re three hungry-eyed
anaemic children, a girl and two boys.

"How are you, Nell?" inquired Helen, giving the woman a kiss that
seemed almost to frighten her. "It's been two years since I've seen
you."

"I'm not very well, Helen," the other replied, wearily. "I've about
given up all hope of ever seeing any better days. But what brings you
here? I didn't expect ever to see you again."

"Now, Nell, don't talk that way," Helen protested. "You know--or maybe
you don't know it--that I would do anything in the world to help you
out of this unhappy condition, but Dave's way of looking at things
makes it impossible. If you had any vitality I would urge you to leave
him and earn your own living."

"But I haven't any left, Helen," said the discouraged woman; "and I
don't believe I'll ever recover any. I've rested hope after hope on
Dave's assurances of his ability to make a success in life. Really he
is a queer genius, and I don't use the word genius entirely with
disrespect. In some ways he's clever, very clever, but in other ways
he is the most impossible man you ever knew. I believe he is
thoroughly honest, but he has no idea of the value of money or what it
means to his family. I believe he is by far the strongest leader among
the men, but it does neither him nor his family any good. Many a labor
leader would make such power and position a source of revenue for
himself, but not Dave. Instead, half of his earnings, when he works,
are devoted to the labor cause."

"How does he get such a hold on the miners?" Helen inquired.

"By talk, just talk, and really, I must admit he is the cleverest
speaker I ever heard. I've seen an audience of a thousand working men
and women stand on their tiptoes and cheer him as if they would burst
their lungs. I was proud of him on such occasions, but when we got
home to our stale bread and soup I could not help wondering if it was
not all a dream and I had not just waked up to the reality of things."

"When will he be home?"

"I wish I could tell you," the woman said, helplessly. "He may be here
in five minutes and he may not come before 12 or 1 o'clock tonight."

"Right here is where the holiday charity work of the Flamingo Camp
Fire begins," she told herself. Then aloud she added:

"I haven't had much to eat since morning, couldn't eat much this noon
in my condition of mind, and I'm hungry; what have you in the house
for a Sunday evening lunch, Nell?"

"Not much, Helen," was the rep