, his hands pressed
together, and his head sunk upon his breast. For a long time he had not
spoken. He was a feeble man, who had not succeeded well in the business
of life; his great fault being that he always relied too much upon
others, and not enough upon himself. The result was, that his wife had
become more the head of the family than he was, and every important
question of this kind, as Frank well knew, was referred to her for
decision.

"O, I don't know, I don't know, my son," Mr. Manly groaned; and,
uncrossing his legs, he crossed them again in another posture. "I have
said all I can; now you must talk with your mother."

"There, mother," said Frank, who had got the answer he expected, and now
proceeded to make good use of it; "father is willing, you see. All I want
now is for you to say yes. I must go and enlist to-morrow, if I mean to
get into the same company with the other boys; and I'm sure you'd rather
I'd go with the fellows I know, than with strangers. We are going to
befriend each other, and stand by each other to the last."

"Some of them, I am afraid, are not such persons as I would wish to have
you on very intimate terms with, any where, my child," answered Mrs.
Manly; "for there is one danger I should dread for you worse than the
chances of the battle-field."

"What's that?"

"That you might be led away by bad company. To have you become corrupted
by their evil influences--to know that my boy was no longer the pure,
truthful child he was; that he would blush to have his sisters know his
habits and companions; to see him come home, if he ever does, reckless
and dissipated--O, I could endure any thing, even his death, better than
that."

"Well," exclaimed Frank, filled with pain, almost with indignation, at
the thought of any one, especially his mother, suspecting him of such
baseness, "there's one thing--you shall hear of my death, before you hear
of my drinking, or gambling, or swearing, or any thing of that kind. I
promise you that."

"Where is your Testament, my son?" asked his mother.

"Here it is."

"Have you a pencil?"

"He may take mine," said Hattie.

"Now write on this blank leaf what you have just promised."

Mrs. Manly spoke with a solemn and tender earnestness which made Frank
tremble, as he obeyed; for he felt now that her consent was certain, and
that the words he was writing were a sacred pledge.

"Now read what you have written, so that we can all hear what you
promi