ce is the artisan's anxious thought, stolen back to
brood over the uncompleted task.

Though Mr. Slocum had spoken lightly of Slocum's Yard with only
one workman in it, when he came to contemplate the actual fact he was
struck by the pathos of it, and the resolution with which he awoke
that morning began to desert him.

"The worst is over," exclaimed Richard, joining his two friends on
the veranda, "and everything went smoother than I expected."

"Everything went, sure enough," said Mr. Slocum, gloomily; "they
all went,--old Giles, and Lumley, and everybody."

"We somewhat expected that, you know."

"Yes, I expected it, and wasn't prepared for it."

"It was very bad," said Richard, shaking his head.

The desertion of Giles and his superannuated mates especially
touched Mr. Slocum.

"Bad is no word; it was damnable."

"Oh, papa!"

"Pardon me, dear; I couldn't help it. When a man's pensioners
throw him over, he must be pretty far gone!"

"The undertow was too strong for them, sir, and they were swept
away with the rest. And they all but promised to stay. They will be
the very first to come back."

"Of course we shall have to take the old fellows on again," said
Mr. Slocum, relenting characteristically.

"Never!" cried Richard.

"I wish I had some of your grit."

"I have none to spare. To tell the truth, when I stood up there to
speak, with every eye working on me, like a half-inch drill, I would
have sold myself at a low figure."

"But you were a perfect what's-his-name,--Demosthenes," said Mr.
Slocum, with a faint smile. "We could hear you."

"I don't believe Demosthenes ever moved an audience as I did
mine!" cried Richard gaily. "If his orations produced a like effect,
I am certain that the Grecian lecture-bureau never sent him twice to
the same place."

"I don't think, Richard, I would engage you over again."

"I am sure Richard spoke very well," interrupted Margaret. "His
speech was short"--

"Say shortened, Margaret, for I hadn't got through when they
left."

"No, I will not jest about it. It is too serious for jesting. What
is to become of the families of all these men suddenly thrown out of
employment?"

"They threw themselves out, Mag," said her father.

"That does not mend the matter, papa. There will be great
destitution and suffering in the village with every mill closed; and
they are all going to close, Bridget says. Thank Heaven that this did
not happen in the winter!"

"The