by
the quarter, and a cask of beer at Christmas."

"I will give them a sovereign by the year," said Roger Hall, "and half a
bale of cloth from the works, that Master suffers me to buy at cost
price."

"I can't do so much as you," said Eleanor White, the ironmonger's widow;
"but I'll give Collet the worth of an angel in goods by the year, and
the produce of one of the pear-trees in my garden."

"I can't do much neither," added Emmet Wilson's husband, the baker; "but
I'll give them a penn'orth of bread by the week, and a peck of meal at
Easter."

"And I'll chop all the wood they burn," said his quiet, studious son
Titus, "and learn the lads to read."

"Why, Titus, you are offering the most of us all in time and labour!"
exclaimed Roger Hall.

"You've got your work cut and measured, Titus Wilson," snapped Tabitha.
"If one of them lads'll bide quiet while you can drum ABC into his head
that it'll tarry there a week, 'tis more than I dare look for, I can
tell you."

"There's no telling what you can do without you try," was the pithy
answer of Titus.

"I've been marvelling what I could do," said John Banks modestly, "and I
was a bit beat out of heart by your sovereigns and nobles; for I
couldn't scarce make up a crown by the year. But Titus has showed me
the way. I'll learn one of the lads my trade, if Collet 'll agree."

"Well, then, that is all we can do, it seems--" began Roger, but he was
stopped by a plaintive voice from the couch.

"Mightn't I do something, Father? I haven't only a sixpence in money;
but couldn't I learn Beatrice to embroider, if her mother would spare
her?"

"My dear heart, it were to try thy strength too much, I fear," said
Roger tenderly.

"But you're all doing something," said Christie earnestly, "and wasn't
our blessed Lord weary when He sat on the well? I might give Him a
little weariness, mightn't I--when I've got nothing better?"

To the surprise of everybody, Thomas had replied.

"We're not doing much, measured by that ell-wand," said the silent man;
"but Titus and Banks and Christie, they're doing the most."

Poor Collet Pardue broke down in a confused mixture of thanks and tears,
when she heard the propositions of her friends. She was gratefully
willing to accept all the offers. Three of her boys were already
employed at the cloth-works; one of the younger trio should go to Banks
to be brought up a mason. Which would he choose?

Banks looked at the three lads offe