But I will be back to six
o'clock dinner. Good-bye!" He kissed his wife tenderly, and she clung
to him sobbing. Then he kissed his daughters, a thing he had not done
since they were babies, and shook hands with the boys, and marched out
like one going to execution, something bright glistening in his own
eyes.

Ah! ye fathers and husbands, you who are toiling for the dear ones at
home, how many of you have grown so unaccustomed to the tender
affections of home that your own wife would almost faint and think
something was going to happen to you if you kissed her good-bye when
you went away to your work in the morning! How do you know that she
who has been your faithful friend and lover all these years, and nursed
you through peevish sickness and done a thousand things every day for
you without so much as a word of thanks or praise on your part--how do
you know she does not care for these demonstrations of affection? And
if she does not, how does it happen except through neglect? Call it
not a little thing. It is of such little things that heaven is made,
and it is of the home where such little things are found that it can
truly be said, "Love is master, and the Evil One cannot find an
entrance to blot with his foul tread the sweetest thing on earth."

Mr. Hardy hurried down towards the tenement where Ward Scoville lived,
revolving in his mind as he went along plans for his future happiness
and comfort.

"I'll deed him the place where he lives, and arrange it in some way so
that he won't have to go to the hospital, or come on the county when
his poor wife is gone. It will be the best I can do for him. Poor
fellow! What a shame I did not come down last night! And his wife a
hopeless invalid and the oldest child only four years old, Mary said!"

He was surprised, as he drew near the house, to see a group of men
standing there outside and talking together earnestly. As Mr. Hardy
came up they stood aside to let him pass, but were barely civil.

"Well, Stevens," Mr. Hardy inquired of one of the men, recognising him
as one of the employes in the casting room, "how is Scoville this
morning?"

"Dead!"

Mr. Hardy reeled as if struck in the breast with a heavy blow.

"Dead, did you say?"

"He died about an hour ago," said one of the other men. "The surgeon
was late in getting around, and after the amputation it was ascertained
that Scoville had received severe internal injuries."

"Was he conscious?" Mr. Ha