he sleigh-bells
jingled merrily. Even in Slab Alley one could hear sounds of joy at the
approaching festivities. But there was no joy in Widow Martin's house or
heart. The dinner-hour had come and passed. The little children were
hungry. And yet Mrs. Martin had not made up her mind.

At the appointed time Lampeer came. He took out the two indentures with
which the mother was to sign away all right to her two eldest children.
It was in vain that the widow told him that if she lost them she could do
no work for her own support, and must be forever a pauper. Lampeer had an
idea that no poor person had a right to love children. Parental love was,
in his eyes, or his eye, an expensive luxury that none but the rich
should indulge in.

"Mrs. Martin," he said, "you may either sign these indentures, by which
your girl will get a good place as a nurse and errand-girl for the
tavern-keeper's wife, and your boy will have plenty to eat and get to be
a good hostler, or you and your young ones may starve!" With that he took
his hat and opened the door.

"Stop!" said Mrs. Martin. "I must have medicine and food, or Harry will
not live till Sunday. I will sign."

The papers were again spread out. The poor-master jerked the folds out of
them impatiently, in a way that seemed to say, "You keep me an
unconscionable long time about a very small matter."

When the papers were spread out, Mrs. Martin's two oldest children, who
began to understand what was going on, cried bitterly. Mrs. Martin took
the pen and was about to sign. But it was necessary to have two
witnesses, and so Lampeer took his hat and called a neighbor-woman, for
the second witness.

Mrs. Martin delayed the signature as long as she could. But seeing no
other help, she took up the pen. She thought of Abraham with the knife in
his hand. She hoped that an angel would call out of heaven to her relief.
But as there was no voice from heaven, she dipped the pen in the ink.

Just then some one happened to knock at the door, and the poor woman's
nerves were so weak that she let the pen fall, and sank into a chair.
Lampeer, who stood near the door, opened it with an impatient jerk,
and--did the angel of deliverance enter?

It was only Willie Blake and Sammy Bantam.

VIII.

SHARPS AND BETWEENS.

Let us go back. We left Willie awhile ago puzzling over that twenty-four
dollars. After many hours of thought and talk w