s approach, and enter the
cheerless abode of the man who, to feed an evil and debasing appetite,
could heartlessly turn away from his faithful wife and dependent little
ones, and leave them to the keenest suffering.

New Year's day, to which the farmer's wife and children were looking
forward with so much delight, was but little more than a week off, and
Mrs. Foster expected her husband home also. But with what different
feelings did she anticipate his arrival! He never brought a glad
welcome with his presence; although his wife, when he was absent,
always looked for and desired his return. He had been away over three
months; and was earning twenty dollars a month. But, he had only sent
home eighteen dollars during the whole time. This, we need hardly say,
was far from enough to meet the wants of his family. Had it not been
that George, who was but eleven years old, went every day to a factory
in the village and worked from morning until night, thus earning about
a dollar and a half a week, and that the mother took in sewing,
spinning, washing and ironing, and whatever she could get to do, they
must have wanted even enough to eat.

It was but six days to New Year's. Mrs. Foster had been washing nearly
the whole day,--work that she was really not able to do, and which
always so tired her out, that in the night following she could not
sleep from excessive fatigue,--she had been washing nearly all day, and
now, after cleaning up the floor, and putting the confused room into a
little order, she sat down to finish some work promised by the next
morning. It was nearly dark, and she was standing, with her sewing,
close up to the window, in order to see more distinctly in the fading
light, when there came a loud knock at the door. One of the children
opened it, and a man, whose face she knew too well, came in. He was the
owner of the poor tenement in which they lived.

"Have you heard from Foster since I was here last?" said the man, with
an unpleasant abruptness of manner.

"No sir, I have not," replied Mrs. Foster, in a low, timid voice, for
she felt afraid of the man.

"When do you expect him home?"

"He will be here at New Year's."

"Humph! Do you know whether he will bring any money?"

"I am sure I cannot tell; but I hope so."

"He'd better;"--the man spoke in a menacing tone--"for I don't intend
waiting any longer for my rent."

No reply was made to this.

"Will you tell your husband, when he returns, my goo