ves I used to have. I'm all broken up, my boy. But you're dead
right--dead right. I say so, and I think so. You're to go to
boarding-school. That's good. They won't teach _you_ any evil."

He did not offer his hand, and the boy was glad.

"Well, good-by," he said uneasily, reached the door, turned, and came
back a little way. "Wish you good luck," he said.

Blizzard lowered his formidable head almost reverently. "Thank you," he
said.

Poor Bubbles, he began to whistle before he was out of the building; it
wasn't from heartlessness, it was from pure discomfort and remorse.
Anyway, his father heard the shrill piping--and he sat and looked
straight ahead of him, and his face was as that of Satan fallen--fallen,
and hell fires licked into the marrow of his bones.

So Rose found him, and flung herself upon his breast with a cry of
yearning, and his heavy sorrowed head nestled closer and closer to hers,
and he burst suddenly into a great storm of weeping.

L

But the legless man was not one who easily or often gave way to grief.
He retained all of that will-power which had made him so potent for
evil, and he used it now to force cheerfulness out of discouragement and
sorrow. Just what he proposed to do with his life is difficult to
expose, for his plans kept changing, as almost all plans do, in the
working out.

His remodelled factory will serve for an example. It began as a place in
which the East Side maiden could earn enough money to keep body and soul
together without scotching either. Still keeping to this idea, Blizzard
kept brightening conditions, and letting in light--figuratively and
actually. And he proved that short hours, high pay, and worth-while
profits may be made to keep company. It all depends on how much
willingness and efficiency are crowded into the short hours. Employment
in Blizzard's factory became a distinction, like membership in an
exclusive club, and carried with it so many privileges of comfort and
self-respect that the employees couldn't very well help being efficient.

Blizzard's office, where he held the threads of many enterprises, became
a sort of clearing-house for East Side troubles. He kept free certain
hours during which, sitting for all the world like a judge, he listened
to private affairs, and sympathizing, scolding, wheedling, and even
bullying, he gave advice, gave money, found work, brought about
reconciliations, and turned hundreds of erring feet into the straight