en
in the city. To the young people all this was new and wonderful, for up
to the present they had been little to the theater.

In the meantime Giusippe was also having his struggles. It was a
rushing season at the factory, there being many large orders to fill;
the mill hummed night and day and in consequence the scores of
glass-makers looked happy and prosperous. No one was out of employment
or on half pay, and none of the workmen dreaded Christmas because there
was nothing to put in the kiddies' stockings.

With Christmas came Uncle Bob and oh, what a holiday there was then!
Was ever a Christmas tree so beautiful, or a Christmas dinner so
delicious? Giusippe brought his aunt and uncle to the great house, and
in the evening there was a dance for Jean and some of her school
friends. Uncle Bob, who was in the gayest of spirits, danced with all
the girls; introduced everybody to everybody; and brought heaping
plates of salad to the dancers. There seemed to be nothing he could not
do from putting up Christmas greens to playing the piano until the
belated musicians arrived. The party could never had been given without
him, that was certain. It was a Christmas long to be remembered!

And when he left the next morning it was with the understanding that
Jean should return to Boston the first of May. Uncle Tom looked pretty
grave when he was reminded that the days of his niece's stay with him
were numbered; and it was amusing to hear him use the very arguments
that Uncle Bob had voiced when Jean had left Boston for Pittsburgh
months before.

"It isn't as if the child was never coming back," he told Giusippe.
"Her home is here; she is only going to Boston for her vacation. We
should be selfish indeed to grudge her a few weeks at the seashore.
Pittsburgh is rather warm in summer."

Thus Uncle Tom consoled himself, and as the days flew past tried to put
out of his mind the inevitable day of parting.

Then came May and with it a very unexpected happening. Jean's trunk was
packed, and she was all ready to leave for the East, when Uncle Tom was
taken sick.

"I doubt if it is anything but overwork and fatigue," said the doctor.
"Mr. Curtis has, I find, been carrying a great deal of care this
winter. It is good to do a rushing business, of course, but when one
has to rush along with it the wear and tear on the nerves is pretty
severe."

"You don't think he will be ill long, do you?" questioned Jean
anxiously.

"I cannot t