had a chance of seeing the
help Nellie had with her many duties--a half-grown girl.

"Inexperienced, truly, inefficient and insufficient," said the kind
old man to himself; and he made a note of that on the tablets of his
heart.

Soon Nellie came back, looking much relieved, and said, smiling:

"She seems much better this morning. How these little ones fill our
heart with anxiety! I was up with her all night!"

Down went another note on Uncle Hiram's tablets. Awake all night with
a sick baby, and up cooking breakfast in the morning! No wonder her
youth and beauty have been chased away, poor, weary, over-worked
mother!

"Who lives next door, Charley?" asked his uncle, after they had
withdrawn from the breakfast-room.

"Why, I have a surprise for you--Henry lives there."

"Henry! Henry who?"

"Why, Henry Mayfield, my brother."

"No! Why, the last time I heard from him he was in St. Louis."

"Well, he is here now, and has been for five months. His wife's
relatives are all here. And so he having been offered a position in
the same firm with me, accepted it. We agreed to keep it as a pleasant
little surprise for you."

"Well, I'm glad of it."

Just as Uncle Hiram said so the object of their conversation came in.

Henry Mayfield was not the jovial, merry fellow that Charley was, and
not likely to be so generally a favorite. But there was an earnestness
and determination in his bearing that inspired respect immediately.

"Come, uncle! Go in with me to see my wife and little ones," said
Henry, after sitting and talking a while. "We have a half hour yet
before business requires us, and then, if you like, we will go down
town together."

Henry's parlor, into which he ushered his uncle, was furnished better
than his brother's; but still it was not so prettily arranged--the
"woman's touch" was not so plainly visible. Immediately Henry's wife
came in to welcome her husband's uncle.

She was a bright little woman, not near so delicately featured as
Nellie; but with a youthful, well-preserved look, an easy, quiet,
peaceful air about her that made Uncle Hiram feel quite sure, if he
stayed her guest a month, it would not put her out a bit. If any extra
care or worry came, it was not to her. Some one else's mind and hands
would have to overcome any difficulties.

"Henry, dear, have our boy brought in to see his uncle," she said.

"Ah, ha!" thought Uncle Hiram, "I see--the shoulders best able to bear
the burden of