ey had him christened William. As
year after year was added to his young life, he grew into a gentle,
fair-haired, sweet-tempered child, whose place upon his father's
knee was never yielded even to his sister, on any occasion. His ear
was first to catch the sound of his father's approaching footsteps,
and his voice the first to herald his coming. This out-going of
affection toward him, caused Mr. Bancroft to feel for little
"Willy," as he was called, a peculiar tenderness, and gave to his
voice a tone of music more pleasant than sounds struck from the
sweetest instruments.

Year after year came and went, in ever varying succession, adding,
every now and then, another and another to the number of Mr.
Bancroft's household treasures. For these, he was not always as
thankful as he should have been; and more than once, in anticipation
of blessings in this line, was known to say something, in a
murmuring way, about being "blessed to death." And yet for Flora,
and William, and Mary, and Kate, and even Harry, the last and least,
he had a place in his heart, and all lay there without crowding or
jostling each other. The great trouble was, what he was to do with
them all. How are they to be supported and educated? True, his
salary had been increased until it was a thousand dollars, which was
as much as he could expect to receive. On this he was getting along
very well, that is, making both ends meet at the expiration of each
year. But the children were getting older all the time, and would
soon be more expense to him; and then there was no telling how many
more were still to come. They had been dropping in, one after
another, ever since his marriage, without so much as saying "By your
leave, sir!" and how long was this to continue, was a question much
more easily asked than answered. Sometimes he made light of the
subject, and jested with his wife about her "ten daughters;" but it
was rather an unrelishable jest, and never was given with a
heartiness that made it awaken more than a smile upon the gentle
face of his excellent partner.

We will let five or six years more pass, and then bring our friend,
Mr. Bancroft, again before the reader. Flora has grown into a tall
girl of fifteen, who is still going to school. William, now a youth
of thirteen, is a lad of great promise. His mind is rapidly opening,
and is evidently one of great natural force. His father has procured
for him the very best teachers, and is determined to give