ve to work so hard, and we determined
to make you a present of it."

"May God bless you both!" exclaimed the widow, wiping a tear of
gratitude from her eye; "but I cannot think of taking your money."

"But, Mrs. Weston, you _must_ take it."

"And you give up your pleasure for a poor body like me?"

"We give the money to you because it will afford us a greater pleasure
than to spend it for fire-crackers and gingerbread."

"How noble and generous! but you wrong yourselves."

"Oh, no, we don't," said Charles; and at that moment he felt happier
than if all the gingerbread and fire-crackers in the world had been
showered down upon him.

"Hush! here comes Tony. Not a word to him about it if you please."

"Heaven bless you, boys!" said the poor woman as she put the money in
her pocket.

Frank and Charles talked a few moments with Tony about the "glorious
Fourth," and then took leave of the family.

CHAPTER III

A DISAPPOINTED BOY

Captain Sedley was an early riser. Every morning at sunrise he was
abroad in the pleasant grove that bordered the lake near his house. It
was a favorite spot, and he had spent a great deal of time and money in
bringing Art into communion with Nature in this lovely retreat. He had
cleared out the underbrush, made gravel walks and avenues through it,
erected a summer-house in the valley, and an observatory on the summit
of the hill, which terminated on the lake side in a steep rocky
precipice, at whose base the waters rippled.

The worthy shipmaster was a devout man, which was perhaps the reason
why he so much enjoyed his morning walk. It was the pleasantest hour of
all the day to him,--a fit time for meditation, and for the
contemplation of the beautiful scenery that surrounded his habitation.
The trees looked greener and the lake more limpid then, when his mind
was invigorated by the peaceful slumbers of the preceding night; and
there, in his favorite retreat, while all nature was smiling upon him,
went up his morning prayer to that beneficent Being who had spared him
yet another day, and crowned his life with loving-kindness and tender
mercies.

It was the morning of the Fourth of July; and the sounds of the booming
cannon and the pealing bells, which the westerly breeze bore up the
lake, reminded him of the gratitude he owed to God for the political,
social, and religious privileges which had been bequeathed to the
country by the fathers of the Revolution. He prayed for hi