parcel, wrapped in a fragment of newspaper.

"How much is she to pay for the work?"

"I hardly know what to ask. I guess twenty-five cents will be about
right."

"Very well, Aunt Jane. Any other errands?"

"If you get the money, Robert, you may stop at the store and buy a
quarter of a pound of their cheapest tea. I am afraid it's extravagant
in me to buy tea when there's so little coming in, but it cheers me up
when I get low-spirited and helps me to bear what I have to bear."

"Of course you must have some tea, Aunt Jane," said Robert quickly.
"Nobody can charge you with extravagance. Anything more?"

"You may stop at the baker's and buy a loaf of bread. Then
to-morrow--please God--we'll have a good breakfast."

"All right, aunt!" and Robert began to walk rapidly toward the village,
about a mile inland.

Poor woman! Her idea of a good breakfast was a cup of tea, without milk
or sugar, and bread, without butter.

It had not always been so, but her husband's intemperance had changed
her ideas and made her accept thankfully what once she would have
disdained.

It must be said of Robert that, though he had the hearty appetite of a
growing boy, he never increased his aunt's sorrow by complaining of
their meager fare, but always preserved a cheerful demeanor in the midst
of their privations.

I have said that the settlement, which was known as Cook's Harbor, was a
fishing village, but this is not wholly correct. A mile inland was a
village of fair size, which included the houses of several summer
residents from the city, and these were more or less pretentious.

Several comfortable houses belonged to sea captains who had retired from
active duties and anchored in the village where they first saw the
light.

The cabins of the fishermen were nearer the sea, and of these there were
some twenty, but they were not grouped together.

I have said that the main village was a mile away. Here was the tavern,
the grocery store and the shops of the tailor and shoemaker. Here was
centered the social life of Cook's Harbor. Here, unfortunately, the
steps of John Trafton too often tended, for he always brought up at the
tavern and seldom came home with a cent in his pocket.

Robert was no laggard, and it did not take him long to reach the
village.

Just in the center stood the tavern, a rambling building of two stories,
with an L, which had been added within a few years.

During the summer there were generally boarder