she still possessed a home for herself and children.  My mother possessed much energy of mind, as well as a cheerful, hopeful disposition, and, although she sorrowed deeply for her sad loss, she did not yield to despondency; but endeavored to discharge faithfully her duty to her children, and to this end she sought employment, and toiled early and late that she might provide for our wants, and so far did Providence smile upon her efforts that we were enabled to live in comfort and respectability.  By close industry and economy she kept me at school from the age of six to thirteen, and would willingly have allowed me to remain longer, as she considered my education of the first importance, but during the last year I remained at school (although only a child of twelve years) I grew discontented and unhappy, by seeing my mother toiling daily that I might remain at school.  And many a night did I lay awake for hours, revolving the question in my mind of how I could assist my mother, for I felt that, young as I was, it was time for me to do something for my own support.  Had circumstances allowed, I would gladly have remained at school, for I was fond of study; but I believe I inherited a portion of my mother’s energetic disposition, and I felt it my duty to leave school, and seek some employment whereby I might support myself, and possibly assist, in a small way, my mother and little sister.  My mother was reluctant to yield her consent that I should leave school, but when she saw how much my mind was set on it, and knowing the motives which influenced me, she finally gave her consent, and leaving school I began looking about me for employment.  My mother’s wish, as well as my own was that I should, if possible, obtain some situation in the village where I could still board at home, but, as is usually the case, no one needed a boy at that time.  After spending several days in search of work, without success, I became disheartened.  My mother advised me to return to my books, and think no more about it; but I was unwilling that my first attempt toward taking care of myself should prove an entire failure.

CHAPTER III.

A few miles from the village of Elmwood lived Mr. Judson, a rich farmer, he might properly be termed rich in this world’s goods, for, besides the broad acres which comprised the two farms in one where he resided, he was the owner of several houses in the village, which brought him a handsome annual income.  The chief aim of his life appeared to be the acquisition of money, and, when once it came into his possession, it was guarded with miserly care.  The very countenance and manner of the Farmer bespoke his nature.  Aided by memory, I see him now as I saw him years ago:—­he was of medium height, strong and muscular, but thin in flesh.  His hair had once been black, but was then sprinkled thickly with gray; he had small piercing, restless black eyes that seemed to look several ways at once.  His nose was of