. Barbour 
 expressed her desire to go to her bed. 
 
 Mrs. Sumner had been dreading the exposure 
 of their poverty, which the unfinished looks 
 of the room up stairs must make ; but she 
 had long since learned to take these things 
 submissively, so she lighted the candle, and, 
 without a word of apology, prepared to show 
 her guest to her room. As they reached the 
 foot of the stairs, however, the old lady stopped 
 short. 
 
 "Niece Mary," she said, "I have never 
 mounted a stair to sleep these fifty years, and 
 I can't do it to-night, if you Jhave a corner in 
 which you can put me down stairs. Let me 
 sleep in your kitchen, or any where. I won't 
 make you any trouble. But I am old, and cross, 
 and hard to live with, you know, so you had 
 better humor me when you can." 
 
 Now what was to be done ? Mrs. Sumner 
 cast a troubled look at Willie, who was follow- 
 ing with his aunt's bundle in his arms, and
 
 THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 215 
 
 his answer was so prompt, that it quite sur- 
 prised her. " Go up stairs yourself, mother, with 
 the children, and let Aunt Barbour have your 
 room ; it will be nice and warm for her, you 
 know, and so convenient." 
 
 " That is a very good plan," said his mother. 
 "I wonder it had not occurred to me before. We 
 can all be in that great room up stairs together, 
 and no need of the closet." Now it was Wil- 
 lie's turn to look troubled, for if they were all 
 in together, what would become of those early 
 and late hours which had always ben so pe- 
 culiarly his own ? He was really ashamed of 
 it afterwards, when he remembered how an- 
 noyed he had felt. There was nothing to do 
 now but to return to the room, and make the 
 proposed changes in the quietest way they 
 could. And so, to the visitor's no small amaze- 
 ment for she had been for some time prying 
 around with her eyes for down-stair bedrooms 
 the wardrobe doors were opened, and a nice 
 comfortable bed soon stood ready for her.
 
 216 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 She was anxious to keep Lottie and the baby 
 with her, but Lottie refused by so many signifi- 
 cant shakes of the head, that her mother knew 
 it would be in vain to attempt to urge her. 
 So, making her arrangements as rapidly aa 
 possible for the night, the whole family were 
 soon quietly at rest, all sleeping but Mrs. 
 Sumner, who was busy revolving over and 
 over again in her own mind what this strange 
 visit might portend, and how, with their limited 
 means, they could support even for a short time 
 another member of their family. There were 
 so many little economies which she could prac- 
 tise when alone, but should be entirely pre- 
 vented from doing now j so many minutes in 
 which she has tried to compress the work of 
 an hour, which of necessity now must be given 
 to the entertainment of her guest. What could 
 she do what but trust? This was no new 
 lesson to her. She had learned it well ; and 
 so she went to sleep, with pleasant thoughts of 
 her unexpected guest.
 
 xn. 
 
 Iriah. 
 
 rilHE next morning, when Mrs. Sumner wen* 
 -* into the kitchen, she found her aunt up, 
 dressed, her room in perfect order, a fire burn- 
 ing in her stove, and one also partly kindled 
 in the cooking-stove. 
 
 " I thought," she said, apologetically, as Mrs. 
 Sumner entered, " you would not mind my 
 stirring about a little, as I am so used to it at 
 home. If I had only known your way better, 
 I could have had your meal all ready by the 
 time you were up. Now, if you can spare 
 some time and patience just to show me how, 
 another time you can be taking up the children 
 while I am getting breakfast." 
 
 How kind and cordial she seemod 1 Mrs. 
 Sumner recurred to her troubled thoughts of 
 last night, and wondered if God had already 
 19 (2")
 
 218 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 answered her prayer for help. She had been 
 so long accustomed to doing everything for 
 herself, that to have assistance from one who 
 really understood how to do, was a new life to 
 her. Aunt Barbour had not lived alone so 
 many years, to be helpless now. She soon con- 
 trived to do what was to be done, and even 
 drew out the rocking-chair for Mrs. Sumner 
 while she was dressing the baby. 
 
 Mrs. Sumner did not offer the slightest ob- 
 jection to anything she chose to do. She saw 
 immediately that the best and happiest manner 
 of living with Aunt Barbour was, to let her 
 have her own way ; and certainly, when that 
 was as considerate a one as this of the morn- 
 ing, it was no very difficult task. Willie found, 
 too, that he could help his aunt quite as jead- 
 ily as his mother, only he must do the very 
 thing, and nothing else, that he was bidden to 
 do. When Mr. Sumner came down, he felt, 
 without knowing why, that the domestic 
 wheels were moving verj easily. He was glad
 
 TEIALS. 219 
 
 that, for his wife's sake, he had been kind the 
 previous night. 
 
 " Mary," he said to his wife, just before 
 going to the mill, <; I think we can afford to 
 have that bedroom finished now, and we really 
 need it for Mrs. Barbour. It is too much for 
 you to go up stairs to sleep with all the chil- 
 dren. I will send masons around to-day, if 
 you think best." 
 
 Mrs. Sumner made no objections. It seemed 
 like really taking a step up in the world, which 
 was none the less pleasant because hitherto 
 all had been down. 
 
 Aunt Barbour trotted about the house until 
 she made herself acquainted with every part 
 of it. " Niece Mary," she said, as she came 
 down from up stairs, " that great garret of a 
 room is no place for your baby these cold 
 nights. I see now that I have taken your sleep- 
 ing room. To-night I will try some other quar- 
 ters." Thus appealed to, Mrs. Sumner told her 
 the plan about the closet j and now, having
 
 220 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 explained the noise of last night> the next 
 thing Mrs. Sumner heard was the broom, 
 sweeping away the dust and liine from the 
 room, with the energy of twenty instead of 
 seventy. 
 
 At length the door was opened, and Mrs. 
 Barbour's wrinkled face made its appearance 
 in the opening. " I tell you what, Niece Mary," 
 she said, " this is the nicest little room that 
 ever was built. I never thought when I seemed 
 to be driven away by such a longing after 
 you and your children from my old home, that 
 I should light on such a pretty nest as this. 
 And then, there is Willie, too. The Lord be 
 praised, the Lord be praised ! " 
 
 Mrs. Sumner could not restrain a smile. " I 
 am sure, Aunt Barbour, it is only because you 
 are so good and kind that makes every thing 
 seem so pleasant ; you are just one of those 
 persons that make ' the desert rejoice and blos- 
 som as the rose.' " 
 
 " Cross, and old, and hard to live with," said
 
 TRIALS. 221 
 
 Mrs. Barbour, cheerily, as she again closed the 
 door and resumed her work. 
 
 Mr. Sumner was this time as good as his 
 word ; and when the children came home from 
 the bean^field at noon, they found two men 
 busily at work fitting up the new bedroom, 
 Willie had told James and Lina all about their 
 guest when he had been at work with them ; 
 and Lotty, bending over, and trying to make 
 wrinkles in her rosy cheeks, had tried to tell 
 them, in her language, just how the old aunt 
 looked. James said he would call after dinner 
 for Willie, that he might have a peep at her ; 
 and Lina, though it made the walk consider* 
 ably longer, insisted upon coming too. Willie 
 felt slightly troubled, for though these children 
 would not willingly do a disrespectful thing, 
 there was something so very funny in Aunt 
 Barbour's looks, he was afraid they would not 
 be able to help it. He whispered his fears to 
 his mother, but she assured him she could not 
 see, herself, anything to laugh at, and did not 
 19*
 
 222 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 think they would. Willie determined to be 
 all ready so as to make the call as short as 
 possible, and accordingly James found him at 
 the door. " Don't laugh, James," he said, 
 softly, " for she is as good, mother says, as she 
 is funny ; try to be polite and sober, won't 
 you?" 
 
 "Sober as a judge," said James, drawing 
 down his face. " I defy you to make me smile."- 
 Lina caught hold of Willie's hand ; she was 
 half afraid, the preparation was so formidable. 
 Aunt Barbour was much too busy to notice the 
 little new-comers ; indeed, to children gen- 
 erally she had rather an antipathy. So the call 
 was got nicely through, and the children's 
 tongues were very busy discussing the old 
 aunt, most of the afternoon. 
 
 There was now a whole week of bright sun- 
 shiny days. This first golden one was but a 
 type of six others, all so warm, so cheerful, 
 so laden with rich harvesting, that Willie felt 
 every night, as he lay down on his nice bed in
 
 TRIALS. 223 
 
 the long attic-room, that God was smiling spe- 
 cially on his endeavors to be a minister ; that 
 every one of thes<3 beautiful days was sent to 
 aid him in his self-appointed task ; and that, 
 after all, it might not be so self-appointed, but, 
 as He did Samuel, God might have called 
 another child to minister before Him. And 
 so he would often fall asleep, with that dutiful 
 answer of the young prophet upon his lips, 
 " Here am I, for thou didst call me." 
 
 On Saturday night the harvest was over. The 
 beans were all gathered, and Mr. Ashton had 
 them removed to his kitchen in order to have 
 them measured with as much " pomp and cir- 
 cumstance" as was possible. There was to be 
 a meeting of some of the children of the neigh- 
 borhood, a nice supper, and a variety of pleas- 
 ant things. Mr. and Mrs. Sumner were both 
 urged to go. Mr. Sumner pleaded business 
 for an excuse. It takes a long, long time to 
 repair a fault, therefore we had better be care- 
 ful how we commit one. Now it had been
 
 224 WIN AND WEAR, 
 
 several months since Mr. Sumner had drank 
 one drop of liquor ; but he still felt guilty, and 
 did not like to go into any society. Mrs, Sum- 
 ner iiad not been away from home for years, 
 but to-day Willie's eyes asked so lovingly, and 
 Lotty folded up her hands so often in her form 
 of supplication, even Aunt Barbour so in- 
 sisted that she would have the baby, and take 
 all the care of her whether the mother went 
 or stayed, that at last Mrs. Sumner consented 
 to go ; and a very happy party they made as 
 they went, Warren with them, to Mr. Ashton's, 
 
 James and Willie were too impatient, to have 
 the measuring long delayed. So Jonas, with 
 his peck-measure in hand, at last began to 
 " fill in," the boys thought, very slowly. But he 
 said, " Haste only made waste," and would not 
 be hurried. 
 
 " One, two, three, four, five bushels, two 
 pecks, two quarts, and one pint, every bean 
 counted at last," said Jonas, rather pompously. 
 Notwithstanding his predictions, he was really
 
 TRIALS. 225 
 
 proud of the boys' success, perhaps because he 
 thought it was in part owing to his own pa- 
 Li once and skill. 
 
 " Eleven dollars and fifty cents, then," said 
 Mr. Ashton, " is due to these boys ; and here it 
 is." So saying, he counted out the money 
 upon the table, divided it, took from his pocket 
 two nice new portmonnaies, exactly alike, and 
 put them in their hands. 
 
 We all know how they received them. How 
 the color came into James's cheeks, and how 
 pleasure danced in his bright black eye ; how 
 very handsome and good he looked, and how 
 dearly his mother loved her boy as she looked 
 at him then. And Willie could only grow pale, 
 and must keep his eyes fast upon the floor, for 
 they are overflowing with happy, thankful 
 tears. And his mother, standing very near him, 
 has almost the feeling that she must put out 
 her hand to sustain him, he looks so pale and 
 drooping, and she remembers the shadow that 
 fell over her that night when he lay sleeping
 
 226 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 in the moonlight. " God keep my boy" she 
 does not repeat it so that mortal ear can hear, 
 but God is listening. 
 
 Five dollars and seventy -five cents! How 
 rich Willie felt ! What should he do with it, iu 
 order to keep it safely against that day ? 
 
 Now commenced the plays in earnest. James 
 was the life and spirit of the whole ; and as for 
 Lina, she was perfectly wild with joy. There 
 was " blind man's buff," and "catcher," and " hot 
 cockles," and "Jack, Jack, don't you die in my 
 hand/' and "I spy," and others, too numerous 
 to mention. Lotty soon learned them ; and even 
 little Warren contrived to take his part, though 
 he was so continually in the way that he was 
 more of a football than anything else. Every- 
 body pitched over him, and so all his fingers 
 and toes were cramped and aching to a de- 
 gree that required all the manliness he had to 
 restrain his tears, and still he would play on. 
 
 By and by, when the children, and parents 
 ioo, were beginning to be weary, there waa
 
 TRIALS. 227 
 
 such a nice supper ready for them ! and of all 
 the hungry party none needed it more than 
 Willie, for his happiness had made him tired 
 long ago, when the games first began, and ho 
 had made every exertion that no one should 
 discover how frail he really was. No one but 
 his mother did ; it would have been impossible 
 to have deceived her. And when this very 
 pleasantest of all pleasant afternoons was 
 over, and his mother returned early home, 
 pleading the baby for her excuse, he whispered 
 to her the wish to go too, for " he was a little 
 weary." 
 
 Aunt Barbour must be told everything that 
 had happened,when they returned. Mrs. Sumner 
 sent Willie up stairs to rest, and patiently re- 
 peated what she thought would interest her 
 aunt ; nor was she a little surprised, when at 
 the end of her narration, the old lady said, 
 
 " Willie Sumner is going to die. There ia 
 none of your angels made to live here upon 
 this arth of ou~s. Heaven is the place fo*
 
 228 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 them ; so, you see, you needn't go to lotting oil 
 him too much. 'Taint God's way." 
 
 There was an echo of Mrs. Sumner's own 
 foreboding ; but what could have given rise to 
 the thought in Mrs. Barbour's mind she could 
 not surmise. She answered, in a meek and 
 sorrowful tone : "It must all be as God wills, 
 Aunt Barbour. He is a precious child, but 
 he belongs to his Father in heaven, as well 
 as to his mother." 
 
 :< Oh ! now, don't be agoing to be cast down 
 by an old woman's croaking," said Mrs. Bar- 
 bour, changing her own tone at once to that 
 of cheerfulness. " I dare say, before I have 
 been here much longer, I shall find out he has 
 enough of old Adam in him to save him ; and, 
 now I think of it, as he has been frolicking the 
 whole afternoon, he might as well have brought 
 in some kindlings for to-morrow morning. I 
 have no doubt it will be forgotten, so I will 
 go and see to it myself ;" and, glad of an excuse 
 to hurry away from the sadness she had oc-
 
 TRIALS. 229 
 
 casioned, and really wishing to save the child 
 the trouble, she went out and collected what 
 Willie declared " was the finest basket of shav- 
 ings he ever saw." 
 
 That night, long after Willie was fast asleep, 
 his mother rose ffom her bed and went to his 
 side. He was sleeping as soundly and as 
 sweetly as need be. She touched him, and the 
 warmth of life and health came back, his silent 
 answer to her anxieties. He looked so peaceful 
 and happy, that she felt it was wrong in her 
 to distrust God for a moment ; that it was no 
 way to keep her treasure, so to idolize it that she 
 put it before Him. And in her dreams during 
 the rest of the night, she seemed to be walking 
 with him in his manhood, leaning upon his arm, 
 looking up into his loving face for that sup- 
 port which had been denied to her in her hus- 
 band ; but he had on wings, long and white, 
 though they were folded gracefully behind him, 
 and she could only see them glance forth, 
 now and then, like flakes of the purest snow.
 
 230 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 During the time of the harvesting the bed 
 room had been progressing, and the day after 
 the celebration at Mr. Ashton's the carpenter 
 pronounced it finished. This was an epoch in 
 the life of the Sunmer family, for it introduces 1 
 their first important change for the better. 
 So they all felt it, and it would have been im- 
 possible to count the many visits which were 
 made to it during this first day. And now 
 arose that important question, how were 
 they to get it furnished? Mrs. Sumner had 
 revolved this in her mind many times, but 
 always without approaching any nearer a 
 decision. The expense of making the room 
 was all they could now afford. They must live 
 on yet a little longer as they were at present, 
 and be patient. Mr. Sumner wished to run in 
 debt for what was necessary ; but on this point 
 his wife was decided. Never in their days of 
 extremest poverty had she been willing to do 
 this; she certainly should not now. Willie 
 stood by, listening to the discussion, all tho
 
 TRIALS. 231 
 
 time revolving in his mind a plan of his own. 
 The money which he had just received from his 
 beans was the sum needed. Six dollars, his 
 mother, said would make the room comfortable. 
 He had five dollars and seventy-five cents for 
 his share of the farm profits, and then sixty- 
 two cents which he had earned at the mill ; 
 but but How much there is sometimes in 
 a little word ! Now this but contained a great 
 trial to Willie, and as he was not perfect, but 
 like all other children made up of good and 
 bad, he took his cap and went away into the 
 woods, that he might have a chance to think 
 the matter over quietly and thoroughly alone. 
 It was a cloudy day. Great dark clouds hung 
 over the sky like a pall, and an angry wind 
 moaned low and threateningly through the 
 pine woods as he approached them. These 
 were the same woods where he had once 
 sought for Lotty. They had never been pleas- 
 ant to him since, for they were so associated 
 with the fears and anxieties of that sad morn-
 
 232 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 ing. Perhaps it was because his heart was so 
 heavy that he turned to them now. He soon 
 found himself, panting and out of breath, follow- 
 ing up the same cart-path he had taken then ; 
 and he went on, on, until he had to stop from 
 very weariness. Then he sat down upon an 
 old partly-decayed log, and began carefully 
 turning up with his feet every stone or little 
 stick which lay partly embedded in the long 
 brown slippery pine leaves. If my young 
 readers have noticed at all how they think, 
 when they have resolved to do so, they will 
 find it is very much in the same way that they 
 study ; that is, fix their mind upon a subject 
 one moment, and the next their thoughts will 
 be wandering, like the fool's eyes, to the ends 
 of the earth. So it was with Willie now. 
 When the suggestion first came to him, he had 
 thought he could decide so much better out in 
 the woods, alone, and still. Now he was 
 there, and under every stone or chip he found 
 something to amuse or distract him.
 
 TRIALS. 233 
 
 Innumerable insects, which 1 ad been born and 
 would have died there but for the wandering 
 steps and troubled mood of the boy, crawled 
 up from the fibrous earth, and stretched them- 
 selves out, with their long scrawny limbs, and 
 looked up at the child as wondering as himself. 
 And there he sat, counting their varieties, and 
 saying over and over again, as he came suddenly 
 back to the object of his visit there, " But my six 
 dollars. What shall I do ? what shall I do ? " 
 How quickly James Ashton would have de- 
 cided. This very moment, if he could only 
 have known how much trouble his young friend 
 was in, how soon he would have come to him, 
 and how cheerfully he would have solved his 
 doubts by giving him his five dollars and 
 seventy-five cents ! But, after all, their circum- 
 stances were so different, it would be unfair to 
 draw this comparison between the boys. 
 James had never known a want, and had never 
 had a proper wish ungratified. His future was 
 as bright as kind, good parents, wealth, and
 
 234 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 health could make it. "Willie had never known 
 anything but want. his wishes were only his 
 greatest necessities ; and his future, oh ! it 
 was this future over which he was brooding 
 now. That college course, and his minister 
 life ! it seemed to him, as he became more 
 familiar with the moving world around him, 
 to assume just this shape, the whole of it to lie 
 in the disposal made of that sum, which was 
 the beginning. " If I do," said Willie's kind 
 heart, " keep this money and hoard it up for 
 myself, my mother must live for a long time 
 just as inconveniently as she does now. She is 
 not strong ; ah ! well, would she hesitate one 
 moment to give all she had if it would only be 
 the means of doing me a tenth part of the good 
 which my money can do her ? Then old Aunt 
 Barlow, how kind and good she is ! What a 
 nice little home that would make for her all 
 the rest of her life, poor lonely being that she 
 is ! Father, too, I dare say it would encourage 
 him to feel that he had some one to do some-
 
 TRIALS. 235 
 
 thing, beside himself." Willie took his Cap 
 from off the crumbling log ; lie would hesitate 
 no longer ; he would go right home, and cheer- 
 fully, yes, cheerfully that would be very hard, 
 but he would try would carry the money to 
 his mother for this purpose. " But stop,Willie," 
 said his eager, grasping mind ; " if you do that, 
 what is to become of your education ? You 
 know very well that you must do everything 
 for yourself. Now show some good common 
 sense, and look ahead a little. Suppose you 
 give all your money, this is only the first of 
 many, many wants. Is it your business to 
 supply them, or your father's ? And, even allow- 
 ing it to be yours, do you really do the most 
 good by giving this paltry sum, or by taking 
 it to acquire the power of doing so much more 
 in the future? Think of that pleasant parson- 
 age to which you are going to take your 
 mother one of these days. You will be a very 
 good son if you succeed in making that a home 
 for her. Don't sacrifice thai for this. She
 
 236 WIX AND WEAR. 
 
 will be old, and need it tLen. She is young, 
 and can do very well now. Besides, Aunt 
 Barbour came without any invitation, and has 
 a home of her own to which she can go if she 
 is not comfortable here." Willie took off his 
 cap again, and sat down. Ambition, a praise- 
 worthy ambition, and filial affection were wag- 
 ing a close warfare. Now, or then? We 
 often have to settle this point in our lives, and ? 
 fortunately for us, we are never called upon 
 to do so alone, there is always help near if 
 we seek it. Willie was too busily occupied 
 with his hopes and fears to remember this now. 
 He was trying to find his way out of this trial 
 alone. And there he sat, coming no nearer to 
 a decision, but going over and over the same 
 points, until his head and heart both ached, 
 and the long silent hours had glided past, 
 bearing the record of this child's struggle, with 
 so many other tales of human life. Willie 
 knew that he must have been missed from home, 
 and that the dinner hour was near. " Therp
 
 TRIALS. 237 
 
 is no hurry," lie said to himself at last ; " 1 can 
 come back and decide this as well another 
 time as now. Mother will be anxious ; I had 
 better go home at once." 
 
 "You are a coward, Willie Sumner," said 
 his heart. " You know you are only putting 
 off your decision in order to keep and enjoy 
 your money a little longer. You are a selfish, 
 unworthy boy, not fit to be a minister, for you 
 only "honor your father and mother" when it 
 is pleasant and convenient, not when it is a 
 trial." 
 
 " Now, Willie Sumner," said his head, "you 
 are a considerate, thoughtful boy, and show 
 sense beyond your years. Never do any thing 
 in a hurry ; always look before you leap." 
 
 Win, if you wo^ld wear," whispered his 
 heart, as if one adage immediately suggested 
 another. " Do you suppose, Willie, you can 
 ever wear the crown promised to those who 
 save souls, if at the very beginning of your 
 life you commit a selfish action? Don't l>e
 
 238 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 guided now by worldly prudence. Do you* 
 duty, and leave the rest to God. He will help 
 you win your station only if you are worthy 
 to wear it." 
 
 "Ah! yes," said Willie, falling suddenly 
 upon his knees, " God will help me God 
 will help me." And then the child laid 
 open before his heavenly Father his young 
 heart, freely, fully. And as he came unto 
 Jesus, He forbade him not, but, putting His 
 hands upon him, He surely blessed him, for 
 Willie had no longer a doubt. His trial had 
 ended. He had been in danger, though he 
 knew it not, of making a hard, selfish man. If, 
 with all the plausible excuses which his head 
 made, it had been victorious, where and when 
 could he have drawn the line which would 
 have marked out accurately what was due to 
 the future, and what to the present ? The only 
 right way, after all, is to do our duty to-day, 
 and to leave to-morrow with God. A load 
 had fallen from Willie's heart. His step waa
 
 TRIALS. 239 
 
 light, his eye brighter, and his pale cheek 
 many shades paler for the struggle lie had 
 had. But he was happy now. And when he 
 reached home, finding his mother troubled at 
 his absence, and at his pale, worn face, .he 
 called her away and told her all, how great 
 the trial had been, and how happy he was in 
 the result. 
 
 His mother only kissed him perhaps her 
 heart was so full, she could make no reply ; 
 but she took the bright new portmonnaie from 
 his thin hand, and she saw as she took it how 
 the hand trembled. And now came the mother's 
 trial. She fully appreciated all her son had 
 gone through, though she had hardly dared to 
 confess it to herself. She had feared that his 
 eager desire for an education would make him 
 place an undue value upon money, and she had 
 also perceived, with that close watchfulness 
 which nothing but the tenderest affection ever 
 gives, that, gentle and unassuming as Willie 
 eeemed, and really was, his success in whatever
 
 240 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 he had undertaken had begun to soil the 
 purity of his character with a little taint of 
 self-esteem. He needed so her close obser- 
 vation told her the very trial through which 
 he had now passed. Money hoarded, even for 
 a good object, if it is entirely a selfish one, 
 produces selfishness. But' doing for others 
 not only moderates this, but places the object 
 we serve high in our estimation. 
 
 All this passed quickly through Mrs. Sum- 
 ner's mind, as she silently took the purse. 
 Willie ran away to finish the neglected morn- 
 ing's work, and his mother, wishing she had 
 some one with whom she could consult, went 
 with a heavy heart back to hers. Aunt Bar- 
 bour easily discerned that something made 
 her niece uneasy. She did not ask her directly 
 what it was, but she took the baby away from 
 her, and, decoying Lotty, and Warren also, left 
 her to settle the matter quietly with her own 
 heart. Aunt Barbour was every day a wonder 
 to herself, as well as to everybody else. She
 
 TRIALS. 241 
 
 had lived so long alone that she had no idea 
 she had so much that was kind and good left 
 in her heart. She came at last to the conclu- 
 sion that it \vas not from any merit of her own, 
 but because her " Niece Mary" and the children 
 were such perfect human beings. Even War- 
 ren, great, driving, noisy boy as he was, seldom 
 displeased her. When he did, all the punish- 
 ment he received was a gentle shake, and the 
 words : " You will never make such a man as 
 Willie, try your best ! " 
 
 Whatever may have been Mrs. Barbour's 
 intentions in coming to Belden's Falls, she had 
 never made them known to her relations. She 
 settled down there as quietly as if she had al- 
 ways lived there, and always intended to. And 
 though she frequently informed her niece " that 
 she was old, and cross, and hard to live with," 
 no one would ever have found it out for them- 
 selves. She was always thinking of some way 
 to help, and if it had not been for the incon- 
 venience of the sleeping arrangements, Mrs. 
 21
 
 242 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 Simmer would have found her visit a great 
 source of comfort. With regard to the new 
 room, Mrs. Barbour had been wondering over 
 its furnishing quite as much as the others. She 
 saw and appreciated the effort Mr. Sumner was 
 making to be a new man, and she knew that 
 nothing would throw him back sooner into his 
 old habits than being pressed by unpaid 
 bills. She had much confidence in her niece's 
 discretion, and felt sure that she would not do 
 a thing which they were unable to afford. 
 Yet she wished very much to decide two points, 
 in order to clear away many little daily diffi- 
 culties by which they were surrounded. One 
 of these points was, whether she wished to live 
 for the remainder of her days with Mrs. Sum- 
 ner; the other, whether the Sumners would 
 like to have her. The first question was every 
 day settling itself more and more decidedly. 
 She really loved the children how could it 
 have happened? She had thought them for 
 years the most troublesome of all small trou-
 
 TRIALS. 243 
 
 bles, and yet, every one of these seemed to be 
 hers. She began to have a dread of her soli- 
 tary home how could she now ever return to 
 it ? But then she could not ask to stay. She felt 
 she might be in the way. She knew the new 
 bedroom had been made for her. She should 
 grow older and crosser every year. But tho 
 question must be settled ; she must know what 
 was to become of her. 
 
 "Aunt Barbour is getting homesick," said 
 Mr. Sumner, pleasantly, one day, as the old lady, 
 without being conscious of it, drew a deep 
 sigh. " The next thing we know, she will dis- 
 appear as suddenly as she came." 
 
 " I hope not," said Mrs. Sumner, still more 
 kindly. " I shouldn't know how to live without 
 Aunt Barbour, now." 
 
 " I am only," said Mrs. Barbour, the tears 
 coming into her eyes, " old and cross and '' 
 
 " There, aunty, you have said that ofteii 
 enough," said Willie, interrupting her. " You 
 are just the be.^t aunt that ever lived since the
 
 244 WIN A>?D WEAR. 
 
 world was made, and you are never to go away. 
 If you do, Lotty and I will cry our eyes out 
 won't we, Lotty ? " He then made Lotty un- 
 derstand by signs what he meant, and the 
 child no sooner comprehended him, than she 
 commenced a series of the most dismal cries, 
 catching tight hold of Mrs. Barbours dress, 
 and patting her wrinkled face with her hand. 
 The baby, too, seemed to think that the person 
 whom she considered almost exclusively her 
 property for she was seldom ou^t of the old 
 aunt's lap was in danger, for she began to 
 crawl to her, and pulled away at her dress until 
 she was lifted up. 
 
 " Niece Mary, and you, her husband," com- 
 menced Mrs. Barbour, after several ineffectual 
 attempts to restrain her tears, " I am a plain, 
 old woman ; I never could make a fuss about 
 any thing, and I never can. The long and the 
 short of the matter is, that I should like to 
 live with you while God lets me live. It 
 hasn't been a pleasant thought to me, dying
 
 TRIALS. 245 
 
 all alone out there in that house of mine, and 
 some time, perhaps a long time after I was 
 dead, having a stranger look in, and say, 'Why, 
 the old woman is dead at last ! ' I began to 
 think a good deal about it before I came here ; 
 so, you see, I had to come, just to settle the 
 matter whether I must die all alone, or not. 
 God has been very good to me, and I like you 
 all ; and I should like to die here, if you ha'n't 
 no objections. I know I am old, and cross, 
 and there, Willie, don't say a word. I have 
 done ; and now it is just as your father and 
 mother say. I will go, or stay." 
 
 Mr. Sumncr read his wife's wishes in her 
 face, and promptly replied by every pleasant 
 and kind thing which she could desire. So the 
 matter was settled. The unexpected guest was 
 to become the livelong inmate of the Sumner 
 family. Willie felt rewarded already for his 
 sacrifice. He planned how he would ask Mr. 
 Ashton for the steady grey horse, and drive 
 his mother into the next large town for the 
 21*
 
 246 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 new furniture ; and he soon had as pleasant 
 visions of how pleased Aunt Barbour would 
 look when the room was completed, as he had 
 had before of going to college, and the new 
 scenes and life there awaiting him. This an- 
 nouncement on Mrs. Barbour's part made 
 Mrs. Sumner decide to take Willie's money 
 and spend it, as the entire good of the family 
 seemed most to require. She therefore very 
 willingly consented to Willie's plan for a ride. 
 But when she told Mrs. Barbour of it, she im- 
 mediately requested that the whole might be 
 changed, and Willie be allowed to accompany 
 her to her own home, in order to make such 
 arrangements as should be necessary for closing 
 it. Mr. Sumner, however, felt that it was more 
 suitable for him to go, and as he had now more 
 confidence in himself, he borrowed an easy 
 wagon, and started for the second time toward 
 
 the town of C . So ended for the present 
 
 Willie's plan of furnishing ; for his mother 
 could not leave home while the rest were
 
 TRIALS. 24*3 
 
 away, and he was glad to find that to keep 
 his money was now rather a disappointment 
 than a pleasure. He felt so soon the reward 
 which always accompanies the decision to act 
 unselfishly, with an eye to the comfort and ad- 
 vantage of others rather than our own. His 
 mother, too, was satisfied with the result. She 
 saw that Willie's trials had not been in vain, 
 but were already bringing forth fruit.
 
 XIII. 
 
 Siclttuss 
 
 A FTER three days' absence, Mr. Sumner and 
 * his aunt returned to Belden's Falls ; and 
 bringing with them, or rather rumbling along 
 behind them, came a large wagon, well loaded 
 with household furniture. Every want which 
 Mrs. Barbour had noticed in the house of the 
 Sumners, she had carefully supplied. There 
 was her nice rag carpet, as good as new. Every 
 thing was good, for it had been well kept ; chairs, 
 tables, bedsteads, old-fashioned linen chintz, 
 window hangings, beds and bedding, real 
 homespun linen sheets, bedquilts, every pattern, 
 from the rose to the newly invented rising sun, 
 and all so neatly made ! There were old- 
 fashioned pewter pans, which would have an- 
 swered for looking-glasses, and an array of 
 brass kettles "real gold." Warren said, as 
 
 <248)
 
 SICKNESS AND DEATH. 249 
 
 he passed his fingers admiringly over their 
 shining surface, and was immediately told, 
 li Little boys should never touch." 
 
 Never, since Mrs. Sumner was married, had 
 she received so rich an addition to her house- 
 keeping stores ; and now, too, the question of 
 Willie's money was at rest. Aunt Barbour 
 would not only supply her own wants, but very 
 largely those of the house. 
 
 Her old home had been easily rented, she 
 refusing to sell it, though she had some good 
 offers for it, for fear she might, after all, "have 
 to go there to die alone." She had contrived 
 to keep Mr. Sumner very busy, and therefore 
 out of the way of temptation, and had planned 
 for and with him in an adroit and thoughtful 
 way which quite astonished him. 
 
 The money which she received for the rent 
 of the house was to go to Mr. Sumner for her 
 board. " So, now," she said, as the wagoner 
 was paid, and turned his horse homeward " so 
 now Niece Mary, I am come, bag and baggage,
 
 250 WIN A XI' WEAK. 
 
 to live with you for better or for worse. God 
 bless us both, and help you to remember I am 
 old, and but there is Willie, and I don't 
 think he likes to hear me call myself names." 
 
 And now, soon, matters in the family began 
 to assume a settled appearance. Vacation was 
 over, and Willie resumed his school. The long 
 evenings for study were fast coming on. There 
 was more talking than there used to be before 
 Aunt Barbour came ; so he often went to his 
 own room, and, wrapped up in his knit shawl 
 " as warm as toast," Aunt Barbour said, he 
 used to complete his lesson ; and often have 
 time beside to look over the things in that old 
 hair-trunk. This was a never-failing source 
 of amusement to him. He would spend hours 
 trying to decipher some old sermon, hoping, 
 from every new sentence he puzzled out, to 
 discover something, he hardly knew what, 
 but something which would be of great future 
 use to him. 
 
 One day he brought James with him to look
 
 SICKNESS AND DEATH. 251 
 
 at his pile of treasure. James laughed heartily 
 at the small cramped hand in which they were 
 written, and the time-stained paper. He would 
 as soon have thought of trying to read Hin- 
 doostanee, as of attempting these. " But 
 then, you know," he said, good-naturedly, " you 
 mean to be a minister and write sermons. I 
 have just as much as I want of them on Sun- 
 day. I am going to be a lawyer, and, by and 
 by, President of the United States. When 1 
 am, you shall be my private chaplain." 
 
 Willie laughed too, but said "he should 
 expect to be settled over some large and thriv- 
 ing parish by that time, who would be so much 
 attached to him they could not possibly spare 
 him." 
 
 James borrowed a sermon to take home to 
 show to his father, " who," he said, " dearly 
 loved every thing that was old and musty ; 
 every thing but an old child." 
 
 After he had left, Willie sat down again to 
 the perusal of the sermons, or rather to turn-
 
 252 WIN AND WEAK. 
 
 ing the leaves slowly over, and to wondering 
 whether the time wuld ever in truth and in 
 reality come, in which he could write such 
 things. It seemed like one of those dreams, 
 those pleasant dreams, which he had so often 
 when he was wide awake. Perhaps he began 
 to think more of those dreams than of the 
 manuscript, for he was suddenly wakened from 
 his reverie by opening the leaf upon an old, 
 very yellow stiff piece of something like paper, 
 yet which he felt quite sure was not paper. 
 It was neatly folded, and tied around with a 
 bit of black tape. As he was about slipping 
 the tape, he heard some one call him it was 
 his mother ; so he put every thing neatly away, 
 and hastened down. Lotty had been hanging 
 her head, refusing to eat, and seeming somewhat 
 feverish for several days. Now she was sit- 
 ting in her mother's lap, moaning with pain ; 
 and Mrs. Sumner wished Willie to go at once 
 for the doctor. Sickness, in a severe form, had 
 never entered their home. Mrs. Sumner had
 
 SICKNESS AND DEATH. 253 
 
 often thought it to be such a cause for true grat- 
 itude that, with trial in almost every other 
 form, this had been spared her. But now Lotty's 
 sickness seemed to increase with fearful ra- 
 pidity. Aunt Barbour pronounced it fever, 
 measles, small-pox, or some violent disease ; 
 and Mrs. Sumner, witli her limited experience, 
 was unable to afford the child any relief. 
 " Willie must run quickly for good old Dr. 
 Spofford ; " and Willie did go so quickly, that 
 almost before it seemed possible, they heard 
 the wheels of the doctor's sulky rattling to- 
 wards the house. Willie was sitting in front, 
 on the medicine chest. The doctor never for- 
 got to be kind to children, and had thus 
 brought the exhausted child home. 
 
 There was no doubt what Lotty's sickness 
 was. He immediately pronounced it scarlet 
 fever. But the great wonder was, where the 
 child could have taken it. She had not been 
 away from home, where she could be ex- 
 posed. But still, scarlet fever it was ; and
 
 254 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 it soon proved to be of the most virulent 
 kind. 
 
 " There was no use now," Dr. Spofford said, 
 " to remove the other children. It Had already, 
 before he was called, passed the stage when it 
 was generally considered infectious ; and what- 
 ever could be taken, had already been done." 
 
 There is no disease, in all the wide world, 
 which falls upon the ear of a mother with such 
 terror as this of scarlet fever. Looking 
 around upon her little band of children, she 
 feels instinctively that it is to be broken ; and 
 the one who can least be spared is always the 
 one who is the sickest, and in the most danger 
 of being taken. Poor helpless little Lotty ! .Any 
 one of the other children could have spoken 
 to tell her pains ; but this child has lost even 
 her dumb power of making her sufferings 
 known, and lies there in her mother's arms, 
 tossing her aching limbs, and moaning that 
 heart-rending moan which only the dumb can 
 utter.
 
 SICKNESS AND DEATH. 255 
 
 And no >Y, how invaluable Aunt Barbour was ! 
 How softly she moved about the house ! How 
 thoughtfully she took the children into her 
 own bedroom ; and even Warren's mischievous 
 tricks were borne with and forgiven. 
 
 Mrs. Sumner need never leave Lotty. The 
 child never opened her eyes, but they fell upon 
 her mother ; never moved her parched lips, 
 but her mother's hand held the cooling drink ; 
 never moved her aching head, seeking for a 
 fresh, cool pillow, but she turned it so gently, 
 and with such love and tenderness, that Lotty 
 almost forgot her pain. Willie, too, was there. 
 He could not go to school, for fear of taking 
 the fever among the children ; so he was al- 
 ways near, and ready to help his mother in the 
 thousand little attentions which sickness calls 
 out from the thoughtful heart. No one can 
 know with what agony the mother turned 
 from the sick child to this boy, now so full of 
 future promise ; but in a few days, she knew, 
 to be hovering between life and death. What
 
 256 WIN AND WEAK. 
 
 would Mrs, Sumner have done, if she had not 
 been a Christian ; if she had had to sit there 
 through those long, weary days, when heart 
 and flesh both failed her, with no God whom 
 she could trust with the future of her children, 
 and no Saviour, whose human heart had once 
 yearned over that dead child, and whose divine 
 power restored it to its weeping mother ? For 
 these little ones He had made a home in the 
 kingdom of heaven. She was not afraid, now, 
 to ask Him to take them in His arms, and 
 blessing them, to bear them thither, if so it 
 seemed best in His sight. She had all the 
 comforts of religion ; and what else can give 
 any at such a time? Let Lotty's father an- 
 swer, as, too anxious to go to his business at 
 Mr. Ashton's office, too conscience-stricken to 
 oifer any aid at home, he wandered about the 
 house, now standing for a moment beside the 
 sick child, now trying to amuse the baby, who 
 cried and shrunk from him, and now sitting 
 down, moody and fretful, beside the table, with
 
 SICKNESS AND DEATH. 257 
 
 opened but unread books in his hands. He 
 dared not ask God for the lives of his children. 
 What had he done for them or for God, that, 
 after these long years of sin, he could come to 
 Him now, and ask the greatest of all boons ? 
 " Without God," he was emphatically " with- 
 out hope in the world." 
 
 The neighbors were all very kind. Those 
 heads of families, where young children at 
 home would be iii danger, did not come much 
 to the house ; but when, in the course of a fort- 
 night, Willie and the baby became sick, and 
 Lotty grew every day worse and worse, Mr. 
 Ashton assumed the responsibility of supplying 
 the wants of the family, and sent a strong, ca- 
 pable nurse to assist them. 
 
 Willie occupied the new bedroom, Aunt 
 Barbour having forgotten, in her anxiety, that 
 she had not " slept up stairs for fifty years," and 
 of her own accord exchanged rooms with him. 
 And the baby in its little crib, by Lotty's side, 
 would be tended by no one but its own mother. 
 22*
 
 258 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 Willie was never so sick, and never so thought- 
 ful before. He asked to have the door opened 
 into the room where his mother and the chil- 
 dren were, and contented himself, lying there, 
 following his mother wistfully with his eyes, 
 and trying to smile every time he saw her 
 worn, anxious face turned towards him. 
 
 We will not follow the family through these 
 protracted days of sickness and suffering. 
 There came a night a still, dark night when 
 there fell upon the house the hush which at- 
 tends the coming of the angels. No one heard 
 their approach, no one saw them enter the 
 dwelling, yet all but Willie knew that they 
 were there. Dear little Lotty ! it hardly 
 seems as if that can be you, lying there so pale 
 and wan. You have suffered how much 
 you could never tell, and no one, not even 
 your mother, can ever know. But these angels 
 are waiting, and there is rest for you now. 
 You have never heard before. But listen ! No 
 one else can perceive the soft rustling of those
 
 SICKNESS AND DEATH. 259 
 
 downy wings, but you can, and you smile. The 
 new sense is the first dawning of the new life ! 
 Listen, still, .again ! Those bright messengers 
 are near you now ; they are bending over you ; 
 they raise you gently, so gently, and yes, you 
 hear it all : it is the song of those little ones, 
 who are coming forth to meet, and welcome 
 you to that beautiful heavenly home. Not 
 one sound of earthly music, not even your 
 mother's lullaby, has ever fallen on your ears, 
 but yet you recognize these strains. They 
 have breathed before through the solemn si- 
 lence of your being, which God Himself had 
 made. And the first words you have ever 
 uttered shall be those of that new song, 
 1 Worthy is the Lamb which was slain.' Blessed 
 Saviour ! the angels have borne her to you, and 
 you have taken our stricken child : no longer 
 stricken, but enfolded in your arms, and blessed. 
 "Willie," said his mother, coming softly 
 into his room, as the day began to dawn, and 
 laying her head down upon his pillow, '' should
 
 260 WIN AND JVEAR. 
 
 you not be very happy if you thought that God 
 had given to Lotty the power of hearing and 
 speaking ? " 
 
 Willie turned his heavy eyes one moment 
 on his mother's face. He knew it all, and ho 
 said quietly, " Mother, Lotty is in heaven ! " 
 
 At noon of that day, a loud deep groan 
 broke from the room into which they had 
 borne the dead child. It startled all the weary 
 watchers in the house. Willie heard it, in the 
 half-feverish sleep into which he had fallen, 
 and never could forget it. Mrs. Sumner recog- 
 nized it, and buried her face in her hands. It 
 was wrung from the heart of the father, who, 
 standing beside the cold body of his helpless 
 child, remembered, oh ! so vividly, as nothing 
 but a guilty conscience can make possible, the 
 day when he had struck her ; when he had 
 seen the blood stream down upon her white 
 neck ; when he had driven her out into the 
 cold, pitiless winter air. " Without God, 
 without hope !" miserable man, no words can
 
 SICKNESS- AND DEATH. 261 
 
 tell what he must suffer now, with what 
 heart-rending anguish he stands beside that 
 little grave, and feels that the sods, which are 
 so soon to cover it, shut out all hope of repa- 
 ration. No kindness can reach her now. He 
 may be a changed, a Christian man, and to the 
 remaining children a kind and tender father. 
 But no loving word can this sleeper hear ; 
 nothing to leave with her there but this memory 
 of hardships, suffered from his neglect ; of 
 cruelties borne, of which she could never make 
 complaint. These voices, speaking back to us 
 from what would otherwise be a silent land, 
 utter words which must be heard. And well it 
 were for the living if this remembrance could 
 be oftener present, hushing the unkind word, 
 and changing into a kindness the unkind 
 act. 
 
 Soon after Lotty's death, Willie's sickest 
 days came days when his mother counted the 
 hours, feeling that every one was bearing away 
 her precious boy ; when, as she sat so silent
 
 262 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 and watchful by his bed, and saw him grow 
 thinner and paler, she remembered often her 
 visit that moonlight night to his side, and how 
 even then she felt that the shadows which had 
 fallen was hanging over them. Willie's mind 
 wandered now, as it had so often in health, to 
 his future minister life ; and one of the most 
 frequent half-uttered ejaculations which fell 
 from his lips, were the words, " Here am I, 
 for thou didst call me." 
 
 So certain were all his friends that Willie's 
 days were numbered, that no one thought of 
 speaking a word of encouragement to Ida 
 mother. And the prayer of those who loved 
 him best was not so much for life, as that Jesus 
 would lead him gently and tenderly through 
 the dark valley and shadow ; that he might be 
 spared the lingering hours of intense suffering 
 through which the deaf and dumb child had 
 passed to her long rest. But God had work 
 still for Willie to do, and had otherwise 
 decreed. The violent symptoms abated, the
 
 SICKNESS AND DEATH. 263 
 
 fever gave way, and good Doctor Spoffordt 
 with tears of joy standing in his eyes, whis- 
 pered one morning to Willie's mother, that 
 unless something he could not foresee should 
 occur, there was hope for her boy. The first 
 consciousness of returning life which he himself 
 had, was holding in his hand a beautiful bunch 
 of flowers, and of being told that Lina had 
 sent them to him. From this time he rapidly 
 convalesced ; and in little less than a month 
 from the day Lotty had been laid in her last 
 home, he began to sit by the window and 
 watch the snow-flakes, as they piled themselves 
 one upon another all around the sill, or listen 
 for James to come, on his way to or from 
 school, with Lina ; and sometimes, too, to look 
 for Jerry, who, although pretty constantly at 
 work in the mill, used to improve every op- 
 portunity to come and inquire for Willie, 
 bringing with him always some little gift, 
 something to show he was a grateful boy. 
 One day, it might be a bright bit of calico ,
 
 264 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 another a rude whistle, which he fashioned in 
 his leisure from work hours ; and once, a tiny 
 sled, quite perfect, considering the workman, 
 with a bit of twine for rope, and stripes 
 from the calico to answer for borders of 
 paint. 
 
 Mrs. Ashton had now the opportunity she 
 had so long desired, to do something which 
 would really assist the family. Every day she 
 made some little delicacy, and sent there. She 
 could make new warm clothes for the baby, 
 under the excuse that it was left so delicate 
 by the fever that it needed extra warmth, and 
 its mother was too worn and occupied to at- 
 tend to such little things. Then, Aunt Bar- 
 bour was very old, and this sickness had 
 somewhat shaken her of late, so her cook must 
 work for a short time for both families, and 
 no need to do much in that line at Mr. Sum- 
 ner's until all were well again. 
 
 James was her constant messenger, and the 
 boy as much delighted in his errands of
 
 'And once a tiny sled.' 
 
 Win and Wear. 
 
 p. 264.
 
 SICKNESS AND DEATH. 265 
 
 mercy, as his good mother in sending him 
 upon them. Thus God, in the beautiful econ- 
 omy of our human life, orders it that the afflic- 
 tions He sends shall do extensive good. He 
 sends them to call out the nobler principles 
 of our nature, to make us unselfish, to help 
 as to obey that higher law of " loving our 
 neighbor as ourselves." 
 
 Many people in Belden's Falls said, " Poor 
 Mrs. Sumner ! it seems so strange such a meek, 
 good little woman as she is should be called 
 to bear so many trials ! " If there was a family 
 in town to whom property would do good, 
 it was evidently the Sumner family. But God 
 knew what was best, and Mrs. Sumner felt 
 sure that He acted only from the kindest love 
 and the most unerring wisdom. Perhaps this 
 was just what was needed to complete Mr. Sum- 
 ner's reformation. Lotty was the dearest of his 
 children to him, the one who had been most 
 constantly the tender tie which would, for a 
 brief space, sometimes arrest his downward 
 23
 
 266 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 way. No other death, excepting that of his 
 wife, would have affected him so sensibly. 
 God knew this, and who can say that He did 
 not direct accordingly? From the time of 
 Lotty's death, every one felt how altered a 
 man Mr. Sumner was ; and no one was more 
 fully conscious of it than Lotty's mother, who 
 never forgot, while she prayed that the child's 
 loss might be blessed to her, to return thanks 
 that this loss had also been to her the occasion 
 of an unspeakable gain. 
 
 Willie, as most delicate children do, took a 
 long time, after the danger was past, to recover 
 his usual strength. He seemed, to his mother, 
 to be going into a decline. He was gentle 
 and quiet, showing little interest in things 
 around him, and speaking of Lotty often, as 
 if he expected to meet her again after a very 
 few days. The first real desire which he 
 evinced for occupation, was shown by a request 
 to his mother to bring down from up stairs 
 the favorite pile of sermons. " Queer play-
 
 SICKNESS AND DEATH. 26 7 
 
 things for a sick child," his mother said, but 
 was nevertheless very willing to gratify him. 
 Lying on the top of the first pile was a paper 
 on which he had written his favorite motto, 
 " Win and Wear." This his mother brought 
 down too, and his whole face lighted up with 
 delight, as he saw it. Willie was evidently 
 getting better : the words recalled some of his 
 old ambition, his desire to learn, his wish to 
 be useful, to be great, and good. 
 
 " Mother," he said, after he had looked at it 
 in silence for some time, " Mr. Ross said there 
 was hardly a situation in life to which we 
 could not apply this motto with truth and 
 utility. I should like to know how we could 
 to sickness, to scarlet fever. I have been trying 
 to puzzle it out, but I can't make much of it." 
 
 Mrs. Sumner hesitated a moment ; but the 
 uses of affliction were grown familiar to her, 
 so she said, " Willie, think a little while. What 
 has your sickness done for you for your char- 
 acter, I mean ? "
 
 268 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 " I don't know mother," answered he, after a 
 few moments' reflection ; " I think I am much 
 more fretful than I used to be, more easily 
 vexed, more indolent and selfish; but that is not 
 what you mean, I am sure." 
 
 " No, my boy ; you are not yet strong, and I 
 think can hardly judge for yourself. I will 
 tell you what I hope will be the effect, by and 
 by. That you will be more gentle, more 
 patient, more industrious, more thoughtful for 
 others, and more anxious to dedicate the life 
 which God has spared to His service. You 
 can be and do all these things if you really 
 and earnestly try ; in other words, if you 
 would wear, or possess all the benefits which 
 ought to result from affliction, you must win 
 them, by resolutely setting about attaining 
 them." 
 
 " I understand you, mother ; but somehow 
 this ' Win and Wear' seems rather to apply to 
 to almost every thing but moral traits." 
 
 " You are mistaken, Willie ; the longer you
 
 SICKNESS AND DEATH. 269 
 
 live, and the more closely you observe, thd 
 more certain you will be that it applies to 
 nothing so forcibly as to feelings. You as 
 surely must wear what you win here, whether 
 it is good or bad, as you must be content to 
 take that place in society which you earn by 
 your conduct." 
 
 Willie looked puzzled. His mother thought 
 he would work his way to this truth if left to 
 his own reflections ; she therefore busied herself 
 about something else, and Willie commenced 
 his search through the old sermons. The second 
 one he opened contained the yellow thick paper, 
 tied with a black tape, which had attracted 
 his attention before. He took it out and 
 carefully laid it aside, intending to ask his 
 father about it when he should return from 
 the mill. Warren was attracted by its odd 
 look, and wanted it for a plaything, but got 
 only a sharp rebuke for meddling from Aunt 
 Barbour. But no sooner was his father in the 
 house than Warren laid the whole of his griev- 
 23*
 
 270 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 ance before him, for he 'had already learned 
 from whom now to expect the greatest indul- 
 gence. 
 
 Mr. Sumner took the paper, looked at it 
 carelessly, and slowly untied the tape ; but no 
 sooner had his eye fallen upon the first line, 
 than his expression changed, and his attention 
 was riveted in a moment. 
 
 " It is it ! it is it ! " he said at last, having read 
 and re-read it several times. "Aunt Barbour 
 Mary ! here is the will, your grandfather's will, 
 entire and complete in all its forms, and set- 
 tling now and forever the question of the mill 
 lands ! " 
 
 Aunt Barbour dropped her knitting as if her 
 hands had been suddenly struck with palsy. 
 Not one word could she utter in reply, not a 
 single question suggested itself to her to be 
 asked. Even Mrs. Sumner seemed struck dumb. 
 Adversity she could bear, but prosperity found 
 her all unprepared, and at a single glance she ' 
 Deemed to take in a smiling future.
 
 SICKNESS AND DEATH. 271 
 
 "Where did this come from, Willie?" asked 
 his father, after rather mechanically, than 
 with any purpose, reading the will over again 
 aloud. Willie explained it all, and told how, 
 months ago, on the very day upon which the 
 doctor came to Lotty, he had found, and won- 
 dered over it, intending to ask his father about 
 it ; but the events since had entirely put it out 
 of his mind. 
 
 The will that of Mrs. Barbour's father 
 proved Mrs. Barbour to have been in the 
 right so far as concerned the disputed land. 
 But it also proved what, until now she had 
 entirely forgotten, that her real estate covered 
 a much greater extent of land, and that she had 
 been originally the owner of most of that upon 
 which the thriving village of Belden's Falls 
 now stood. This gave a very different turn 
 to affairs. If she should claim all that right, 
 fully belonged to her, what was to become of 
 those who, havirg purchased the property from 
 other hands, had the right of possession ?
 
 272 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 Mr. Sumner, in true lawyer style, briefly 
 stated these points as they discussed the will. 
 How much was involved ! It added another 
 look of care and anxiety to that already writ- 
 ten upon Mr. Sumner's face, and it sent Aunt 
 Barbour to bed that night, not to close her 
 eyes, but to wonder over that mysterious Prov- 
 idence which, after so many years of lonely 
 struggle and poverty, now, in her old age, 
 when for the first time she had a prospect of 
 being loved and cared for, had sent her a for- 
 tune which promised to be by no means small. 
 Mrs. Sumner's heart was at rest. Willie's 
 darling object was surely now gained. What 
 could, as she was the next heir, prevent him 
 from attaining an education ? And, delicate as 
 he was, how much he needed the help ! Willie 
 knew nothing of all this ; but, in a tired sleep 
 that night, saw countless old sermons and 
 wakened weary from his effort to read them 
 all.
 
 xni. 
 
 WHAT can have happened to Aunt Bai> 
 bour ? From the night of the discovery 
 of the will she has been a changed woman. 
 She used to be very correct ; her step was firm, 
 and her hand steady. She heard as readily as 
 if she was only fifty, instead of seventy ; and 
 where the light fell strongly upon her large 
 Bible, Willie had often seen her reading with- 
 out the aid of her spectacles. But now she 
 begins to stoop, as if there were a weight upon 
 her shoulders which was bearing her down. 
 There is constant motion among the narrow 
 white ribbons 'of her cap. The baby is very 
 fond of her, and thinks she is making them 
 dance to give her pleasure ; so she laughs, and 
 holds up her little fingers in a vain attempt to 
 catch and hold them still. And when Aunt 
 
 (273)
 
 274 WIN AND 'WEAR. 
 
 Barbour spills the milk with which she is en- 
 deavoring to feed her, she shakes her pretty 
 curls at her, and wonders in her young heart 
 why that face, that always had a smile for her 
 before, looks so solemn now ! You must call 
 loud, or Aunt Barbour cannot hear you. The 
 family learn this slowly, for the change has 
 come suddenly, and no one was prepared for 
 it. And then, if the spectacles are mislaid, 
 what a stir is made to find them, and how 
 Warren is accused of having taken and lost 
 them, receiving from his irritated relative 
 many little slaps which nobody else sees. 
 
 Mrs. Sumner at length becomes convinced 
 that something is the matter with her aunt, 
 and mentions it to her husband, who also no- 
 tices it, and says, "The sudden change of 
 fortune was too much for the old lady ; it will 
 probably be the death of her." And then Mrs. 
 Sumner begins to be doubly kind and attentive, 
 trying to take back the care which she had so 
 gladly transferred to her aunt ; but from this
 
 AUNT BARBOUR. 275 
 
 there arises new trouble, for Aunt Barbour 
 grows daily crabbed and cross. She finds a 
 great deal of fault about little things. She 
 will wash the dishes, and build the fires, but 
 she drops the crockery and breaks it with a 
 crash ; and once, but for Willie's timely efforts, 
 might have been burned to death, for the fire 
 caught the corner of her old calico apron, and 
 blazed up in an instant. Willie's hands are 
 botli burned, one quite badly ; but he has saved 
 his aunt from injury, and he hides them in his 
 pocket until the smart is over, trying all the 
 time to bear the pain like a man. Aunt Bar- 
 bour never so much as thanks him for what 
 he has done. To be sure she does not seem to 
 know about the burnt hands ; she only appears 
 angry to find she has lost her apron, and 
 thinks of nothing else. She sits alone, a great 
 deal, in her small bedroom : it is too cold for 
 her, but she resents every attempt to make her 
 comfortable, and she is carefully gathering all 
 her possessions, which she had scattered about
 
 276 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 the house, into her own room. One day Mrs. 
 Sumner hears her hammering, and when she 
 goes to her, finds her busy driving nails over 
 her one window, so that it could not be raised 
 from without. She has a large rope, too, 
 which at night she ties around the door-handle, 
 and then sleeps with the ends in her hands. 
 
 She never has a light when she goes to bed. 
 She has stopped reading her Bible now, before 
 she puts her head upon her pillow, and she 
 sometimes forgets to pray. Poor Aunt Bar- 
 bour! the grasshopper has indeed become a 
 burden. How will it all end ? 
 
 Weeks seem to be doing for her now the 
 work of years. Mrs. Sumner hints to her that 
 she thinks she is very feeble, and wishes to 
 send for Dr. Spofford ; but she dares never pro- 
 pose it again, for she receives in answer a per- 
 fect torrent of abuse, every sentence ending 
 with the threat, if she dies, to leave her money 
 to some one else. 
 
 It is in vain Mrs. Sumner assures her that
 
 AUNT BARBOUB. 277 
 
 rtio advice she gives lias no reference to tho 
 money. She is obstinate, and becomes at last 
 so sensitive, that every kindness assumes to her 
 failing mind the form of an effort to coax from 
 her what she will soon possess. 
 
 In her helpless old age she has become a 
 miser. Mr. Sumner was right. The shock of 
 the good fortune was too much : both mind 
 and body are giving away beneath it. 
 
 The children, with that intuitive perception 
 that something is wrong which belongs to the 
 young, learn soon to be quiet when she comes 
 out of her room ; to avoid her, when they can. 
 Even the baby creeps away, and hides behind 
 her mother's chair. Aunt Barbour is so self- 
 absorbed that she does not notice this at all, 
 and what would she care now if she did ? 
 Willie is old enough to be patient, gentle, 
 thoughtful, and so he tries sometimes to be ; 
 but Willie is not perfect, and he often feels the 
 hot temper rush up into his face when she an- 
 Bwers his mother sharply. One day Aunt 
 24
 
 278 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 Barbour calls him into her room ; she has 
 something to say which she wishes no one else 
 to hear. Willie really trembles as he stands 
 there alone with her, for she takes hold of his 
 shoulder with such a tight grasp ; and her eye 
 is very bright and searching when she fixes it 
 upon him. " Willie Sumner," she says, au- 
 thoritatively, " " you put your cap right on, 
 and go up to Mr. Ashton's. Tell him I want 
 him to send his Jem and wagon right down 
 here after dinner, to give me a lift." 
 
 " Give you a lift?" repeated Willie, not at 
 all assured by the strange request. 
 
 " Yes, give me a lift," said the old woman, 
 shaking him. " You a'n't deaf, are you ? And 
 mind, you go right up without telling your 
 folks, any of them, one word about it." 
 
 " I can't do that," said Willie resolutely, re- 
 covering a little from his fright. " I never go 
 away without asking my mother if I may, and 
 I can't do it now." 
 
 There was evidently a struggle for a moment
 
 AUNT BAttBOUK. 279 
 
 in aunt Barbour's heart, for she loosened her 
 hold, and a soft expression came over her face ; 
 but it was only for an instant. 
 
 " I'd be a gal, and done with it," she said, 
 scornfully. " Go, poor little thing, and tell your 
 mother all about it, but don't come nigh me 
 again," saying which, she opened the door and 
 pushed the boy out. Willie went immediately 
 to his mother, and told her all. Mrs. Sumner 
 thought, considering the circumstances, it wa? 
 best that her aunt should be gratified, and di- 
 rected Willie to do precisely as she had re- 
 quested. 
 
 Mr. Ashton, who had been kept fully informed 
 of the state of events at Mr. Sumner's, readily 
 consented to gratify the old lady. James was 
 kept from school that very afternoon, and sent 
 at one o'clock with an easy wagon, to do Aunt 
 Barbour's bidding, whatever it should be. 
 
 Mrs. Barbour was so delighted to do as she 
 wished, that she seemed to have forgotten that 
 its proposal had been attended by any un-
 
 280 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 pleasant circumstance. She looked more like 
 her former self than she had for weeks, as sho 
 stepped into the carriage and whispered to 
 James where she wished to go. James snap- 
 ped his whip, and the horse trotted off at a 
 full round trot. It was well for Mrs. Barbour 
 that Mr. Ashton had been so thoughtful about 
 the easy carriage. 
 
 Just after dark they returned. Aunt Bar- 
 bour looked very weary ; and Mrs. Simmer 
 noticed that her steps tottered considerably, 
 as she came to the fire, but for fear of offending 
 she did not offer to assist her. Not an inquiry 
 was made as to where she had been, or for 
 what object, and that night the family all lay 
 down to sleep as quietly as if no unusual event 
 was about to take place. The next morning 
 breakfast passed, and Mrs. Barbour did not 
 make her appearance. This was very unusual. 
 But her niece attributed it to the fatigue nat- 
 urally consequent upon a ride, in her aunt'a 
 enfeebled condition ; and it was not until Mr.
 
 AUNT BARBOUR. 281 
 
 Sumnei' had been for some time gone to the 
 mill, that at last she ventured to go to her 
 door and knock gently. Hearing no reply, 
 she knocked still louder; but all was still. 
 Alarmed at the continued quiet, she endeavored 
 to open the door. At first there was a slight 
 resistance, but it gradually yielded ; and as sho 
 lifted the latch, the rope was slowly drawn out, 
 and fell heavily upon the floor. The sound of 
 the fall startled Mrs. Sumner, and, waiting no 
 longer for leave to enter, she stepped quickly 
 in. Mrs. Barbour lay in her bed, one hand 
 over the counterpane, from which the rope had 
 evidently just "fallen ; the other was under the 
 pillow, which, raised a little by the hand, half 
 hid the old lady's face. But Mrs. Sumner's first 
 glance told her that over those sharp, pinched 
 features the hand of death had passed, and that, 
 coining silently, like the thief in the night, no 
 nailed window or fastened door could prevent 
 his entrance. Aunt Barbour had gone with 
 aim, had left all earthly treasures for those 
 24*
 
 282 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 which in other days she had laid up where 
 moth and rust cannot corrupt, or thieves break 
 through and steal. 
 
 Willie was immediately sent for his father ; 
 and the dreaded coroner's inquest, soon sitting 
 over the dead body, pronounced the solemn 
 verdict, " Died by a visitation from God." 
 
 In the hand which was under the pillow, 
 was found, tightly clasped, the last will and 
 testament of Mrs. Barbour. It had been drawn 
 up on the afternoon previous to her death, and 
 had been the object of her ride. 
 
 Perhaps she had had intimation, which she 
 imparted to no one, that her *end was near, 
 and had therefore hastened to express her 
 wish in a sure legal way with regard to her 
 property. Perhaps the long cold drive had 
 hastened on the event which otherwise could 
 not have been far distant. The funeral, after 
 due time, was respectfully attended by most 
 of the inhabitants of Belden's Falls ; and old 
 Mrs. Barbour was laid to her final rest by the
 
 AUNT BARBOUB. 283 
 
 side of her brother, and not far from the spot 
 to which, so few months before, they had borne 
 little Lotty. 
 
 The night after the funeral, Mr. Sumner 
 deemed it proper to open the will, now, by the 
 late accession of property, become quite a 
 thing of importance. It was drawn in common 
 form, leaving the small house, which she for- 
 merly occupied, with all her household furni- 
 ture and personal wearing apparel, to her be- 
 loved niece, Mary Loring Sumner ; but every 
 thing else, which did pertain, or might here- 
 after pertain to her, either as real estate or 
 money, to her most dearly beloved great 
 nephew, William Loring Sumner. 
 
 " This she wished," so ran the will, " him to 
 possess, in part as a proof of her affection for 
 him, and in part as a proof of her gratitude 
 for the many little kind acts which he had 
 performed towards her, wishing to make spe- 
 cial mention of the late occasion upon which, 
 to save her old life, he had risked his own."
 
 284 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 She expressed, in language which must have 
 been her own, the hope that " he would possess 
 as many thousand dollars as he had incurred 
 blisters on his hands on her account." 
 
 Our story now draws rapidly to its conclu- 
 sion. We shall detain the readers for but a 
 few pages more. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Sumner deemed it prudent to 
 keep Willie in ignorance of the great good 
 fortune that had befallen him. " He will make 
 a better and a truer man to exert himself just 
 as far as his strength and health will allow," 
 said his wise mother. " He shall feel that his 
 education will no longer be impossible, or ac- 
 complished with sacrifices on our part ; but fur- 
 ther than that will not be for his future good." 
 
 Mr. Sumner perfectly agreed with her, and 
 they therefore resolved, with the exception of 
 Mr. Ashton, to make the will known to no 
 one. The amount of property could not be 
 settled until after a prolonged litigation, so 
 that nothing was of course definitely known,
 
 AUNT BARBOUR. 28S 
 
 And therefore the registry in the Probate 
 Court was conducted privately and quietly. 
 
 Willie could now, in all probability, have 
 been sent away from Belden's Falls to some 
 famous academy in which to complete his fit- 
 ting for college ; but his parents had the good 
 sense to be satisfied with " well enough," and 
 to know that there is no place in the wide 
 world so good for the entire and symmetrical 
 development of a boy, as at home under the 
 watchful eye of judicious parents. So Willie 
 and James passed their preparatory years to- 
 gether, growing to love one another more and 
 more, as time sped on ; and, entering the same 
 college, they became roommates, Willie, with 
 his high principles and his deep seated relig- 
 ious faith, keeping steady James's warm and 
 more impulsive nature ; and James, with the 
 genial glow of a happy, generous heart, throw- 
 ing such a warm, glad light all around the 
 arduous, and oftentimes difficult path of study. 
 Thus Willie forgot, in its brightness, many
 
 286 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 weary hours hours when the memory of those 
 early days of suffering and want was forced 
 upon him by the trembling nerves and often 
 failing strength which he had then fastened 
 upon him for life. 
 
 But what of Willie's purposes for the future ? 
 Have we lost our minister boy ? By no means. 
 Willie does not read his grandfather's old 
 sermons any longer, for he is looking forward 
 soon to writing them for himself. 
 
 Early and late, in season and out of season, 
 waking with him when he opens his eyes in the 
 morning, and blending with his dreams at 
 night, come back to the young man the boy's 
 fond wishes. And the goal is now nearly 
 reached. He is winning the prize. We cannot 
 refrain from a few words in a parting chapter, 
 to say how he ivears it.
 
 XIV. 
 
 npHE same bell which, in our opening chapter, 
 *- the crowd of little listeners were waiting 
 to hear chime the hour of noon, now sends 
 forth from the church belfry in Belden's Falls 
 its slow inviting notes. It is a beautiful Suu- 
 day morning in June. The fresh green leaves 
 glisten in the bright summer sun, and bend 
 their tender heads at the touch of the soft 
 breeze, as if conscious it had been sent to make 
 them assume the attitude of worshippers 
 Every little hillock is gay with early flowers, 
 and the very air is laden with the breath of 
 nature's sweetest incense its offering upon 
 God's altar purer and more fragrant than the 
 myrrh and frankincense which ascended at His 
 command from the temples made with hands. 
 Brooding over the whole, with that ineffable 
 
 (287)
 
 288 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 charm which a low, musical sound can alone 
 impart to a scene, was heard the dash of the 
 endless water, as, rejoicing like every thing 
 else to have its six days' work done, it was 
 rushing and tumbling over the smooth rocks, 
 sending up its spray, glowing like God's rain- 
 bow, and so audibly and visibly offering up 
 its Sabbath hymn. 
 
 Groups of well-dressed people began to wend 
 their way toward the church at the call of the 
 bell. Those accustomed to read the faces of 
 these quiet inhabitants could readily discern 
 that there was some object to-day of unusual 
 interest ; something which had waked to a 
 quicker beat the somewhat regular motion of 
 their hearts. 
 
 There was a little the look of a holiday, 
 though all was perfectly quiet and sedate, as 
 became holy hours. Every body has come out. 
 There is old Mrs. Judkins. She has never 
 been in church, so severe has been her rheu- 
 matism, since the minister, Mr. Loring, died.
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 289 
 
 But 1 she has her crutch to-day, anl Deacon 
 Webb has stopped at her door, with his two- 
 horse wagon, to give her a ride. See ! he helps 
 her as tenderly up those steps, as if she were 
 his own aged mother ; and once more, before 
 she is " borne in," the old lady shall come near 
 the mercy-seat which is placed in the sanctuary. 
 
 John Dobey, wicked, forsaken being that he 
 is, with so many years between him and the 
 time when he sat there before, has come up 
 now, because he has had an invitation from 
 the young squire. God may have been waiting 
 there for him all these long years, and will 
 meet him here to-day. Those who have been 
 too busy to attend church, and those who have 
 been too idle, are on their way to-day ; and all 
 the time the bells ring on steadily, clearly, as 
 all our calls come from God, if we would but 
 listen. 
 
 Before the bell tolls, the church is filled. 
 Who ever remembers to have seen so great a 
 crowd there befcre? Around the porch, out 
 25
 
 290 WIN AND WEAK. 
 
 upon the steps, sitting on the posts which 1 sur- 
 round the churchyard, are young men and 
 boys, and all look in one direction ; they arc 
 intent upon seeing the same tiling. Pretty 
 soon there is a stir among tHem; the smallest 
 boys run forward up the road, then return to , 
 hide themselves behind some corner of the 
 yard. 
 
 " They are coming ! " Many repeat it, but 
 softly ! for it is the Lord's day. Presently 
 an open wagon, drawn by squire Ashton's two 
 bay horses, with the young squire himself 
 driving, comes in sight, followed by another 
 covered carriage. 
 
 " They are all together," says some one, and 
 the excitement is at its height; but so quiet 
 and respectful, that but for one or two step- 
 ping forward to hold the horses' heads as they 
 stop, no one could perceive any thing unusual 
 in the crowd. 
 
 James Ashton now, as our readers will have 
 Surmised, the young squire, or " square," as the
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 291 
 
 people called him is just as handsome, just ag 
 happy, and just as good as when he was a boy. 
 Every body loves him. He is generous, noble, 
 and thoughtful for the poor. He does not live 
 in Belden's Falls ; but he comes home so often 
 from his office in the city, that all the inhabi- 
 tants feel as if he belonged to them. He is 
 their son, or their brother, or their dearest 
 friend. They have a special claim upon him, as 
 if, by some peculiar freak of nature, he was 
 a blood relation of them all. He remembers 
 it is Sunday ; but it takes all the self-control 
 of which he is master, to keep down the merrj, 
 hearty welcome which rises to his lips as natu- 
 rally as his very breath, when he sees so many 
 dear, familiar faces. He tries to look, noi 
 grave, but befittingly sober, as he hands out 
 first his mother, over whose face lies a deep, 
 quiet light, like that of the stars ; then the 
 young people, his half-grown brothers and 
 sisters ; and then his father, who has, though he 
 thinks no one suspects it, stayed on his seat
 
 292 WIN AND WEAR, 
 
 hoping to conquer the emotion which wells up 
 so freshly as he recalls the past. But his turn 
 has come, and he conceals what he feels by 
 giving the minutest directions about the horses. 
 
 But who is in this covered carriage ? Some 
 one who is very welcome ; for, in spite of the 
 day, and the good resolutions, it is immedi- 
 ately surrounded by the watching crowd. 
 What a shaking of hands ! Will it ever cease ? 
 for they go first to the front, then to the back 
 seat ; and their pleased faces show that they 
 find a very cordial reception. 
 
 The bell keeps on tolling, tolling. The sex 
 ton is evidently growing weary ; so the carriage 
 door is opened, and Mrs. Sumner, with her 
 pale but still beautiful face, is almost helped 
 out. There is a shrinking timidity in her whole 
 bearing. But Willie is now by her side ; he 
 has put her arm within his, and she feels that 
 it is hers alone that trembles ; his is firm and 
 strong. How quickly it gives her courage ! 
 There is something in a touch oftentimes more
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 293 
 
 eloquent than words. Willie gives one glance 
 over his shoulder at a young, beautiful girl, 
 with eyes so blue that it almost seems as if 
 the sky were sleeping there. It is a demure 
 little face, schooling itself to hide away the 
 joy and happiness, far, far out of sight, down 
 in the depths of its own heart ; but it is too 
 full, it is running over, and looking through 
 that sky, as the stars look out on a cloudless 
 night. Not even the plain dress, and the neat 
 bonnet, trimmed only with a simple white rib- 
 bon, can make the graceful, lifeful thing bear 
 herself with the sober dignity becoming a 
 minister's wife. She feels it all, and a shy 
 consciousness gives her a half-meek, half-be- 
 seeching air, which, if she only knew it, makes 
 her much more, charming. 
 
 r 'Lina," Willie whispers, as he drops a 
 moment behind his mother, on the church 
 steps, >: sit next to father, in church, he will 
 be so proud of you." And so they file in. 
 Willie and his mother. Mr. Sumner, grown 
 25*
 
 294 WIH AND WEAR. 
 
 old, but bearing with his years marks of so- 
 briety, intelligence, and " the well to do in the 
 world " look, which shows itself so clearly if 
 success attends middle life. Willie is " proud" 
 of his father now, and has good reason to be. 
 With him comes Lina, not Lina Ashton any 
 longer, but Lina Sumner now. 
 
 Perhaps, as she takes her seat in church, she 
 remembers how, when they were children, she 
 had to lose her place because her husband at 
 the examination gave her too difficult a word. 
 Perhaps she is going back over all these 
 years, and wondering that she did not know 
 how much they loved each other even then. 
 
 Now comes Warren Mr. Ashton's head man 
 in the care of his extensive factory business 
 stout and manly. Neither care nor study has 
 left a mark upon his face ; but he is a man for 
 all that, and one of these days shall make good 
 Mr. Ashton's place. And with him comes 
 " the baby." What a large child she has grown 
 lobe! She is larger wow than Lotty was when
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 295 
 
 they missed her from among them ; but she has 
 a look so mirh like the dead child in her face, 
 and in her winning, pretty ways, that her 
 mother often wonders if this is not a kind gift 
 of God to lighten the sadness which falls upon 
 her heart, whenever she thinks of her deaf and 
 dumb child. 
 
 Willie waits to close softly the door of the pew ; 
 then, calm and self-possessed, as if in his errand 
 he had forgotten the peculiar circumstances 
 by which he is surrounded, ascends the pulpit 
 stairs, and seats himself beside the minister. 
 Mr. Ross feels like a father to this " lamb of 
 his flock." He cannot forget him ; and, rising 
 to make the opening prayer, he leaves not a 
 dry eye in the church, as he thanks his God 
 that he has been spared to offer to Him anew 
 this young servant. And now that he was old 
 and grey-headed, he wished to place upon his 
 shoulders the consecrated mantle which had 
 been anointed with oil from on high. 
 Willie or, as we must now call him, the
 
 296 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 Reverend William Simmer followed the prayer 
 by reading a hymn. His voice may have 
 faltered at first, but true feeling- is deep and 
 strong, and his dear familiar tones reached v 
 even to the hearts of the most careless hearer 
 there. We cannot do justice to his sermon, 
 therefore we leave him here. 
 
 This was to be for the future Ms people, and 
 he knew that he must bring to them " apples of 
 gold in pictures of silver." 
 
 Mr. Lane stood waiting for him at the foot 
 of the stairs as he went down. Not a word 
 did he trust himself to say, but he grasped the 
 hand of his old pupil, which told of hopes 
 most brightly fulfilled. 
 
 And yet one other person stood at the door, 
 watching for his chance. 
 
 It is a great burly Irishman ; and his nice 
 dress, and the easy smile upon his pleasant 
 intelligent face, show that he feels he has 
 a claim to be welcomed. 
 
 "Ah! Jerry, I am very glad to see you,"
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 297 
 
 said the young minister, with a cordial shake 
 of the hand ; " I shall depend upon you for aid 
 in iny Sunday -school ! " 
 
 " And I will help you, Mr. Sunnier," said the 
 rough man, " as faithfully and as patiently as 
 you taught me to paste on cards of calico." 
 
 And now, what of Aunt Barbour's fortune ? 
 If any of my readers care much to know, they 
 do more than Willie did. 
 
 Mr. Sumner found that to follow out the 
 claims of the will would ruin many a poor 
 family, and bring much distress into the village 
 of Belden's Falls, so he sold the land at a fair 
 price to Mr. Ashton, and received beside a 
 regular rent for the land which the mill already 
 covered. 
 
 This he was unwilling to do, but Mr. Ashton 
 would take no denial. 
 
 When Willie was of age the whole matter 
 was stated to him, and he agreed fully with 
 his father as to the true justice und propriety 
 of the cour j he had taken. So now he came
 
 298 WIN AND WEAR. 
 
 to Belden's Falls and settled down among his 
 people with a clean hand and an open heart. 
 
 Poverty and suffering had not crushed him. 
 Ambition had not spoiled him, for his was a 
 holy ambition to make his one talent ten for 
 his Master's use. 
 
 Prosperity and wealth were valued as means 
 to accomplish the one great end. Truly Willie 
 Sumner has WON ; he has now the right to 
 
 WEAR. 
 
 THE END.
 
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