Front Cover
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Front Matter
 Table of Contents
 Back Cover

Group Title: Home books by Cousin Alice
Title: "No such word as fail", or, The children's journey
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00002222/00001
 Material Information
Title: "No such word as fail", or, The children's journey
Series Title: Home books by Cousin Alice
Alternate Title: Children's journey
Physical Description: 177 p., 3 leaves of plates : ill. ; 17 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Haven, Alice B ( Alice Bradley ), 1827-1863
Sinclair, Thomas S., ca. 1805-1881 ( Lithographer )
Jocelyn, Albert H ( Engraver )
D. Appleton and Company ( Publisher )
Publisher: D. Appleton and Company
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: 1852, c1851
Copyright Date: 1851
Subject: Perseverance (Ethics) -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Boys -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Brothers -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Poverty -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1852   ( rbbin )
Bookplates (Provenance) -- 1852   ( rbprov )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1852   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1852
Genre: Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
Bookplates (Provenance)   ( rbprov )
Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
United States -- Pennsylvania -- Philadelphia
Statement of Responsibility: By Alice B. Neal.
General Note: Added title page, ill. in colors, within colored ornamental border printed by T. Sinclair, Philadelphia.
General Note: Illustrations engraved by A.H. Jocelyn.
General Note: Publisher's advertisements follow text.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00002222
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002231300
oclc - 02642439
notis - ALH1668
lccn - 07002610
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front page 1
        Front page 2
        Front page 4
        Front page 5
        Front page 6
        Front page 7
    Half Title
        Front page 3
        Front page 9
    Title Page
        Front page 10
        Front page 11
    Front Matter
        Front page 12
        Front page 13
    Table of Contents
        Front page 14
        Front page 15
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
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    Back Cover
        Page 182
        Page 183
Full Text

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40: triketas Snnctiq.




Entered, according to Act of Congres, in the year 1851, by

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern Distrt of


Do you not like the sound, dear children You are
not strangers to Cousin Alice, many of you, at least, for
she has often met you at home, after school duties were
over, and the many games were ended, and you have
listened in the pleasant twilight to the tales that she has
brought for you. "Home Books," I shall call these,
because all things gentle, and beautiful, and pure, should
be gathered in home's happy influences-and there is
a charm in its every association. So when I come to
the fireside, I shall hope to be a welcome guest, and
we will talk of many strange and lovely things-that
is, if you are interested in my first little history of

November 8d.


I. THE Loes, .........................................9
II. PLANNIN ,.......................................... 21
. I. GomNG FORTs, ..................................... 85
IV. Tnz Fmsr STP, ...................................47
V. THE AmaRR T, ................. ................6....2
VI. TBuBL,...............................**..........
VII. A NEW LEBON,................................ 91
VIII. NEw FRIENDS ..................................108
IX. THE DEPARTURE................................... 1
X. NEW TBAzi, ...................................18.. 1
XI. OLD FRIENDS,..................... ............145
XII. Tm PERIL,..........................................166
XIII. AND LAS, .....................................165


(tilhren'd Snturttj.


" Now you see, Eddy, I have to study hard, for
pretty soon I shall be large enough to learn a
trade like father."
But you never get time to play marbles with
me any more, Robert; and mother doesn't like
me to go with those boys in the court."
"That's because they swear, and call bad
names, Eddy."
"Oh, dear, I don't like to go to school." And
the little fellow uttered a sigh of weariness, as he
toiled on over the heated pavements, with his elder
brother. He had a bright, childish face, with


flaxen curls, and blue eyes, that lighted up with a
smile. The elder boy, tall and slender, with
darker eyes and hair, was very proud and fond of
him, and it was a great trouble that he must deny
Eddy any thing. But he was already thoughtful
beyond his years, and when he saw his mother
pale and troubled, he longed for the time to come,
when he could assist in earning the livelihood for
which she struggled.
Poor Mary Lewis-she had been always gentle
and delicate. She was not fit to be a poor man's
wife. Misfortune after misfortune had come
upon them-sickness, poverty, and at last actual
want. And now was the hardest trial of all, sep-
aration from her husband, who went from city to
city seeking employment, until at last his quest
was ended in the far West, hundreds of miles
Sfrom his lonely family.
Mrs. Lewis had won the rare virtue of pa-
tience in the midst of her sorrows, and now she
was looking forward to the time when he could
send for them. But they were deeply in debt,
and this must first be discharged, and then it
required a large sum, for poor people, to take the
three as far as Pittsburgh.


They lived in one room of a house upon which
the sun scarcely shone. It was far back in a
narrow, dirty court, shut in by the high walls of
surrounding dwellings, with only a tiny strip of
blue sky to be seen from the window. All the
inhabitants of the court were poor people, who
had always been poor, and had never learned that
"neatness is the elegance of poverty."-Their
rooms were in dirt and disorder, their persons
were untidy, and the narrow lane was half filled
with the filth and offal from their dwellings. No
wonder that Mrs. Lewis would not let her brigw-
eyed Eddy play with the ragged children who
clustered around the door steps. It was not their
poverty,-she was as poor as they,-but their rude,
ignorant language shocked her, and she well knew
that "evil communications corrupt" even the purest
Sometimes she thought sadly of her early
married life. How bright it seemed to her now!
Too bright to have been more than a dream. The
two neat rooms, which her husband had furnished
so nicely, and the little garden-ground which it
was his pleasure to cultivate. That was in the
days of plentiful work and good wages, when she



had nothing to do but keep every thing in order
about her and tend their dark-eyed child. Robert,
she called him, for his father's sake. And now
this weary separation, and day after day of toil,
setting the stitches through the hard leather-for
she bound shoes for a large manufactory-while
her aching eyes almost refused to guide the Ieedle.
She bore up bravely, but her health was weakened,
and when good news came that her husband had
found regular and profitable employment, she was
too ill to write in return.
I Through all her trouble, through all her sick-
ness, Robert, now nine years of age, had been her
comforter, and her nurse. He was so like his
father, gentle, thoughtful, and considerate. He
brought the water, and made the little fire, smooth-
ed the pillows as a girl might have done, and
amused his sturdy, mischievous little brother,
when his merriment became too boisterous.
That was in the cold, dark days of early spring;
it was mid-summer now, and Mrs. Lewis was at her
work again, pale, and weaker than before; but
she could not bear that Robert should lose the
advantages of the excellent public school, where
even their books were supplied. Eddy was sent


with him now, for the first time, but it was more
to keep him out of the bad associations of the
court than for study.
There had been some plan proposed for closing
the schools this sultry weather, for it was the fear-
ful summer of 1849, when the cholera swept
through the crowded cities of our land. But those
who had control, wisely determined that it was far
better for the children to be quietly employed, in
large well-ventilated apartments, than packed in
the narrow dirty streets from which many of them
It was a season of terror to whole communi-
ties. The houses of the rich were closed, and
their owners fled from before the pestilence to
cool country retreats, where, alas, it often followed
them, when they deemed themselves most secure.
But the poor-there was no escape for them.
They must live on in the close unhealthy atmos-
phere-often weakened by a miserable diet, and
unavoidable exposure. It was sorrowful enough
for those who could gather their loved ones
together, and watch over them-but that was
nothing to anxiety for the absent. Any day, any
hour, the fatal news might come, and Mrs. Lewis



prayed more fervently for the husband she loved
so well, and thanked her Heavenly Father more
earnestly, when nightfall came, that her children
were still spared to her.
For the scourge had at last reached their city.
She had heard of it, afar off, and trembled; but
now it had followed the course of the noble Hud-
son, creeping inland from the great metropolis of
New-York, until it had reached the busy city,
which was now their home. Only the day before,
two of their neighbors had been borne away in the
death agony, and she shuddered as she hurried
passed their wretched dwellings, with the thought,
"who will be next to go?"
It was late in the hot July afternoon, when the
boys were going wearily homewards. The walk
was long, and they usually carried a luncheon of
bread, and did not return until all the lessons were
over. Eddy lagged behind, for the child was
unused to the confinement of the school-room, and
hated it, and Robert could scarcely get him past
the shop windows, that looked so tempting with
their display of cakes, and candies as beautiful
and transparent as the fruit of Aladin's Garden,
he was so fond of hearing about.


Ah, if mother would only give me some of
those pennies you bring her from the store"-
pleaded the little fellow. "I think she might,
and I would buy her some too."
"Poor mother has hard work enough, Eddy,
to get us bread and potatoes, and our clothes.
That's the reason we don't have nice new coats
like the other boys, and your apron has such a
great patch. Come, come, I shan't be home time
enough to take the shoes-and then I guess you'll
have to go without supper as well as the candy."
So they left the broad street, and crossed the
square, to the other side of the town, where the
pavement was narrower, and the stores were dark
little places, with stale cakes or fruit, lying close
to the dirty window-pane. The air was heated,
and burdened with unwholesome odors, and swarms
of children, with unwashed faces, and uncombed
hair, were lying about upon the steps, or playing
in the filthy puddles that were collected in the
street. Once they met a man with bloodshot
eyes, reeling home from a dram-shop, and then
their path was blocked up by a knot of women
quarreling with most abusive words, from some
trivial dispute.


These were sad sights for young children, and
one of the greatest evils to which they could be
exposed. Better, far, a crust of bread, in the
wide open country; with fresh air sweeping down
from the high hills, and God's own works teaching
purity and wisdom.
There seemed an unusual stillness in the court
when they reached it. There was not so many
people sitting in the doors, or leaning from the
windows. No one spoke to them, though one little
girl came after Robert, but her mother called her
back, and shut the door violently.
That's -Betty, Robert," said Eddy. "Mother
likes Betty, but her mother is so cross. I hate
cross people, don't you?"
Robert did not answer him, for a heavy weight
seemed to sink down on his heart, as they came in
sight of his mother's window, and she was not
sitting there to watch for them. Something had
happened-she was very sick, perhaps! and
quitting Eddy's hand, he ran up the steep narrow
stairs. His mother was not there, where she had
received them day after day, on their return.
Her work-basket was on the chair-her thimble
in the window-but the room was disordered, and



strange. The curtain had a lonely, dismal sound,
as it flapped against a chair pushed near it.
"Mother !" called Robert; as people some-
times cry out in a doubtful dream; he began to
tremble with horrid fears, and went back again
from the landing, for he had gone out at first,
thinking to look for her in some neighbor's room.
"Mother! where are you, Mother He
called again, and then he saw that she was there-
but lying upon the bed in a deep, deep sleep;
so deep, that he could not waken her, with all
his cries and moans. Nor did Eddy's sweet
voice and childish caresses recall her to conscious-
It was the sleep of DEATH.
He saw that her hands were locked so tightly,
that the blood had settled with deep purple stains
about the nails-her hair 'was unbound, and
matted about the sharp, thin face. The eyes were
not closed; but there was no life there; no smile
of welcome for her frightened children; only a
glassy, rigid stare, that was too horrible to look
Then there was a trampling upon the stairs.
It might have been at once or hours after, he could



not remember. The faces of the men were
strange to him, but he knew the kind-hearted
neighbor who tried to comfort them. But he
broke away from her, though Eddy nestled upon
her knee with loud and frightened sobs. He
clung to that dear form, that was now straightened
for the burial. But the men had their task to
accomplish, and they put him one side, while they
laid his mother in the rude coffin they had
brought, hurriedly, as if they wished all was over.
Not another glance at that dear face! No. more
caresses from those gentle hands! The lid "was
closed, and they bore their burden to a lonely,
nameless grave!
It was almost like madness, the frenzy that
came over the poor child, as they slowly descended
the creaking staircase. Some one held him back
when he would have followed them; and restrained
him again when he turned to spring from the
open window. Then he dashed himself upon the
floor, and writhed, and moaned, as he heard them
talking of his mother.
"It was a dreadful thing," they said. "So
sudden and such a hopeless case."
"And the poor children," a voice answered.
"Sorra a friend was there to look for them,"


After a while he comprehended it all. It was
the cholera they had so much dreaded. No
wonder thaIfis mother had been a victim, weak
maid feeble, shut up in the close court day after
day, bending over her needle. She was ill all
night-he remembered it now, that once he awoke
and saw her leaning from the window as if to
catch a breath of cooler air. And she was so
very, very pale in the morning, he had Dgged her
to lie down, but she only smiled, and told him
" perhaps there would be good news from father
to-day, and that would be all the rest and medicine
she needed."
Yes, she called them back, and kissed them
over again, after they had started for school!
Ah, how sadly all these recollections came
thronging to the heart of the poor lonely child.
How tenderly she had said, "my son!" and
he should never hear that dear voice again!
Fresh sobs and tears, and it seemed as if his
heart must break.
By-and-by all was still. They had tried in
vain to win him from his grief, and the only neigh-
bor who had dared to enter the infected room had
carried away his little brother, who, sobbing, had
fallen asleep.




There was a bright moonlight streaming into
the room, and making it almost as bright as day.
He was no coward, and the loneliness did not
appal him. His mother had taught him that
" the darkness and the light are both alike" to our
Heavenly Father, who watches over us through the
silent night. But oh, the fearful loneliness, as
he came to understand all that I have told you;
and to feel that his mother was gone for ever!
It was the first night he could remember, for
many years, that he had not knelt at her side to
ask God's protection in sleep; and as this thought
came to him, he remembered the beautiful things
she had told him, about His unchanging love and
goodness. He tried, in his childish way, to ask
that Friend to comfort him. It was not a formal
prayer, but the breathing of a sincere, trustful spi-
rit, for the aid of One it believed to be all-powerful.
It brought a feeling of peace and trust with its
very expression, and even while his lips moved,
weariness and grief overcame him, and he slept
where many a one older, and perhaps braver,
would have trembled to remain.



HE did not wake again until the morning light
came streaming in the window. Early as it was,
the sun's rays were powerful, and .he rose lan-
guidly, and leaning on his elbow, looked about
him. It was a long time before he could remem-
ber what had happened. He knew it was some-
thing strange and fearful, for he was alone, and
the room had an unnatural look. His eyes wan-
dered'to the table. There were their clean clothes
piled up, ready to put away in the drawer, and a
bundle of unbound shoes, just as the shop-boy had
left them with their parcel of thread, and the long
leather strips. The bureau drawer was open, and
half the contents tossed upon the floor, as if some
one had been making a hasty search there. But
the bed--empty and disordered-that recalled
every thing to him, though he tried to think that
he had been ill, and it was a horrid dream.



It was hardly possible to realize, that one day
had deprived him of the care of so dear a mother,
and had left him alone in the world with Eddy.
He longed to see that bright little face again.
He could not cry, although he felt more anguish
than his young life had ever known before. His
lips were dry and parched, and his eyes ached,
with the bitter weeping of the night. He remem-
bered that Mrs. Brown had taken his little brother
away, and now he would go and find her, and
perhaps she could tell him how it had all hap-
But Eddy was too young to know what he had
lost. He was playing with Mrs. Brown's children,
for it was late in the day, though the fragments
of breakfast were standing upon the table.
Mrs. Brown, herself, was rocking to and fro,
with a little girl in her arms. The child's face
was deadly pale, and it seemed to be in pain, for
it moaned without stopping. The mother had
no time to talk with him, but pointed to the table,
as if inviting him to eat, and went on with the
crooning sound with which she was trying to com-
fort the sick child. Robert was too sick at heart
to eat. He took up a bit of bread, but he could


not finish it, and seeing that the children were
screaming and quarrelling in the play, he called
Eddy to him, and tried to hush them.
"When is mother coming home?"-was the
first thing his little brother asked him.
Hush, Eddy"-it seemed wrong to speak her
But I want to know," persisted the little fel-
low. "Mrs. Brown says she has gone away, and
John says she is never coming back again, and
we've got to go to the poor-house. Have we,
It was the first time a thought of the future
had crossed his mind. What was to become of
them, indeed, without a relation that he knew of,
and they had no home now. It would be long
weeks before their father could know about what
had happened, and send for them.
Say-won't mother come home again?
Doesn't John tell stories?" Eddy had put his
arm about his brother's neck, and was flashing a
look of defiance at John, who seemed determined
to hold to what he had said, nevertheless.
"No," Robert said, softly-" Mother never can
come back again. She is dead."



"But why didn't she take us too?" Alas!
the last thought of the poor helpless mother had
been a wish that she could indeed take her chil-
dren with her. It was not selfish-but she knew
in the keen agony of that last moment, that she
was leaving them friendless and alone. No, not
alone, for she died commending them to the Friend
above all others.
The sick child's moans had become frightful
to listen to, and the mother beckoned Robert to
come to her.
"You must go for the docther"-said she, in a
low, frightened voice-"for the docther forninst
the corner-he as was wid y'r mother, an lives
in the red brick house wid the shutterss"
Robert was older than any of the little group
about him. He saw, in a moment, that no time
was to be lost, and before the rest of the children
had reached the door-for they followed him in a
body-he was half-way down the court.
He knew the house very well. The physician
who sometimes came to see his mother lived
there; and his light carriage was standing before
the door waiting for him to go on his daily round
of visits. Robert hurried on, for fear he should


miss him, but he was jut in time to stop him, as
he stood on the very threshold of the shop, for he
was an apothecary as well as physician-giving
some directions to the lad behind the counter
"You must come, sir-now, right away," the
boy said, seizing the doctor's coat in his eagerness
to attract attention. Winny Brown-her mother
sent for you, and she's dreadfully sick, sir.".
"Winny Brown!" said the doctor, as if trying
to recall the name of a patient.
"Yes, sir, up in the court, Ludlow's Court,
sir-where you used to come."
"Ah-I remember now; I was there only
yesterday for a cholera patient. One of the worst
cases I ever saw. No chance for hope." *
Robert's heart beat violently-he knew it was
his mother the doctor spoke of; poor little Winny
was for a moment forgotten.
Another case, no doubt-the cholera makes
clean work of it in those alleys. Brown-that
was the name of the woman who staid by the poor
"Please, sir, do come"-urged Robert, for the
thought of Mrs. Brown's rough, but honest kind-
ness, recalled to him the urgency of the case.


"In one moment, my' little lad-one moment.
James, see that those pills go directly to Miss
Johnson. The powders are for her father-and
mind you, don't give prussic acid for salts-as a
young fellow down town did yesterday, and has
got to pay for it. If the child dies, it's a prison
job. Have the horse all ready when I come back.
I haven't a moment to lose these times."
So, snatching up a vial of some active remedy,
and talking to James as he went, the doctor
started on his benevolent errand: benevolent in
every sense of the word, for he knew there was
little recompense to be gained in Ludlow's Court.
Its miserable inhabitants could scarcely provide
food. Medical attendance was a luxury they must
be dependent upon charity for.
"So it's a child," he said to Robert, klking
as fast ag he walked. "And when was it aken
-and what have they done for it ?"
SI don't know, sir, but it's very sick, and Mrs.
Brown doesn't seem to know any thing but that,
and she told me to come for you."
"You're not one of Mrs. Brown's children ?"
Asked the doctor suddenly, struck by the purity of
the child's voice and accent. You are not Irish ?"


Oh, no; but she was so good to my mother,
and she took care of Eddy last night, and I'm
afraid Winny took the sickness in our room."
Why! you're one of those very children. I
ought to have known you before, but I was think-
ing about that stupid James. He'll sell arsenic
for sulphur, some day;. So it was your mother!
poor little fellow; why I remember her calling
you a famous nurse last spring. Poor woman,
her trouble was soon over."
The tears sprang to Robert's eyes. The doc-
tor's tone was so kind, and it brought his present
trouble to fresh remembrance.
If your mother had not been so weak,
she was the last one to take the cholera;" contin-
ued the doctor. "She was always so neat, and
kept things so tidy about her. Now no wonder
haltthe people take every epidemic that's going,
they live more like swine than human beings.
Cold water is one of the best preservatives of
health, whatever it may be as a cure. And then
their food, half the time too rich for any one to
digest, badly cooked, and eaten in haste. The
worst of it is, they always have to make up for it;
and the famine is as bad for them as the feast.



But do you know what you are to do now, that this
good mother of yours is gone?"
"I should like to go to my father, sir."
"But travelling costs money, and Mrs. Brown
took charge of all that was in your room last
night. It wouldn't take you further than New-
Robert's face fell. This was the only thought
that had comforted him. What would become of
them indeed!
Mrs. Brown and I talked it over last night.
She's a rough jewel of a woman, and I always
liked your mother somehow. So I thought what
could be done for you boys. There was only one
thing we could think of. What do you suppose
I was going to do, after my day's work was over ?
Get a permit for you to go out on the farm, as we
call it, until your father could send to you."
Robert knew he must mean the poor-house,
and John had overheard the conversation no doubt.
That was what he had told Eddy.
He was too young to understand what an alms
house was, but he had always associated it with
disgrace. Eddy, young as he was, had learned
the same feeling. He could not help it. His


face colored to a deep crimson, when the doctor
asked him how he thought he would like it.
But they had reached Ludlow's Court, and he
was spared the answer, for the doctor was soon at
Mrs. Brown's side, and placed his hand upon the
cold forehead of the moaning little Winny. The
boy was glad to feel of some use to good Mrs.
Brown. He brought the water and heated it for
the hot bath the doctor ordered, and ran back
to the office to get some laudanum drops from
James. In half an hour the child seemed easier,
and the doctor took leave promising to come again
at noon.
Winny did not die. She was one of the few
of the many cases in Ludlow's Court that resisted
the attack of this fearful disease. When good
Doctor Cook came in, as he had promised, the
worst symptoms had disappeared, and the grateful
mother poured out her thanks in a torrent of
Robert all this while did not approach his
friend of the morning. He was trying to comfort
Eddy, who was now crying bitterly for his mother.
John teased him, and he was tired of play. He



began to understand that his mother would not
"Come, come, this won't do," said Dr. Cook,
turning suddenly round. Crying, my little fel-
low! Why, be a man, like your brother there."
Robert had shrunk from the doctor's notice, for
he feared that he had come to tell him they were
to be taken to the alms-house. He had been
brooding over it all the morning, andoit seemed
more and more like disgrace, a feeling that many
poor people are taught from infancy. But Robert
remembered how his mother had' feared the
necessity when she was ill. She had been the
daughter of a small farmer in the country, and
brought up with a feeling of honest pride in the
independence of her parents.
"I'm not as good as my word," said the doctor
a moment after. "I have not had time to attend
to that little matter for you yet. Mrs. Brown
will have to take care of you another night. But
she won't grumble at that I guess just now.
You won't like it out there at first perhaps; but
there's nothing like getting used to new quarters.
Only lazy people dread it, and you are any thing
but lazy, I'll answer for it."



"Please, sir"-Robert began.
"Well, what's to please me ?--out with it."
"I know you are very kind-but we wouldn't
like to go-Eddy and me."
But what will you do ?" asked the physician,
more seriously. "You must not be foolish, and
Mrs. Brown has all these childer" of her own to
see to. Besides-bread and butter costs some-
thing) and where is the small change to come
from ?"
The doctor came over to the window and pat-
ted him on the head as he spoke.
"I'm sure we could find father;"-the child
had been resolving every thing in his mind through
the day, but he had no more idea of distance than
he had of means. "We could walk-and some-
times beg a ride, sir."
"Your poor little feet could give out long be-
fore you had gone fifty miles, and it's more than
ten times fifty. No, no, that can't be thought
Indeed, sir, I would rather walk every step
of the way-and carry Eddy."
The doctor looked down into the clear eyes
turned on him with so much earnestness, and was


struck by the determination which his words and
tone evinced.
"I do believe you'd manage it," he said, in-
voluntarily thinking aloud; there was so much
manliness and honesty in the expression of his
face, remarkable for one so young.
"You are your mother's own boy. I only wish
I could ford to pay your expenses myself.
But the doctor's generosity was limited by a
very narrow purse, and he had daily more cills
Supon his naturally benevolent heart than a
wealthier man could have satisfied. However-
all praise be to him for it-he did what he could
when he found that the boy's determination
was not to be shaken. He found a purchaser
for the few articles of furniture,-a part of the
wedding gifts poor Mary Lewis had prized so
much-in the pawnbroker on the corner. He
knew it was less than the well-made articles were
worth, but ten dollars seemed a fortune to Robert,
and he did not know that the other five had been
added by the doctor himself. Mrs. Brown pro-
duced three more, the little hoard of their mother,
and a few shillings in change were found in her
work-basket. The well-saved but slender ward-


1K~ ~ c





robe she had possessed, was by the doctor's advice
given to their kind neighbor, and their own, well-
mended but wonderfully neat and clean, was tied
in a large handkerchief ready for the journey.
All these little preparations took until the after-
noon of the next day. The doctor had written their
father's address upon a card, which he charged
Robert to be very careful of, ana he had taken a
map to show them the towns through which they
must pass. Nor did his kindness stop here. He
drove them in his own light carriage to the wharf-
after a tearful leave-taking of Mrs. Brown, John,
and Winny-saying that he had an errand that
way. What his errand was, may be guessed from
the fact that he interceded with the captain of a
boat, for a free deck passage down the river, and
then bade them good-by hurriedly, as if he was
already beyond his time, shaking Robert by the
hand as if he had been a man, and patting Eddy's
curly little head, as he told him to be a good boy
and mind his brother.
"I shall hear of that boy yet," he said to him-
self, as he turned to take a last look at them as
the boat moved off. "I'd trust him to take care
of himself any where."



So farewell to kind Doctor Cook, one of those
"good Samaritans" who adorns his profession,
bringing light and hope to the sick room, and
consolation to the chamber of death. And though
his good deeds were not done to be seen of man,
"verily he has his reward."


RRosenT did not feel, when the doctor bade him
good-by, that he had left behind the very few
who had any interest in the children of the poor
mechanic. The world is not filled with such men,
as the physician had proved himself to be, and
people generally have quite too much to think of
to become deeply interested in entire strangers.
The two children sat in one corner of the deck
with their arms around each other, and the pre-
cious bundle swinging from Robert's arm. There
were few passengers in that part of the boat, for
the emigrants are mostly on their way Westward,
and very few people who had not urgent business
ventured to enter New-York, while the cholera
was at its height. The doctor had thought of their
exposure to it, among other difficulties attending
their journey; but the panic was universal, and
he came to the conclusion, that it was no worse in



proportion to the population, than in their own
city. It was a hazardous undertaking in every
point of view, but somehow he had great faith in
Robert's determination, and he feared lest the con-
finement and rude intercourse of the alms-house
should break so fine a spirit.
So there was no one to notice them or.talk to
them for a long time, but Eddy was fully occupied
and interested in watching the monotonous revolu-
tions of the engine, and listening to the strange
clang of the machinery, which gave as it were life
and motion to the iron arms. Robert looked at
the long foaming track they were leaving behind,
at the green shores by which they passed; and
though the gentle motion soothed him, he thought
of his mother, and how much she would have
enjoyed the fresh air, and the beautiful scenery.
He had scarcely any recollection of the country,
but his mother had often described to them her
early home, amid the hills that bordered this very
river, and he watched them as they glided by,
wondering if he had not seen the very one on
which the homestead stood.
Then he thought of the great change the last
two days had made. He could scarcely believe



he was the same boy that had fulfilled his regular
daily tasks, without any care, except a wish to
assist his mother, and so kindly watched over by
her. Now she was lost to him, and he had been
suddenly thrust upon the world, not only to make
his own way through its difficulties, but also to
provide for their mother's darling child, little
By this time, Eddy had become in some meas-
ure accustomed to the novelty of all around him,
and was quite tired of sitting still in one position.
Robert followed him as he ran about the deck from
one side to the other, in constant terror, lest he
should fall overboard, notwithstanding the high
railing made it perfectly secure. By and by they
ventured nearer the cabin, where the first class
passengers were seated in groups, some reading,
some talking, and all looking very comfortable for
a warm day.
"Oh, only see," Eddy cried out, "what pretty
things Do come here, Robby !" and his brother
followed, more to keep him out of mischief, than to
admire the pretty things.
But he was quite dazzled by what he saw.
He had never imagined such magnificence: the


white and gilded walls, the rich curtains of the
berths, the beautiful mirror, and above all, Eddy's
especial admiration, the chandelier, with its glit-
tering pendants flashing to and fro with the motion
of the boat. He almost thought the flowers scat-
tered over the soft velvet carpet were real; and
wondered how the people could walk about on them
so carelessly. The ladies, who were lolling on
the sofas and in the rocking chairs, how beautiful
they were, too! It seemed as if they were born
to live in the midst of these lovely things. Their
shining hair was smoothly parted, not tucked
back, like Mrs. Brown's, with a broken comb, and
their white hands were covered with rings, that
sparkled almost as beautifully as the drops on the
chandelier. They did not look as if they knew
what it was to work. Poor Mrs. Lewis wore no
rings but the plain gold circle given at her mar-
riage, and her hands were cut and blackened
by drawing the stout thread through them, hour
after hour. Robert wondered if these ladies knew
there were poor people who had to work so hard
to earn their bread.
And as he thought this, a child-it was just
what he had imagined an angel must be-with


blue eyes and long golden curls, came to one of
these very ladies and called her "mamma."
The lady was reading, and did not seem to
wish to be disturbed, for she said, Nurse," to a
neat looking mulatto woman, take Lily on deck
The little girl walked away very quietly, as if
she were well pleased with the arrangement, and
they came towards the door where the boys were
standing. Robert almost held his breath while
she passed by. The fluttering drapery of her
white dress touched his sleeve, and he looked into
her large beautiful eyes. He scarcely knew that
she was gone, for his eyes were fixed on her in
strange admiration. He had often wished for a
sister. He had sometimes fancied what she would
be like, and how proud he would be of her, and what
care he would take of her. He had never seen
any thing so lovely as this child before. She was
so delicate and pure. So unlike the little girls he
had seen at school, in their chintz dresses and stiff
brown hair.
Eddy seemed to share his admiration.
What a pretty little girl-wouldn't you like to
play with her, brother?" he said.



So the two instantly followed to where the
child was playing with her nurse, under an awn-
ing. They watched her graceful movements for
a long time. Every one seemed to admire her.
The ladies who were walking up and down stop-
ped to ask her name of the gratified nurse, and
the gentlemen tried to bribe her away with sweet-
meats, which she refused. At last she seemed to
notice Robert, who had drawn as near as he dared
to, and was still watching her intently. Then she
slid down from her nurse's knee, and came up to
him, for there were no other children on deck, and
she began to be tired of the servant.
"Her name is Lily"-he said softly, not seeing
that Eddy had crept away. "Lily is such a pretty
name, just like a flower."
"Did you call me?" said the little girl, coming
close to him with all the frankness of childhood.
Robert colored, for he did not think he had
spoken aloud.
"Are you going to New-York?" said she
again, as if determined to make him speak.
"Yes," he answered, hesitatingly. It seemed
wrong for him to be talking with such a beautiful


"Does your father live there? where is your
mamma ? I don't see her."
Robert's lip trembled at the question. "I
have no mother," he said. "She died, and she
has gone to heaven."
"Poor little boy!" and Lily's eyes grew dim
with the quick sympathy of her loving heart.
"Haven't you got any little sister ?"
"No, there's only Eddy and me. Eddy is a
great deal younger than I am."
Was that the little boy I saw with you ? I
wish I had a little brother. Mamma has only Lily,
and papa--where's your papa? she asked sud-
denly, as if it had just been suggested to her
A great ways off. I have not seen him for
a year. But we are going to him now, and I hope
we shall always stay there."
But who takes care of you ?" persisted Lily,
looking up into her young companion's face with an
eager glance. Mamma, and Catharine, and Uncle
John take care of me. Have you got an Uncle John ?"
Just then a tall handsome man came out upon
deck. He had a curling beard and moustache,
and his fine face had a haughty air as he looked



around him; more especially when he saw Lily,
who was now close to Robert, in conversation with
a boy, evidently belonging to one of the deck pas-
"Lily-Lily, come here," he called, rather
"That's Uncle John, and I must go"-said the
child. He seems cross sometimes, but he never
scolds very hard."
"Come, child," said the uncle, approaching
Lily looked up into Robert's sad face, for the
animation with which he had chatted with her was
fading away; and in the innocence of her heart
she would have put her arms about his neck and
kissed him; the only way of consolation known to
her. But her uncle was looking on, and Catha-
rine; with a frightened air, now came to separate
them, so she only put her little white hand in his
and said-" Don't cry-I'll come and talk to you
But the boy also heard the fretful remon-
strance of the nurse, who saw Lily's uncle was
displeased, and the gentleman himself said, almost


"I'm ashamed of you, Lily-talking with such
a little vagabond. Can't you find any other com-
panion than a beggar boy ?"
He's not a beggar boy," the child answered
daringly-" and I like to talk to him."
But the last was lost to Robert, who heard
only the uncle's insulting words, and anger and
mortification took the place of the gentle feelings
that had been welling up in his heart. He could
not understand why Lily should not be allowed to
talk with him, or how he looked like a beggar. If
the gentleman had but taken pains to glance a
second time, he would not have been afraid of any
contamination from the mind mirrored forth in that
gentle, honest face. But he judged only from
first appearances, like many of his class, and the
boy's clothes, fashioned by his mother's hand, were
unfashionably though neatly made, and had more
than one repair in the shape of darns or a patch.
Had he been a rich man's chilt the linen collar,
with its jaunty tie, the fine Leghorn hat, and the
gloves shielding his hands from exposure to the
sun, would all have spoken in his favor, and the
uncle had doubtless smiled at the display of
juvenile gallantry. As it was, Robert had his




first lesson in those social distinctions which-
to our shame be it spoken-separate the rich
and poor, even in our own country; no matter
what may be the claims of refinement and in-
Poor child! It was not the only blow his sen-
sitive nature was to receive. Little do we estimate
the "weight of words." They may bruise many a
wounded spirit, even when lightly spoken, and
forgotten as soon as said.
Lily's uncle deposited the child at her mother's
side, and shortly after lighted a costly cigar and
walked to the other end of the boat, to enjoy its
delicious fragrance. Robert with swelling heart,
to which all his trouble seemed recalled with
double force, called Eddy to him, and crouched
down behind a coil of ropes-to escape the obser-
vation of all. And there he sat brooding over his
mother's death, and the uncertainty of the search
he had undertaken, which now for the first time
appalled him. At first it had been but a vague
desire. Any thing to escape the terror of the
alms-house, and to see his father again. Then all
had been hurry and excitement, with no chance for
S reflection. Eddy, weary with the fatigues of the



preceding days, and untroubled by the past or
future, had fallen asleep with his head upon Ro-
bert's knee. His brother stooped down and kissed
his forehead tenderly, as a girl might have done,
for he remembered how fondly his mother.had
bent over her youngest born. Her sunny boy,"
she used to call him, when his rich ringing laugh
came to dispel all sombre thought, or his caresses,
boisterous though they were, brought smiles to
her faded face.
Gradually the glorious sunset faded into a
deepening twilight. The outlines of the shore be-
came indistinct, and the mountains seemed to heave
up like giants in the pathway. Now and then they
would pass some town or village with its cheerful
hum and clustering lights, breaking upon the
darkness and stillness. The deck would be
crowded for a moment by departing or arriving
passengers; then the hoarse voices of the sailors,
as they drew the wet ropes through their toil-
hardened hands, and the quick trampling of feet
died away, and all was quiet again. There was a
steady gleam of light from the cabin windows-he
knew Lily was there, and the thought was almost
like companionship. By and by-the flare of the



blaze reflected upon the water,-the paler stars
overhead became blended and confused. The
clank of the machinery sounded afar off-and the
boy had forgotten his troubles in sleep.



WHAT a change from the quiet of nature upon
which his eyes had closed, was the scene which
greeted him when he woke! The shock of the
boat striking her wharf had roused him, and Eddy
was awake to, rubbing his eyes still sleepily but
good-naturedly, as if he wondered where they were,
and what was to be dofie next. All was bustle
and confusion around them. The sailors were
trampling about the decks, and one of them
rudely pushed them one side, and asked them if
they "did not know better than to stand in the
Trunks, carpet-bags, and boxes were strewed
around them, for the baggage room was open, and
sleepy cross-looking passengers were pointing out
their property. Cabmen with their long whips
were crowding the gangway, shouting--" Carriage
sir"-"Irving House Coach?"-" take you right



up Broadway, sir"-and a hundred other cries,
which were quite a foreign language to our inex-
perienced travellers. Sometimes there were joyful
greetings exchanged between those who had just
arrived, and friends who came to meet them, with
rapid inquiries for all at home" or compliments
upon the good looks of those returning. It was
a busy, animated scene, all eager, all excited, after
the remains of the drowsiness had passed away,
and Robert, alive to new impressions, was deeply
Presently he heard a voice that sounded fa-
miliar, and turned just in time to see Lily hurried
into an elegant carriage,'waiting upon the wharf.
Her mother, looking very lovely, was already
seated there, and Uncle John came bustling along
with a dressing-case under his arm, giving some
direction to a porter, about a pile of baggage
which belonged to them. Robert sprang to the
railing and waved his hand to Lily. Ho could
not help it, even though they all saw him. He
could not tell whether she noticed it or not,-but
she leaned back from the carriage window, until it
was out of sight, watching the boat. Perhaps she
was thinking of him, at any rate-and he could see


her, as lovely as before with the curls falling about
her face, and her sweet smile.
No* she was gone-the only one who had
spoken a kind word to him since he had parted
from his friends; for the captain, whose easy good
nature had given them their passage, was too busy
to bestow a thought upon his friend the doctor's
proteges, and they had instinctively avoided the
notice of the passengers. But though no one
watched for them, or came to conduct them to a
home where loving ones waited them, they must
leave the boat and mingle with the crowd. Robert
lingered for a long time, even with Eddy pulling
him by the arm, for the child longed to see what
was before him, and the boat had been explored
the night before. His brother felt as if he was
leaving the last thing that connected him with his
old home, his few friends, and the memory of his
mother. He looked out upon the wharf, crowded
with bales, and boxes, and drays-and his heart
failed him. For a moment he half resolved to
remain on board, and return in the boat. But the
alms-house-and the cruel overseer he had heard
the poor people in the court talk about! No,
that would not do-for his father might never



hear he was there, and they would be left to
grow up with no one to care for them, or love
There was no return; for in another moment
he had crossed the plank, leading Eddy by the
hand, and carrying the bundle. Now for the
first time he was to act for himself, for both of
them, and to prove whether he really had that
courageous spirit the doctor fancied he had dis-
The faces of the crowd were all -trange.
Every one seemed in haste, jostling each other,
and running almost under the wheels of the car-
riages. The wharf was crowded with steamboats,
many of them larger than the one they had just
left. Bells were ringing, the hiss of escaping
steam mingling with their clangor, and a distant
roaring of wheels increased the din. The boys
stood bewildered, not knowing which way to take,
or what to seek. Eddy, in alarm, clung more
tightly to his brother's hand, and impeded his
They could not be long stationary, however, in
the busy metropolis. They were jostled from side
to side, and Eddy was nearly knocked into the


water by a bale of hay from a barge that was un-
loading at the slip. He was not hurt, but he was
terribly frightened, and his sobs added to Robert's
But it will never do," he thought to himself,
to give it up at the beginning;" and so he stifled
his own fear, and said cheerfully,
"I guess we'll get some breakfast, won't we,
Eddy ? perhaps we'll feel better then."
Robert unconsciously had spoken a bit of true
philosophy. Troubles look lighter after a hearty
meal, and hunger is one of the most dispiriting
influences under which we can act.
By this time, they had reached one of the streets
which front the wharves of this immense harbor,
and before them was one of those stalls, which look
so tempting on the street-corners of large cities.
There were nuts, and cakes, and candies, in great
profusion, and fruit, stale to be sure, but with the
best side put towards customers, and this was
presided over by a countrywoman of Mrs. Brown's,
who, seeing the wistful eyes, called out-
Well, honeys, an' what '11 ye's be after buy-
ing ?" Oh, give me a cake, Robby, please," said
Eddy, who had quite brightened up with the pros-



pect of breakfast, "and an orange. I think an
orange would be so nice."
Two for sixpence," said the woman, turning
her wares, that they might be seen to advantage
" an' one o' thim candy sticks in the bargain."
It was certainly very tempting to two children
who had eaten nothing since noon of the day be-
fore, and who had the money in their own hands
to spend as they pleased. Robert turned over the
two sixpences and the pennies which his pocket
contained, but then he remembered what he had
been advised by the thoughtful doctor, to eat no
trash, especially cakes, and avoid half-ripe fruit
like poison."
It was a great act of self-denial, almost heroic,
as he saw Eddy's longing eyes already desiring
the dainties. But now the boy's spirit began to
show itself, for he drew his brother away, while
the old woman's cunning smiles changed to uncom-
plimentary remarks, to say the least, as they
passed on. It was not in the least romantic--but
Robert's first purchase on his own account was
half a pound of hard crackers, and some salt fish, at
a little grocery-cellar near by. But they made a
hearty breakfast I can assure you, sitting down


upon the steps of a large unoccupied warehouse,
and needing no plates, or knives and forks.
It was then, for the first time, Robert thought
of their toilettes, as he saw Eddy's tangled curls
peeping from beneath the coarse palm-leaf hat.
But appliances for a comfortable bath are not to
be met with on street-corners, and he was obliged
to content himself with smoothing down Eddy's
hair and his own, as best he could, and tying
afresh the bits of ribbon in their collars.
When one has lost a friend there are little
things happening many times a day to bring them
freshly to recollection. It was their mother's
hand that had always adjusted with loving vanity
this part of their simple dress. Robert remem-
bered, with a thrill of pain, the kiss that had
always followed it, as he took his school books and
bade her good-bye. Once more that strange
bewildered feeling came over him, that he was
acting in a dream, and he should wake and find it
They went on more bravely now. The remains
of breakfast stored in the bundle of clean clothes
for another meal, and they had grown accustomed
to the bustle and confusion around them. They


had asked the man from whom they had made
their purchases, where the Philadelphia cars went
from, and he had told them as well as he could,
but bade them inquire as they went along, of any
one they might chance to meet. The cars would
not go now until afternoon, he said, and they had
plenty of time to walk around a bit."
Robert was not sorry for this. He had read
about the great metropolis often, and had fancied
he should enjoy a visit to it very much. Trinity
Church with its high steeple, how he should like
a look from the top of it. And there was the
City Hall, and the Battery, that were described in
his geography. But they saw none of these fine
sights-for Robert found their small city, large
as it had seemed to him, was only a village in
comparison to New-York. The streets ran into
each other oddly enough, and though he tried to
follow the man's directions, he soon lost all the
landmarks that had been pointed out to him, and
wandered on, hoping every moment to come on
some public building he would recognize from the
pictures he had seen of them. But houses in
pictures and, real houses are two very different
things, and though he must have passed very


near Trinity Church, and crossed Broadway, he
did not know the one or the other-but seemed to
be only in a maze of busy streets, where every
one looked as if they were hurrying for life, and
* had no time to stop and tell people the way. On
and on, wandered the children, still hand in hand,
and like Eddy's favorite little people of romance,
the babes in the woods. The streets grew nar-
rower and more crooked,-the people they met
were like a different race from those they had first
seen. Squalor, and want, and wretchedness, were
everywhere around them, and though they had
always, since their remembrance at least, lived
among the poor, they could but wonder at the
misery which now met their eyes.
Children no larger than themselves were fight-
ing and quarrelling at the corners, and even in
the middle of the street. Robert, who had been
so carefully guarded from evil influences, shud-
dered as the holy Name he had been taught so
much reverence for, was coarsely taken in vain.
The court had contained both destitute and wicked
people, but here there was street upon street of
wretched dilapidated houses swarming with miser-
able inhabitants. And all this is within a stone's



throw almost of the great thoroughfare, where
wealth and elegance roll as in a tide, and thou-
sands are daily changing hands; adding yet more
to the coffers of the rich, and, it may be, taking a
part of their miserable pittance from the poor.
The heat of the sun grew more and more
intense. They had wandered miles without know-
ing it, and their feet began to be sadly weary. It
was already afternoon, and the sunshine beat upon
the filthy pavement, or was reflected with a glow
still more intense from the walls. Shade, there
was none, save now and then a dilapidated awning
over some corner store, where vegetables, meat,
household articles and liquors were sold indiscrim-
inately, to any one who called for them. It was
in one of thes~uninviting shops, that Robert first
ventured to inquire the way. A woman with a
baby on her arm was waiting at the counter for
change to the quarter she had given for a small
roll of butter. The child had large hollow eyes,
as one prematurely old, and the mother was thin,
and stooped as if with labor or illness. A dirty little
girl, with a bold saucy face, stared at them curi-
ously, as she offered a suspicious looking bottle to
be filled at the back counter. She had a small


dark loaf of bread wrapped in a handkerchief, and
this was probably the whole dinner of her family.
Robert waited patiently until both customers were
served, and the man behind the counter called out,
a Well, younker, what are you after ?"
Can you tell me the way to the Philadelphia
cars ?"--he asked timidly, for the man had a coarse
disagreeable face, and did not look as if he would
disturb himself very much to oblige any body.
He eyed them with a curious gaze, before he
said any thing, looking first at their faces, and then
at their bundle.
"What do you want with the Philadelphia
cars, eh ? Going on your travels ?"
We are going to Philadelphia, sir," Robert
answered, as politely as he could, yet moving to-
wards the door, for somehow he felt uncomfortable.
"Oh, ye are, are ye. Got your baggage I
suppose. How comes your pa to let ye travel
alone. Come, don't move off so fast. I haven't
told ye the way yet. S'pose ye stop here a minute
while Dan'l minds the shop, and I'll go and bring
somebody, as can show ye right where ye want to
"Dan'l" was a boy who had been all this time



rinsing stone bottles at the corner-pump. He
seemed very small of his age, and had a sharp,
thin face, with a cunning glance of the eye, that
was any thing but an agreeable expression. He
could not have been much older than Robert, but
as his father observed he could already "drive
a fust rate bargain," and was often left at the
"Set down, set down," said the man as he
went out. I won't keep you waiting long. An
eye on customers, eh, Dan'1!" and then he wink-
ed to the young hopeful, as much as to say, "keep
a sharp look-out."
He was as true as his word, and did not keep
them long, but returned with a tall man who wore
a star on his breast, such as Robert had seen in
the pictures of Napoleon. Wlhile the grocer was
absent Robert had been thinking that he had
wronged him after all, for it was certainly very
good in him to leave his shop to oblige them-and
now seeing so fine a gentleman with him-he
imagined it must be a captain at least, and made
him a very polite bow, as he came towards them.
But the officer took no notice whatever of his
civility. So these are the chaps, are they," said


he, "pretty young to be in such business ? Come
along, sonny,-what's in that there bundle ?"
He seized Eddy's hand, rather roughly, Robert
thought, but he cooly said-
"Will you take us to the cars, sir ?"
"Pretty good that," the man said, laughing
with the grocer, as if it was an excellent joke.
Yes, I'll take ye a road you'll travel pretty often
with this beginning."
Don't let's go with him, Robby," said Eddy,
shrinking back. Please don't, brother--you find
the way."
"Too late for that now, my young Jack Sprat,
-here, give us that bundle, and hurry up."
"You cum to the wrong shop," the grocer
added with another of these disagreeable leers.
" Next time you try shop-lifting, don't walk right
into the mouth of the police."
Robert knew that "shop-lifting" meant steal-
ing; that, too, was a part of his education in the
court, where honesty was not considered "the
best policy" by many juvenile offenders. He be-
gan to understand what the man meant, and drew
back indignantly.
"I'm not a thief," he said, his color mounting,



and his eyes flashing with shame and anger. He
who had never taken the value of a penny that did
not belong to him! He could not believe for a
moment, that any one would dare to accuse him of
such a thing.
All very fine," said the policeman-for the
star was a badge of his office;-" but I've heard
such things before. Of course, you ain't going to
own up. But here's proof against you," and he
shook the bundle in his face.
Those are my clothes, and Eddy's, and the
money is mine too !" exclaimed the boy, choking
with mingled terror and mortification.
Oh ho so there's money, too! He'll put it
in safe-keeping for you," said the grocer; so off
with you; and, Dan'l, you see what people gets by
such tricks."
Resistance or remonstrance was all in vain.
The policeman would not stop to examine the
bundle. He took the word of his friend, the
grocer, that it contained stolen goods, and the
man himself seemed to think he had done a parti-
cularly praiseworthy action in delivering two such
juvenile offenders into custody. "Dan'l" followed
them down the street, as the policeman hurried


them along, grasping a hand of each in a hold it
was in vain to think of escaping from,-making
various impertinent gestures, and calling out "stop
thief!" every time they passed a knot of boys on
the corners.
Poor Robert! It was more than his proud,
sensitive nature could bear, for, nothing loath, the
young idlers joined their delighted young perse-
cutor in the hue and cry, and even men and
women looked on with apparent curiosity, at what
was not an unfrequent occurrence in that quarter
of the city. Eddy's fright had subsided into a
kind of vague terror and wonder, but Robert felt
every curious glance, every ribald word, and was
hurried on with downcast eyes and blushing
cheeks, as if he had been indeed the culprit he




IT seemed as if the walk would never come to
an end. Weary little Eddy lagged far behind,
and was ordered to keep up in no very gentle lan-
guage. They passed through streets more like
those Robert had seen in the first of the day.
Old clothes were swinging from wooden frames
above the store doors-bright articles of fancy
jewelry were displayed in glass cases. Pawn-
brokers' shops with the three golden balls attract-
ed the needy at almost every corner, with an-
nouncements of money loaned on the smallest
deposits," and itinerant venders of soap, matches,
fruits, and candies, jostled them at every step.
But Robert scarcely looked about him, until at
last the policeman tapped him on the shoulder, and
"Look here, you young rascal! That's where
the city will give you board and lodging for noth-


ing. That building's the Tombs, my fine bird.
Splendid hotel-excellent rooms-and nice accom-
modations !"
There was something very dismal in the name,
and still more so was the, building itself as it
loomed up from the end of the street they had
entered. It was surrounded by dingy houses, and
was dingy itself, though massive in its structure
and proportions. It was built of dark stone, in a
style Robert had never seen before, and looked as
strong as the castles of old times of which he had
read. He knew it was a prison, and shuddered,
but his heart would have lost all hope, could he
have seen through those heavy walls, and looked
upon the unhappiness, and the sin of those whom
they separated from the outer world.
"You won't stay there long, to be sure, for
being its July, they'll give you country lodgings,
you and that little brother of yours. You ought
to be ashamed to drag him into such mischief!
I s'pose you know I mean going down below,-to the
Penitentary," continued the man who seemed to
be in a talkative humor.
But Robert answered nothing. A sickening
fear of the prison came over him, and the alms-



house was a bright picture beside it. Eddy too--
must he be shut up in a close stifling cell, when even
the pleasant school-room had been so wearisome ?
He would die-Eddy would die-and he be left
alone to bear the anguish and the shame. But
had the policeman the power he threatened?
Could he close the prison doors upon them-and
cut off all life and hope ? Perhaps he could get
some one to write to Doctor Cook, and he would
prove that they were honest boys.
They were honest! Yes, he had been think-
ing of punishment as inevitable. The policeman
could not prove any thing against them, and the
Judge would believe that he told the truth.
Ah, poor child! little did he know how easily
innocence is confounded with guilt,-and the very
place in which he had been found would tell
against him, for many juvenile offenders against
the laws of God and man had been traced to those
miserable precincts. No wonder that the children
who have known no other home learn speedily the
only education open to them, a knowledge of theft
and deception, which they see practised every
where around. How can they be expected to
obey laws of which they have never heard? Thou


shalt not steal," has never been taught to them,
and a dread of detection is their only conscience.
Twelve, rang loudly from a neighboring church
clock, as they were led like guilty culprits up
those wide stone steps, and into an immense hall
supported by large columns, like those at the
entrance. Eddy shrunk back, with undefined
terror. Every thing was so strange and gloomy.
The very coolness, after the hot sunshine without,
seemed disagreeable. The hall was filled with
groups of people, hanging about the different
doors which opened from it. Coarse oaths and
exclamations, resounded on all sides; several
policemen, with their glittering stars, were trying
to keep something like order, and welcomed the
new comer with what's in hand now ?" as he
brought forward his little prisoners.
"You're rather late," one said, there want
much to dispose of this morning, and Justice
Drinker has just gone into his private den, so
there:s no getting at him. You'd better put these
young people in the lock-up at once."
"What did he lift?" another inquired care-
lessly, pointing at Robert with his thumb.
Oh, I haven't looked into things yet, but



Jones, the grocer in Catharine-street, near my
beat, caught him at it, and it didn't take much
science after that, you know !"
He didn't catch me at any thing," interrupted
Robert, whose resentment overcame his fear.
Bless me! he's as bold as though he'd served
his time down below. Sing'ler how they all plead
'not guilty,'" said the man.
"Indeed he did not! and I only stopped into
the store to inquire the way to the Philadelphia
cars. I never stole a pin in my life, and
I wouldn't if I was starving !"
Don't cry, Robby," said Eddy, comfortingly,
stealing closer to his brother, for tears were run-
ning down the boy's face. "He's a bad wicked
man, and I hate him, and I'll tell the doctor of
him, I will!"
The policemen broke into a broad laugh, at
this chlidish threat, and the unconscious gesture of
menace which accompanied it. Buttheir boisterous
mirth was hushed, and they touched their hats re-
spectfully, as a door near them opened, and two
gentlemen came out, theone making his parting
compliments, and the other with a pen in his hand,
as if he had just risen from a desk.


The children were directly in* the way, and
Eddy, with all the fearlessness and confidence of
childhood, looked up, with his arm still about Rob-
ert's neck, and said appealingly-
Shall these bad, naughty men take my
brother to prison, sir ?"
The policeman grasped his collar with a threat;
but the gentleman with the pen motioned him
What's all this, Jenkins?" What has he
been doing? Just bring them in here to me," he
said mildly, re-entering the other room.
The child's face had something so earnest, so
winning in it, that, hurried as he was, he could
but notice it. So he placed himself at the desk
again, and the boys were led in before him.
Two young vagrants, sir, that were prowling
about Baker-street, and trying to get off out of
the city with this bundle. They went into the
store of a friend of mine, and began asking about
the Philadelphia cars. They being over in Jersey
City made him think strange at first; he began to
question them, and found this big one tried to get
off. But I was right in the neighborhood, and
took charge of them. That's a bad street-Baker-



street-and there's been a good bit of lifting one
way and another going on."
And what have you to say to all this 7" asked
the Justice-for it was he--of Robert, who had now
dried his tears, and confronted the policeman as
he made his complaint.
"I was in the store sir, but I hadn't touched
a thing there, or anywhere else. I only went to
ask my way, and I wanted to know how to get
back to the river."
"And where did you come from, my little
man?" His listener was evidently interested
in the frank straightforward answer he had re-
"From Albany, last night, Eddy and me."
From Albany ? and how came your father to
let two such children start off alone? Just
examine their bundle, Jenkins."
Encouraged by the kindly tone, it was but na-
tural for Robert to tell their simple history. Its
very childishness vouched for its truth, and its
trials created a feeling of pity, that they should
have been added to by this error. The Justice
had evidently wished to believe it-nay, in his
heart of hearts, he did not doubt an item of Ro-


bert's narrative, but experience had male him
cautious, and he only said-
"Well, Jenkins !" to the man, who now looked
up with a chagrined, disappointed air from his
"I don't find much, sir-only a parcel of
clothes that's seen pretty good service. But this
looks suspicious-a purse with ten dollars and
some silver."
"It was my mother's purse," Robert said
eagerly--" she always kept her money in it, and
the doctor gave it to me, with the pay for selling
the furniture."
"What was your mother's name?" was the
next inquiry.
"Mary Lewis, sir." `
The policeman held up the purse. It was
one of those so much in vogue a few years since,
of beads wrought upon canvas with a steel clasp-
and there were the initials in white letters, M. L.
Poor Mrs. Lewis! It was the only piece of
"fancy needlework" in which her busy fingers
were ever engaged, a relic of better days, which
she had cherished with care.
"This all looks right. I'm afraid your zeal



for theservice has carried you a little too far,
my man," Justice Drinker said, looking severely
at the now somewhat humbled officer; "these
boys," pointing to Robert, "ought to have help
rather than hindrance. As you've taken charge
of them, suppose you continue your supervision
as far as the Jersey City ferry. See that they
get on board, and tell them how they are to man-
age about the cars. Now send Allan in, I want
to speak with him."
As soon as the policeman had retired, the kind
man, stern though he sometimes seemed of neces-
sity, patted Eddy upon the head, and called Rob-
ert a "brave little fellow." But it was rather
unlucky for you," he said, that you lost your way
in such a bad neighborhood. Remember to keep
in the broad streets another time." And then
as Jenkins returned he delivered them to the care
of subordinates; and before Robert could thank
him he had returned to his writing, the pen mov-
ing with almost incredible velocity to make up for
lost time.
At first Robert would rather have dispensed
with the attendance of the crest-fallen Mr. Jen-
kins; but the man had a heart after all, only he


had seen so many tricks in young offenders, and
had heard so many well-arranged stories, that he
was slow to believe." Whether it was this heart
asserting its right to a voice, with feelings harden-
ed by a long course of similar occupation, or the
reprimand he had just. received, the policeman
was unusually gracious. Eddy resisted every
invitation to take his hand, however. He re-
membered the cruel gripe of those huge fingers,
and shrunk from a second encounter.
"Now, don't fight shy," Mr. Jenkins said,
appealingly, as it was indeed his earnest wish
to make amends. It was all along of that Dan'l
Jones. His eyes is too sharp altogether, and my
business is my business, you know. But I'm
sorry for it-and you'd better just let me carry
that bundle. Somebody might snatch at it."
Robert did not like to give up his property,
but he was forgiving as well as unsuspicious, and
the man in his rude way certainly seemed peni-
tent. He proved it, moreover, by taking them to
a cheap eating-house, when he found they had
eaten nothing for many hours, and calling for
meat and potatoes and plenty of bread. They
made a famous dinner, which he paid for from his



own purse, and telling them good-naturedly to
make the most of it, and eat heartily, for they
wouldn't have such a dinner given to them every
day. He did not seem at all like the same man,
that Eddy had called "naughty and wicked" an
hour before. Nor did the streets seem the same
as they came out once more. Every thing had
taken a new aspect, for fear and dread had given
place to a light-heartedness Robert had not felt
since before his mother's death.



ROBERT thought that the wharf looked natural,
and found, much to his amazement, it was next to
the one at which they had that morning landed.
The man had evidently misdirected them, or per-
haps had not understood their inquiry. But there
was no time for regret-the ferry-boat was just
ready to push off, and swinging'Eddy across the
narrow gulf, every instant widening, Mr. Jenkins
bade them take care of the tickets he had just
procured, and-took his leave.
They followed the motley crowd of men, wo-
men and babies, into the depot, when they reach-
ed the Jersey shore, and in a very few minutes
were snugly seated in the cars, and flying along
towards Philadelphia. There was very little in-
cident between the two cities. No one but the
conductor spoke to them, and he only asked to see
their tickets, looked at them sharply and passed



on. But they made the acquaintance of a rough
sailor-looking man, from beneath whose feet
Robert rescued the beloved bundle, just as they
were leaving the cars, and he very good-naturedly
directed them to a little lodging house, where for a
shilling,-a "levy" the man called it,-they were
allowed a bed and their breakfast.
The stranger's forethought saved them a
great deal of annoyance, for it was late in the
evening when they arrived, and Robert was look-
ing with dismay at the long row of shining lights,
knowing that he must soon set foot in a strange
city to seek for shelter.
The man at Ithe lodgings could not give them
any information about their future course; and the
doctor in his general directions had omitted to tell
them the name of their next stopping-place. But
this seemed a trifling disadvantage to Robert,
whose courage had all returned with the comfort-
able sleep in a comparatively good bed, and a
thorough wash, which he enjoyed quite as much
as his breakfast. Cleanliness was the first in
Mary Lewis's list of household virtues, and, by
Robert's care, the two looked almost as tidy as Ibe
would have made them, when they once more set
forth hnnd in hand.


It was rather discouraging at first. "There
was no Pittsburgh railroad, or boat"-they were
told, and opinions seemed divided as to what route
they had better take. But at last they came to
a very broad street, with a railroad track pass-
ing through it, and espied a depot not far from
SI'll go in and ask here, Eddy," Robert said,
"some of the men will tell us."
Now it so happened that the man of whom he
inquired was very busy loading a car with iron,
and he did not stop as he answered quickly to
Robert's question-
All right, my little man-we leave for Potts-
ville in less than no time."
"But will that be where we want to go ?" the
boy said again.
Why, of course, if you know your own busi-
ness-you'd better jump aboard pretty quick; out
of the way, there !"-and a great ringing bar of
iron came hurtling over their heads into the freight
"Isn't it lucky, Eddy-we hit it the very first
thing." Robert felt very brave as he walked up
to the ticket office, and asked what was the fare to



Pottsville. And then after they were safely in
the cars, and the whistle had shrieked its long
warning note, and they were off, out of the city
and away among the green fields, he could not for-
bear recounting all their adventures with a great
deal of satisfaction, and drew bright pictures for
the future.
"Don't you think we've got along bravely,
Eddy ? And it wasn't so much matter about Mr.
Jenkins. He was so good after all."
Only he scolded you first so, Robby. If I
only had been a man-gracious, if I wouldn't have
knocked him down !"
It was a large speech for a little fellow to
make, and Robert reproved him with all the
gravity of older years and longer experience, for
using bad words, and indulging such a belligerent
But 'gracious' isn't a bad word. Mrs.
Brown used to say 'my gracious,' and 'good gra-
cious," too. "I never heard Mrs. Brown swear,"
persisted Eddy.
You never heard mother say so, though-
and I guess you wouldn't have said it before her,


Eddy knew that very well. Mother wouldn't
like it"-was a touchstone to all their words and
actions; and I have a fancy that if all children
would make this a rule there would be far less
rudeness and coarseness in their play and conver-
Ssation. They seem to think it manly to slip out
words when they are together, that they would
blush to have their parents hear.
"But I didn't like Mr. Jones at all from the
first, or Daniel either."
And DanieFs such an ugly name"-suggest-
ed Eddy.
Wouldn't you like to see Dr. Cook again, and
Mrs. Prown"-
And Winny, but John said we'd have to go
to the poor-house. I don't like John! He made
a slip-knot once, and pulled it so tight around my
foot, and don't you remember he tore my kite ?"
But mother mended it, and said we must re-
turn good for evil." And this suggested a long
reverie to Robert, as that conversation with his
mother came back to his recollection, and he be-
gan to wonder why God, who was so good and
kind, had taken away their mother and left them
alone. "The Uses of Adversity," was a study


which he had just commenced, and one whose
kindest teachings seem most like unkindness.
Then the boy wondered to find himself so much
older in the past few days. But it did not seem
like a few days, now, to look back upon their
events. It was as if whole weeks had intervened,
and even his mother's face rose dim and indistinct,
except as he had last seen her; but that he could
got bear to dwell upon, for the first feeling of
agony returned with a pang like real physical
So he drove the recollection from his thoughts,
and in place of that ghastly vision, came a sweet
child's face. It was Lily's, just as she had looked
up into his eyes, as she said poor little boy."
Mrs. Brown had been kind, and Dr. Cook had
tried to comfort him, but the sympathy of a child's
heart had been the first to touch his own deeply.
So the day went on, Eddy asking a thousand
curious questions, as a bright lad naturally would
when every thing was so new and strange. When
they came to a long curve, and could see the loco-
motive sweeping ahead, and the long train of cars
crawling after it like a gigantic serpent, he would
clap his hands in delight at the deep fiery breath-


ings of the iron steed; but as the down train
passed them thundering along, almost with the ra-
pidity of lightning, he actually turned pale with
a momentary fear, and, as was his custom at such
moments, clung to Robert, as if nothing could
harm him under that dear brother's protection.
It was a lesson to many children we have seen,
the perfect trust and confidence of the one, and
the loving protection of the other. No quarrel-
ling, no fretfulness; for Robert would almost have
given life itself for Eddy's safety, and Eddy's
sunny temper kept alive the hopes and the resolu-
tions that had been formed at first for his sake.
We have known many a boy, manly in all other
things, who would consider it a great sacrifice to
give up even a favorite plaything, because it was
his own. Robert scarcely knew the feeling, for
from his earliest recollection Eddy had been the
pet and darling of all. '
The crackers of yesterday made a capital
lunch, so they were not in the least hungry or
weary when they arrived at the place of their des-
tination. It was a long, scattered town or village,
and as they had no luggage to encumber them,
they soon commenced exploring it. But they had



not gone far before Robert recollected that he had
better inquire first how they were to proceed, and
he found a man lolling by the hotel or tavern with
his hands in his pockets, as if he had nothing to
do but answer questions.
"To Pittsburgh, indeed !" and he broke into a
laugh that half frightened Robert; it reminded
him of Mr. Jones, the grocer. Why, you're on
the wrong track, entirely. If you want to go to
Pittsburgh, you'd better start back the way you
came. What on earth sent you up here to these
coal diggings ?"
It was only too true. And a bystander ex-
plained that they should have taken the Harris-
burgh cars instead of the Pottsville train. Both
were towards the interior of the State, but so far
as getting on to Pittsburgh was concerned, they
might as well be in Philadelphia.
There's a train starts right off," said the first
speaker, and if you don't want to lose time you'd
better go back in it."
It was the first real disappointment, and Rob-
ert's elation gave way for a moment. If he had
not been ashamed he could have cried before
them all; for besides the loss of time, and having


to go the route over again, two dollars was no trifle
for them to lose out of their small fund. But
Robert gulped down the tears, and walked away
to the depot without speaking, for fear his un-
steadiness of voice should discover his trouble to
Eddy, who, as usual, was content to do just as
Robert said.
The depot was full of people hanging about.
Men packing the baggage car, close by the side
of the locomotive that stood there with its burn-
ished face hissing and foaming, as if it was impa-
tient to be gone on its rapid journey. The boys
sat down upon the first seat that offered itself, and
Robert leaned' his head upon his hand, the very
picture of despondency.
Here, you young rascal-get off that trunk !"
was the first word addressed to him by a porter
who came to look after some baggage that had
been placed in his care.
There's no use in getting into a fever, Jacob,
this hot day," interposed a pleasant voice, "I
don't suppose the boys have hurt the trunk."
Robert looked up gratefully. The speaker
was a tall benevolent-looking man, with kindly
eyes, and though already gray-haired, his step


had all the firmness of youth. He patted Eddy's
curls, with his ungloved hand, which was soft and
beautifully formed ; and the child looked up with a
bright smile, for he knew he had found a friend.
"That's a fine fellow !" said he, still smiling,
"and this is your brother, I suppose. Waiting
for your father, eh ?" For he supposed, from the
coarse clothes and the bundle which they carried,
that they belonged to some emigrants just arrived,
to seek for work in the %coal mines, which make
Pottsville such an important inland town.
No, sir, we are all alone;" Robert said. "I
hope you have not run away !" and the gentleman
tried to look severe; but he did not succeed very
well, for it was not at all a natural expression to
his face.
Oh, no !" and the quick flush mounted to
Robert's face, at suspicion. "Indeed, sir, we are
going to find my father."
"I hope he doesn't live very far off. You
don't look as if you were much used to travelling.
But there goes that whistle, and I shall lose my
place; have you got your tickets ?"
Robert had not thought of them.
"Well, never mind, jump in, and I'll talk to


the conductor; though it's the best plan to attend
to all these things before you start."
"' Be sure you're right-then go ahead,' as my
boys say," he continued, as they were seated, the
boys in front of him, for he had lifted Eddy up
himself. "It's a good principle."
Robert smiled a little. "I think so, too, sir;
and if I had done so, we shouldn't have been here
"I thought so. I thought there was a story
about it, somehow. Come, tell me all about it;"
and, encouraged by his kindly manner, Robert
poured out all his troubles to his new acquaint-
ance. The gentleman listened with great atten-
tion, and Robert thought he saw a tear twinkle in
his eyes, as he described his mother's sudden
death and their loneliness. Perhaps he was mis-
taken about this, for gentlemen who have lived to'
see the storms and calms of sixty years, very rare-
ly have tears to bestow upon every sorrow. But
certain it is that his handkerchief came into use
divers times, and once he looked very hard at the
sky out of the narrow window.
A good lesson to you," said he, as Robert
ended with their unlucky mistake. "But such



studies are not always as pleasant or easy as
geography with the use of the globes, are they?
However, it all helps to make men of you, and
some good will come of it I dare say. I don't like
to promise y6ung people; I don't think it's best,
generally speaking; but I must say I think you've
done right not to go to the alms-house as long as
you could keep out of it. There's no disgrace in
the thing itself when you cannot help it, and
Providence seems to shut all other doors on you.
But the world's a large place, and there's many
other ways for young people to get a living. I
worked hard myself when I was a boy."
You never would have thought so from that
small white hand, which now held Eddy's in a
kindly clasp.
"Yes, my mother taught me-I know what a
*blessing a good mother is-a little sentence I have
never forgotten:
'Act well your part-
There all the honor lies.'

But whatever is our duty in life we must do it
thoroughly. Boys nowadays-rich men's sons
at any rate-are brought up to think that they are


to do nothing-not even think for themselves,
until they are men grown. They must go to
school-and go to college-all very well to be
sure; education is a great thing; but while they
depend on books alone they will never be edu-
Perhaps I'm going a little too deep for you
though," he added, seeing Eddy's eyes wandering
about the car, although Robert drank in every
word eagerly. "I like what you tell me about
your mother. She was a good woman, I don't
doubt it; and there's ipo blessing, as I said before,
like a good mother. Why ev6inow--and it's years
and years since my mother died in my arms,
never a day goes by that I don't think of her, and
when I have done right it seems to me she knows
and approves of it-and this thought has helped
me out of many a trouble and temptation. Now
your father,"-
And here Eddy, too, had something to telL
How there was nobody in the world so good as
father, or made such capital tops, or told pu4ch
grand stories about lions and tigers. And Robert
added that once he had set him a copy, just before
he went away-" Honesty and Industry"--and



another that he liked to write better still, because
it sounded like poetry-" There's no such word
as fail."
"And I thought of that," said the boy, when
Dr. Cook first tried to make me think I could
never find father, and I said it to myself just as
you came along."
I wish you would tell me your name," Eddy
rather unceremoniously interrupted;" I don't like
to say sir all the time."
The gentlemanlaughed good-naturedly, "Hall,"
said he, that's my name. I sometimes sign it,
"your obedient servant, Thomas HalL" But if
I was writing to you, now, I should say your
Robert understood the kindness, that this
gave him a right to think of Mr. Hall as a friend
-he had felt that he was, from the first. Few
such friends as Dr. Cook and Mr. Hall in one
week! but honesty and courage always raise
But what are you going to do now?" Mr.
Hall asked presently. "If I had only known this
before we started, I could have sent you over to
Harrisburgh, without half the trouble. As it is,


I think I had better attend to our friend the con-
ductor, with 'show your tickets, gentlemen'-a
call I get very well accustomed to."
The conductor, with tickets in one hand, and
bank notes thrust through the fingers of the other,
was very polite to Mr. Hall, who seemed to be a
person of some consequence in his eyes. Robert
took out his mother's little purse, but Mr. Hall's
porte-monnaie was already open, and when he had
shown his own ticket, he put two bright gold dol-
lars into the conductor's hand, and pointed to the
Put up your purse my little fellow," he said,
as the conductor passed on. You will want all
that's in it, and more too, before you come to your
journey's end. Have you thought what you should
do when it gives out ?"
No, sir-but Dr. Cook was so good to me,
and you are so good, we shall get along I am sure.
Don't you think God sent you to me to speak so
kindly and help us along ? And He will take care
of us, I know-I always think so when I lie down
to sleep every night.
A shade passed over Mr. Hall's face as the
boy spoke his simple, earnest faith. He was not



the only one who can feel the pathos of the
"But now, 'tis little joy-
To know I'm farther off from heaven
Than when I was a boy."

Manhood's trust has been tried to the very core;
it has been buffeted by doubts and weakened by
temptation, but the pure, earnest heart of the
child says, without question or without fear-" 6ur
Father who art in heaven ?"
"You are right to put confidence in
friends, my lad," Mr. Hall said-" and above all in
our best friend, our Creator. Still He has
placed us here to act for ourselves, and it will not do
to depend too much on proffered kindness. There's
many a man been ruined by sitting still for his
friends to help him. But I know you will look
out for yourself as long as you can, and I do not
fear but.you will succeed. "There's no such word
as fail"-that's an excellent motto, and you'll find
one in Proverbs better still-" In all thy ways
acknowledge Him, and He will direct thy paths."
It will last you through the journey of life, that is,
if your "ways" are right and just. Make it a


first principle, never to do any thing that you know
to be wrong, even in the greatest strait of doubt
and darkness. That will be acknowledging Him,
who is justice itself."
Are you going to Philadelphia, sir ?" asked
Eddy, who was restless enough whenever he did
not exactly understand what Mr. Hall was saying,
an I whose questions sometimes came rather mal
No, I'm only going as far as Reading to-night. I
wish for your sakes I was going home. I should
like to see you well started in the right direction;
but let me see how I can manage it for you."
He sat as' if thinking a moment, and then
taking out a pencil, he wrote something on the
back of a letter, and gave it to Robert. If you
can make out that direction to-morrow, you'll find
some more friends in Locust-street; and mind
you tellthem that I said so. Anid I would advise you
after this to take a second-class car; you caq
travel cheaper, and you must begin to learn ec6-
omy, as well as honesty and industry. With the
three, any man, by God's blessing, will succeed in
the world."
Robert placed the slip of paper in his bundle



without looking at it, and felt as if he could never
be grateful enough to Mr. Hall. Indeed, he told
him so-but Mr. Hall did not seem to wish any
thanks, but began to amuse Eddy with stories of
his travels. He had been in' England, and France,
and Russia, even, and had seen many wonderful
things. "The boys were both so deeply interested,
that it did not seem a quarter of an hour before
they reached Reading. Here their pleasant com-
panion left them with a hearty shake of the hand;
-but he came back to the car window, and said
to Eddy, as if it had been the greatest secret in
the world-
Be good--and you'll be happy."



THE boys had been so interested in Mr. HalPs
conversation, that they had not noticed any other
of the passengers; but the train had scarcely
moved on again before the man who had been
lounging on the hotel steps came in behind the
conductor, slamming the door, and sat down very
near them. Robert did not like his appearance at
all. He was dressed in a short sack coat with
immense buttons, his hat was set very much on
one side, and he had a showy gold chain displayed
over his satin vest with seals, and a huge key.
There was a strong odor of cigar smoke about
him, and he talked in a loud important voife to
the man next him, about Reading stock" and
"Pottsville coal." You would have thought he
owned a whole mine at least.
But he did not seem to notice the boys at all,
and presently Robert began to make calculations



about their means, and how to make the most of
what was remaining. He took out the purse, and
found that though ten dollars had seemed a "for-
tune at first, it melted away very rapidly. There
was a dollar and a half for each of them from New-
York, two dollars to Pottsville-just half of
their little fund-and though he did not know the
exact distance to Pittsburgh, he had an idea that
it was much further than they had already trav-
elled. A quarter of a dollar in change would buy
them two more meals, but altogether the prospect
was not very cheering. "However," thought
Robert, we will go as far as it will take us, and we.
have got feet and will walk the rest of the way,"
he added aloud, "can't we, Eddy ?" As he looked
up he saw the man with the jaunty hat, who had
now finished his conversation, staring very closely
at them; and though he tuted his head away
directly, he soon came over and took Mr. Hall's
vacant seat.
"Do you know who that was you were talking
with just now ?" said he, curiously.
"Mr. Hall," was Eddy's prompt reply. "And
where did you get acquainted with him? Ain't
a relation, is he ?"


"No, but he's a friend," Robert answered,
firmly. Yet for all that, he could not help wish-
ing the man would take his eyes from his face.
His bold, searching stare, made him very uncom-
Well, I'll tell you more than that. He owns
half of Pottsville, and sends more coal to Phila-
delphia every year, than any one about. He
could give you a hundred dollars right out and
nevei feel it: S'pose he did remember you in
parting, didn't he ? Something pretty handsome!
eh ?"
Robert hardly knew what to answer. It
seemed very rude and impertinent to question
them, but perhaps it was not intended so.
"An eagle perhaps," said the man again,
eyeing Robert's bundle, "or perhaps a couple of
He didn't give Robby any thing but a little
piece of paper," Eddy answered.
Oh, an order then, or perhaps a check. S'pose
you show it to me."
"I haven't looked at it myself," Robert said
Oh, come now, don't be so uppish; I thought


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