swept up her little room, stirred the fire, and placed upon it a
saucepan of water. She had brought out the bag of oatmeal, a basin,
and a spoon, and laid them upon the round deal table. The place,
though very scantily furnished, looked altogether neat and
comfortable. Mary now sat idle by the fire. She was not often idle.'
She was a pale, delicate-looking woman, of about five-and-thirty.
She looked like ones who had worked beyond her strength, and her
thin face had a very anxious, careworn expression. Her dress showed
signs of poverty, but it was scrupulously clean and neat. As it grew
later, she seemed to be listening attentively for the approach of
some one; she was ready to start up every time a step came near her
door. At length a light step approached, and did not go by it; it
stopped, and there was a gentle tap at the door. Mary's pallid face
brightened, and in a moment she had let in a fine, intelligent-looking
lad, about thirteen years of age, whom she welcomed with evident
delight.

"You are later than usual to-night, Stephen," she said.

Stephen did not reply; but he threw off his cap, and placed himself
in the seat Mary had quitted.

"You do not look well to-night, dear," said Mary anxiously; "is
anything the matter?"

"I am quite well, mother," replied the boy. "Let me have my supper.
I am quite ready for it."

As he spoke, he turned away his eyes from Mary's inquiring look.
Mary, without another word, set herself about preparing the supper,
of oatmeal porridge. She saw that something was wrong with Stephen,
and that he did not wish to be questioned, so she remained silent.
In the mean time Stephen had placed his feet on the fender, rested
his elbows on his knees, and his head on his hands. His hands
covered his face; and, by and by, a few large tears began to trickle
down his fingers. Then suddenly dashing off his tears, as though he
were ashamed of them, he showed his pale, agitated face, and said,
in a tone of indignation and resolve,

"Mother, I am determined I will bear it no longer."

Mary was not surprised. She finished pouring out the porridge; then,
taking a stool, she seated herself beside him.

"Why, Stephen," she said, trying to speak cheerfully, "how many
hundred times before have you made that resolution! But what's the
matter now? Have you any new trouble to tell me of?"

Stephen answered by silently removing with his hand some of his
thick curly hair, and showing beneath it an