en he arrived in the night. We were waked by hearing the bell.
Mother flew down, crying "My husband!" We rushed after, and five white
figures embraced the half-frozen wanderer who came in hungry, tired,
cold, and disappointed, but smiling bravely and as serene as ever. We
fed and warmed and brooded over him, longing to ask if he had made any
money; but no one did till little May said, after he had told all the
pleasant things, "Well, did people pay you?" Then, with a queer look,
he opened his pocketbook and showed one dollar, saying with a smile
that made our eyes fill, "Only that! My overcoat was stolen, and I had
to buy a shawl. Many promises were not kept, and travelling is costly;
but I have opened the way, and another year shall do better."

I shall never forget how beautifully mother answered him, though the
dear, hopeful soul had built much on his success; but with a beaming
face she kissed him, saying, "I call that doing _very well_. Since you
are safely home, dear, we don't ask anything more."

Anna and I choked down our tears, and took a little lesson in real
love, which we never forgot, nor the look that the tired man and the
tender woman gave one another. It was half tragic and comic, for
father was very dirty and sleepy, and mother in a big nightcap and
funny old jacket.

[I began to see the strong contrasts and the fun and follies in
every-day life about this time--L. M. A.]

Anna came home in March. Kept our school all summer. I got "Flower
Fables" ready to print.

Louisa also tried service with a relative in the country for a short
time, but teaching, sewing, and writing were her principal occupations
during this residence in Boston.

These seven years, from Louisa's sixteenth to her twenty-third year,
might be called an apprenticeship to life. She tried various paths,
and learned to know herself and the world about her, although she was
not even yet certain of success in the way which finally opened before
her and led her so successfully to the accomplishment of her
life-purpose. She tried teaching, without satisfaction to herself or
perhaps to others. The kind of education she had herself received
fitted her admirably to understand and influence children, but not to
carry on the routine of a school. Sewing was her resource when nothing
else offered, but it is almost pitiful to think of her as confined to
such work when great powers were lying dormant in her mind. Still
Margaret Fu