'll go and tell Will's mother, and, say, fellers,
shan't I tell her we will give our banquet money to help her out at
Christmas?"

A hearty "You bet we will," was the response, as big Tom sped away to
carry the news to Will's mother, while kind hands helped carry the
injured boy to his home. It was a poor home into which he was borne,
but everything was as neat and tidy as could be. A woman stood at the
door, and it needed but one glance to know that she was the mother of
Will. Poverty and hunger had failed to rob her of her beauty, and there
was an air of refinement about her that told of better days and happier
surroundings.

"Christmas hasn't come yet, mother," said Will, "but I have. Don't you
worry; I'll come out of this all right, and we will have a good
Christmas yet."

The mother kissed him tenderly as she said, "No, I will not worry, so
long as I have God, and you, and Josie, and Maggie, and Tot. When
Christmas comes round, Will, it will be a good day whatever it brings."

"It will bring yer heaps of things, Mrs. Sandford," blurted out big Tom,
"for we fellers has given up havin' a banquet, and are going to bring
yer something that Will can't bring now. Don't yer worry a bit," and
here the rough fellow burst into tears, and rushed out of the house.

A few more days, and then Christmas Eve came round, and a bright night
it was. Will lay sleeping on the bed, his mother near by, pretending to
read, but in reality using the dear old Bible as a shield to hide the
tears that trickled down her cheeks. The mother was thinking, and
thinking fast, too. It was only a little over thirteen years since her
father had closed the door in her face and told her never to return. The
man she loved was not the fashionable fop her father had selected for
her as a husband, and secretly she had given her hand to the man to whom
long before she had given her heart. All went well, until three years
ago, when her husband died suddenly, and she found herself with no means
and four children to take care of. Too proud to apply to her father for
help, she struggled on as best she could, leaning hard on the God whom
her mother had taught her to love.

Her children were a comfort to her, for they had inherited the natural
goodness of both their parents. Her tears now fell fast, for as she
thought, she also listened to the voices of her two youngest children
who were standing over by the window together.

"Say, Maggie, does yer see dat