" ejaculated Mrs. Sharp, in
breathless surprise. "Sent home on New Year's day to his mammy! A
pretty how-do-you-do, upon my word! the dirty little ill-conditioned
brat!"

"I believe, now I come to think of it," said Sharp, "that I did say
something of the kind to his mother, just to pacify her, though I
had no thought of doing it; and, indeed, I don't suppose she cares
any great deal about seeing him. She didn't look as if she could
keep soul and body together long."

"If she wanted to see him so dreadful bad, why didn't she keep him
at home with her tied all the while to her apron string?" said the
unfeeling woman.

"She would have had to work a little harder to have done that. No
doubt she was glad enough to get rid of the burden of supporting
him."

"Well, all that I can say is, that any mother who is not willing to
work to take care of her children, don't deserve to see them."

"So say I," returned the husband.

"And as to Henry's going home, I wouldn't hear to any such thing.
He'd not be a bit too good to trump up any kind of stories about not
being treated well, so as to prevails upon her not to let him come
back. I know just how boys like him talk when they get a chance to
run home. Even when they do come back, they're never worth a cent
afterward."

"Oh, no! As to his going home, that is out of the question this
winter," replied Sharp. "If his mother cares about seeing him,
she'll find her way out here."

With a sadder heart than ever did poor Henry grope his way up into
the cold garret that night, with but one thought and one image in
his mind, the thought of home and the image of his mother. He
dreamed of her all night. He was at home. Her tender voice was in
his ear, and his head rested on her bosom. She clothed him in warmer
garments, and set him beside her at the table, upon which was
tempting food. But morning came at last, and he was awakened from
visions of delight to a more painful consciousness of his miserable
condition by the sharp, chiding voice of his cruel mistress. Slowly,
with stiffened limbs and a reluctant heart did he arise, and enter
upon the repulsive and hard duties of another day.

As he had not been permitted to go home, his next consolatory
thought was that his mother would come out at once to see him. This
hope he clung to day after day, but he clung to it in vain. It
mattered not that, every-time the shop-door opened when he was in
it, he turned with a quickened pulse to