l that both could
earn.

The next morning Paul started out after breakfast for the street stand,
wondering what success he was destined to meet with.

About the middle of the forenoon Mrs. Hoffman prepared to go out.

"Do you think you can stay alone for an hour or two, Jimmy?" she asked.

"Yes, mother," answered Jimmy, who was deep in a picture which he was
copying from one of the drawing-books Paul had bought him. "Where are
you going mother?"

"To carry back some work, Jimmy. I have got half-a-dozen shirts done,
and must return them, and ask for more."

"They ought to pay you more than twenty-five cents apiece, mother. How
long has it taken you to make them?"

"Nearly a week."

"That is only a dollar and a half for a week's work."

"I know it, Jimmy; but they can get plenty to work at that price, so it
won't do for me to complain. I shall be very glad if I can get steady
work, even at that price."

Jimmy said no more, and Mrs. Hoffman, gathering up her bundle, went out.

She had a little more than half a mile to go. This did not require long.
She entered the large door, and advanced to the counter behind which
stood a clerk with a pen behind his ear.

"How many?" he said, as she laid the bundle upon the counter.

"Six."

"Name?"

"Hoffman."

"Correct. I will look at them."

He opened the bundle hastily, and surveyed the work critically. Luckily
there was no fault to find, for Mrs. Hoffman was a skillful seamstress.

"They will do," he said, and, taking from a drawer the stipulated sum,
paid for them.

"Can I have some more?" asked Mrs. Hoffman, anxiously.

"Not to-day. We're overstocked with goods made up. We must contract our
manufacture."

This was unexpected, and carried dismay to the heart of the poor woman.
What she could earn was very little but it was important to her.

"When do you think you can give me some more work?" she asked.

"It may be a month or six weeks," he answered, carelessly.

A month or six weeks! To have her supply of work cut off for so long a
time would, indeed, be a dire misfortune. But there was nothing to say.
Mrs. Hoffman knew very well that no one in the establishment cared for
her necessities. So, with a heavy heart, she started for home, making up
her mind to look elsewhere for work in the afternoon. She could not help
recalling, with sorrow, the time when her husband was living, and they
lived in a pleasant little home, before the shadow of bereavement