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AUNT HATTIE'S LIBRARY

for Girls.


SERIES I.

    VOL.   I. THE SHEEP AND LAMBS.

     "    II. LILY'S BIRTHDAY.

     "   III. LITTLE MISS FRET.

     "    IV. MAGGIE AND THE MICE.

     "     V. THE LOST KITTY.

     "    VI. IDA'S NEW SHOES.




AUNT HATTIE'S LIBRARY

for Boys.


SERIES II.

    VOL.   I. THE APPLE BOYS.

     "    II. THE CHEST OF TOOLS.

     "   III. THE FACTORY BOY.

     "    IV. FRANKIE'S DOG TONY.

     "     V. THE GOLDEN RULE.

     "    VI. LYING JIM.

[Illustration: AUNT HATTIE'S LIBRARY]




The Factory Boy.

BY AUNT HATTIE,

AUTHOR OF THE "BROOKSIDE SERIES," ETC.


    "Trust in the Lord and do good, ... and verily thou shalt be fed."
                                                             DAVID.


    BOSTON:
    PUBLISHED BY HENRY A. YOUNG & CO.,
    NO. 24 CORNHILL.




    Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by

    REV. A. R. BAKER,

    In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of
    Massachusetts.

    ROCKWELL & ROLLINS, STEREOTYPERS,
    122 Washington Street.




                          To

      NELLIE, ROLAND COTTON, ANNIE, AND FULLER APPLETON,

             CHILDREN OF MY BELOVED NEPHEW,

          THE REV. JOHN COTTON SMITH, D.D.,

       THESE SMALL VOLUMES ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED,

                  WITH THE EARNEST PRAYER

    THAT THEIR LIVES MAY PROVE THEM TO BE LAMBS IN THE FOLD

                  OF THE GREAT AND GOOD

                   Shepherd of Israel.




CONTENTS.


    CHAPTER I.
                                    Page
    THE SILVER DOLLAR,       11

    CHAPTER II.
    KIND FRIENDS,            21

    CHAPTER III.
    THE NEW BOOTS,           32

    CHAPTER IV.
    A SAD STORY,             41

    CHAPTER V.
    GOING TO SCHOOL,         53

    CHAPTER VI.
    JOHNNY A FAVORITE,       64

    CHAPTER VII.
    JOHNNY'S TRUST,          74

    CHAPTER VII.
    JOHNNY'S NEW FATHER,     87

    CHAPTER IX.
    THE NEW HOUSE,           99




THE FACTORY BOY.




CHAPTER I.

THE SILVER DOLLAR.


"TAKE a cup of porridge, Johnny, dear. It's too cold to go to work
without something warm."

Johnny looked in the bowl which stood on the hearth, near a few
smouldering brands, and shook his head as he answered,--"I'm not very
hungry, mother. There's only enough for you and Ella." Then without
another word he hurried away, for the factory bell was ringing; and he
knew that he must not be late.

Poor little Johnny! How he shivered as he shuffled along that frosty
December morning! He could not pick up his feet, as the boys say, and
run; for his shoes were much too large for him, and the heels were so
worn that it was only by shuffling that he could keep them on his feet.
He had scarce a quarter of a mile to go; but cold and hungry as the
child was, it seemed a long way to him. He could not help wishing he
were a baby like Ella, and could lie in bed all day, with his dead
father's coat thrown over him to keep him warm.

It was early yet; and few people were stirring except the men, women,
and children who were hurrying to enter the factory before the bell
ceased to toll. Johnny hurried, too, for he remembered the scolding he
had received the day before for being five minutes too late, and was
just crossing the railroad track when his toe hit against something,
which he stooped to pick up.

It was a silver dollar; but he did not know it. He had never seen one.
He thought it was a temperance medal, like what he had seen strung
around the boys' necks.

His eyes shone with pleasure; he had often wished for a medal, and he
determined that when he reached the factory he would thread a piece of
yarn through the hole and wear it outside his jacket.

The place where Johnny worked was a stocking factory. His part was to
wind the skeins of yarn upon the long spools, from which the men and
large boys wove it into stockings.

He had forgotten about his hunger now, and was tying a knot in the
string he had put through the dollar, when a young woman came toward
him.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He held up the medal, saying, eagerly, "I found it."

"It's a dollar, a silver dollar, Johnny."

"Oh, goody!" cried the boy; "now I can have some new shoes. I thought it
was a Father Matthew's medal; but I'd rather have a dollar. Oh, I'm so
glad!"

The woman looked in his pale face, and couldn't help saying, as she did
so,--

"Are you hungry, child?"

"Not very."

"What did you have for breakfast?"

His lips quivered, but he knew by her kind face that she was a friend;
and he told her the whole story of his mother's long sickness; and how
they had grown poorer and poorer, until there was nothing now but what
he earned.

"I knew Ella would be hungrier than I," he said, looking the woman full
in the face with his clear blue eyes; "and so I didn't take the
porridge."

"Wait a minute; you sha'n't go to work so," was all she said; and then
she was off through the door, down the long steps in a hurry.

He pulled his stool close to the small wheel, on which was a large skein
of fine yarn, and began to turn it with his foot, when the woman came
back, bringing a small basket.

"Here, Johnny, eat this and this," giving him a buttered biscuit and a
piece of cold meat; "and carry the rest home. There is enough for you,
your mother, and Ella, to have a good dinner."

Poor Johnny was dumb with astonishment. He could scarcely realize that
all this was for him; but as the woman waited to see him eat, he pulled
the hard silver dollar from his pocket and held it out to her.

"No! no!" she exclaimed; "give it to your mother. She'll know what to
do with it, I dare say."

That was a happy day for Johnny; almost the happiest he had ever known.
He had begun it by giving up his own comfort for that of his mother and
sister, and by-and-by God sent him friends to care for him.




CHAPTER II.

KIND FRIENDS.


DONALD MILES was the name of the Superintendent of the stocking factory.
He had just married a young wife, and brought her to live in one of the
new houses near the mill. She was a Christian woman, who tried to follow
her Master, and do good wherever she had opportunity. She took a class
in the Sabbath school, and told her husband she meant to have some
scholars from the factory. Two or three times she had noticed Johnny
running up the steps, and thought, "that boy is too small for such
work." You can imagine, then, how she felt when she heard his simple
story.

In the evening Johnny and his mother were eagerly talking over the
various events and scenes of the day when Mrs. Miles opened the door
and presented herself before them.

"I feel sure," she had said to her husband, "that the child told me the
truth. His eyes were too honest to deceive; but still I mean to go this
very day and see for myself. Why, they have nothing to eat and are on
the very verge of starvation!"

"I wish, Johnny," Mrs. Talbot was saying, "that the dollar was ours; and
then you should have a pair of shoes; but it is not, and we must
contrive some way to find the owner."

The room was very poor, but clean as hands could make it. On the floor
in the corner was a straw bed, between the windows, a long chest, and
near the fire three small wooden stools standing before an old rickety
table.

Mrs. Miles soon convinced the poor woman that she was a friend; and,
before the visit was ended, she found that though one was very poor, and
the other comparatively rich, there was one tie which bound them
together,--they both loved Christ, and looked forward to living with him
forever in heaven.

When she rose to go she said to Johnny,--

"I'll take the dollar with me, and ask my husband what shall be done to
find the owner, and I'll see about the work for you right away. Why,"
she added, with a smile, "I can earn a dollar a day closing socks; and I
never was called smart with my needle; so keep up good courage. Better
days are coming for us."

"But I've tried a great many times to get work," answered the poor
woman, shaking her head. "They always told me there was none."

Mrs. Miles gave her head a little toss, as much as to say, "No one need
tell me that story." Then she laughed as she exclaimed,--

"Well, if I can't get work for you, I'll bring you mine. You need it
more than I do. Now don't cry,--it will hurt your eyes; but say your
prayers and go to bed. I'll be sure to come again soon."

When she shut the door, Mrs. Talbot began to cry; but these were happy
tears, which brought relief to her overburdened heart. Then she said to
Johnny,--

"Let us kneel down and thank God for sending us such a friend."

"O mother!" exclaimed the boy, when they arose from prayer; "wasn't that
bread and butter nice? I never tasted anything so good."

"Yes, dear; and when your father was alive we had bread and butter every
day."

The next morning, when the little boy went to his work, he looked all
about for his kind friend; but he did not see her until he had been
dismissed for dinner. He was passing along the sidewalk, when he heard a
tap on the window of a house close by, and, looking up, he saw Mrs.
Miles beckoning to him. She had a bundle rolled up in a towel, which she
told him to give his mother, and tell her she would have company in the
evening.

And true enough, just as Ella was safely in bed, there was a knock at
the humble door, and Mrs. Miles walked in, followed by her husband.

Johnny had never seen this gentleman except in the factory; and then he
looked very grave as he talked with the men or with merchants who came
from the city. Now it was very different. His young wife had told him a
pitiful story about the widow; and he came prepared to help her.

"So you were lucky to-day, Johnny, and found a dollar," he began, taking
the silver piece from his pocket. "I have made inquiries for you, and
can find no one who claims it; so I think you may keep it with a good
conscience."

Johnny's eager face expressed his thanks.

"What would you like to buy with it?"

"A pair of shoes, sir."

"Well, come on to the shoe-store."

"Yes," said the lady, with a smile; "and while you are gone, I'll give
Mrs. Talbot a lesson in closing the seams of the stockings."




CHAPTER III.

THE NEW BOOTS.


AS they walked together toward the store, Mr. Miles became as much
interested in his young companion as his wife could have wished. The
child discovered so much intelligence, and had evidently been so well
trained, that the superintendent fully agreed with Mrs. Miles, that
it was a pity he should not have a chance to go to school.

[Illustration: Mr. Mills going with Johnny to buy Shoes

Series II, vol. iii, p. 32.]

When they reached the store, the gentleman said, laughing,--

"Show us your best goods, now; we want a pair of stout brogans, such as
you can warrant will turn water."

"For him?" asked the merchant, nodding his head toward Johnny.

"Yes, for him. You see he needs them badly enough."

"Boots would be better."

"Ah, yes."

Mr. Miles's eyes began to twinkle. He had a happy thought; and so he put
Johnny's silver dollar, which he had been twirling by the string, into
his vest pocket, and began to examine carefully one pair after another
of the boots laid out for him on the counter.

"This is a good pair," he said, at last. "What is the price?"

"Three dollars. I'll warrant those; they are custom made; but they were
too small for the child whose mother ordered them. I should have
charged her five if they'd suited."

"Yes, I see they're first-rate boots,--what, in the hose line, I should
call 'A, number one.' Now I'll tell you what I propose. This little
fellow is the son of a widow, who, when my wife found her, had literally
not one mouthful of food. Just think of such destitution if you can!--a
good Christian, too; but the death of her husband and her own long
sickness have exhausted everything. I propose to give half the price,
and let you give the other."

"Oh, I can't afford that! Why, I've taken off two dollars already."

"Look here, now," urged Mr. Miles; "I'm going to start a subscription
for the benefit of the widow. It would make your heart ache to see how
very destitute she is of everything. I want your name down, of course; I
must have it. So here goes,--'Allen Manning, one dollar and a half.'
There, you'll be glad whenever you think of having made a child happy
and comfortable."

"Well, if you say so, I suppose I must."

"Thank you. Now I want your wife to join with mine and just make the
widow's hovel a little more tenantable. They'll work together finely, I
know. Mrs. Miles says she is sure a little nourishing food will do more
for the poor soul than a shop-full of medicine. You see, the poor
creature thinks herself in a decline."

Mr. Manning tied up the bundle and handed it to Johnny; and then the two
started off for home, the boy having looked the thanks his trembling
lips refused to utter.

"Now, Johnny," said Mr. Miles, "here's your medal; wear it around your
neck as long as you are a truthful boy. When you tell your first lie,
bring it to me."

"I don't dare to tell lies, sir; mother says God hates liars; but 'those
that speak the truth are his delight.'"

"That's true doctrine; and here we are."

Mrs. Miles opened the door when she heard her husband's voice, and said,
in a pleasant tone, and manner,--

"She learned the stitch in half the time I did."

The proud husband tapped her glowing cheek. I am sure he was thinking
what a darling little wife he had. And when Johnny eagerly related the
story of the boots, I know she thought,--

"That is so like Donald; he has such a noble heart."

"And I have the medal,--I mean the dollar, too, mother. I'm to keep it
till I tell a lie."

"Which I hope will never happen, dear. But did you thank our good,
generous friends? I have no words to express my gratitude."

"Never mind for words, Mrs. Talbot. Good-night."




CHAPTER IV.

A SAD STORY.


IT was, indeed, time that help should come to the poor widow, for a
cough had fastened itself on her lungs, which would soon have ended her
life. The room was damp and chilly, and her clothing quite too scant for
winter. Mrs. Miles would not wait till she had earned money to buy wood
and clothing and food.

"They would all freeze and starve," she told the people where she went
begging. "I want to get something to save their lives; and then, when
she is comfortable, the woman can earn enough to support her family."

In two weeks you would never have known the room; the glass was mended,
and now the sun shone in. There was a pretty, old-fashioned bedstead,
four nicely painted chairs, a table with leaves, a tiny mirror, a patch
spread, and the cunningest little cooking-stove, which kept the room
beautifully warm. At least, Johnny thought so when he came dancing home
from his work.

Besides all this, Mrs. Miles had procured from an old lady some healing
syrup, which had nearly cured the troublesome cough; and Mrs. Talbot
could sew now very well, without that terrible pain in her side.

She told her dear friend one day, that if she could only forget her past
trouble, she should be quite happy,--happier than she had ever expected
to be again.

"You must tell me about your troubles," Mrs. Miles said. And one
afternoon, when Johnny was at work in the factory, and Ella was taking
her nap, Mrs. Talbot began,--

"I was married when I was only seventeen, and went with my husband to
the western part of New York State. He was a carpenter, and could get
good wages, which supported us in great comfort. Johnny was almost seven
years old when Dexter, that is, my husband, told me he wanted to bring
home one of his workmen to live with us. The man had no home, and, as he
did not think it right to spend his evenings in a tavern, he was very
lonely. His name was Robert Hardy, and he gave very little trouble. He
grew to be fond of Johnny, and spent many leisure hours in amusing him
and making him playthings.

"But one day he came home sick; and for two weeks he never left his bed.
Dexter and I took all the care of him. When he grew better, he went away
to his mother. He sat by the fire thinking. I expected he would thank
us; but he did not. He held Dexter's hand like a vise; and he tried to
say good-by to me; but his voice failed. I have never seen him since. I
feel sure he was grateful. The doctor had told him our care saved his
life.

"The very night he left, Dexter grew delirious; he had stayed at home
with a cold for a week. The doctor came again, and said he had taken the
fever.

"Oh, those were dreadful days! He grew worse and worse, and I--it breaks
my heart when I think that I had nursed a stranger, and couldn't nurse
my own husband--I was lying on a bed in the same room; and my little
Ella lay beside me. Every moan of Dexter's went through my heart; and
when he died, all hope and joy died with him. I cared for nothing. I
remember but little of those long, weary months which followed. I should
have died but for the kindness of my neighbors.

"The Rector visited me; but I scarcely understood what he said. When
Dexter died, there were three hundred dollars laid by in the bank. Fifty
of it went for his funeral expenses and my mourning; and the rest went
little by little, till I had not a shilling left. Then Johnny was taken
sick. I hoped he would die; I hoped we all should die; but I began to
think that I was not prepared to follow my husband to heaven. He loved
his Saviour, and I did not.

"I tried to pray. The Rector's wife prayed with me, and led me to Jesus.
I learned to trust in him; but I was wholly inexperienced, and knew not
how to earn a living for myself and my little ones. I thought if I
could only get home to my parents that I should be happy; but I had
nothing left to pay my expenses.

"One by one my pieces of furniture were sold, and I was dependent on
charity for my daily food. At last they raised the money to pay my fare,
and, with all I had in the world packed in Dexter's chest, I left the
place where I had experienced the greatest joy and the greatest sorrow I
had ever known.

"When I reached home I found my father helpless from a paralytic
stroke, and mother worn out with care of him. One of my friends owned
this old house, and offered me the use of it. He said, as it was near
the factory, we could get work. I might have done something, but I took
cold and was unable to sit up. Afterward, when I inquired again and
again at the factory, I was told that they had already more applicants
than they could supply.

"At last Johnny got a place there; but his wages were small,
and--and--unless you had found us, I think we should really have
starved."




CHAPTER V.

GOING TO SCHOOL.


SPRING came at last; and then what delight Ella felt in being allowed to
run out of doors, and play on the new, fresh grass with the pussy Mrs.
Miles had given her!

Johnny was still in the factory; and Mrs. Talbot worked away at the
hose, making a very comfortable living. She could smile now at Ella's
cunning ways, and laugh with Johnny at the news he brought from the
mill, after his day's work was done.

He was in Mrs. Miles's class in Sabbath school,--her best scholar, she
said. He had won a prize already for obtaining two new scholars; and
what do you think it was? Why, a new Bible with clasps; and very proud
he was of it, too. Every Sabbath he learned his verses in it,--putting
in the red ribbon-mark with great care.

In the evening, Johnny read to his mother while she sewed, and now he
was learning to write.

Mrs. Talbot made a copy on the slate, and he wrote underneath, trying to
make every line better than the last.

One day he came running home from his work, his face looking very bright
and happy.

"Mother! mother!" he called out; "I'm going to school! I'm not going to
work any more,--I mean not all day. Mrs. Miles has settled it! And O
mother! I'm to go there this evening for a big bundle of clothes. She's
made me a jacket out of a coat of her husband's, and that was what she
wanted my other jacket for. Oh! oh! I'm so glad!"

"That is news!" exclaimed Mrs. Talbot.

"I'm to be advanced," he added; "she says so, and paid by the hour; and
I shall earn just as much working between schools as I do now. O
mother! isn't Mrs. Miles splendid?"

In the evening, Johnny went for the bundle; and the lady accompanied him
home to see how the new clothes fitted.

"It's my first trial," she said, laughing; "and I'm very proud to think
that I've succeeded so well."

Johnny turned round and round, as directed, to show first the back, then
the shoulders and front.

"I find I have a natural gift at tailoring," cried Mrs. Miles. "I shall
throw up making hose, and devote myself to my new calling. Just see that
sleeve, now! It looks as well as if it were bought from a fashionable
store."

"I don't know how to thank you," murmured the widow, laughing through
her tears. "I should have tried to cut them over, of course; but I'm
afraid I should have made a bungling piece of work of it."

"Well, then, if you confess so much, I will tell you that I have a right
to be proud; for the times that jacket has been ripped and sewed, and
ripped and basted and pressed, are beyond calculation. I made a study of
Mr. Miles's wedding-coat, at last, particularly the sleeves, and then I
found out what my trouble was. But the victory was worth all the pains;
so I don't count the four days I spent on it lost time."

"I mean to be very careful of my new clothes," said Johnny, who had
been listening in open-mouthed wonder.

They both laughed at his grave tone; and then Mr. Miles came for his
wife; and they talked about the Sabbath school.

"I want you, Mrs. Talbot, to do my wife a favor," said the gentleman,
trying to look serious. "She is desirous of having an infant class in
the Sabbath school, and wants you for the teacher. Ella, she says, is
old enough to go with you."

"Me!" exclaimed the widow, in great astonishment. "Me! Why, I am not
competent to teach any one."

"Neither am I," urged Mrs. Miles; "but I do love my Saviour; and I want
the boys and girls around me to love him; so I try to tell them what a
good Being he is, and what he has done for us. Can't you do that?"

With a deepened color the widow answered,--

"At least, I will try."

"I knew you would; and if you will only tell them the 'sweet story of
old,' as I heard you telling it to Johnny one of the first visits I made
you, and while I was waiting in the entry for you to answer my knock, it
is all I will ask. Ever since that time I have only been waiting for
summer so that the little ones, Ella among the rest, can go out."

[Illustration: Johnny with a new Scholar for the Sabbath-school.

Series II, vol. iii, p. 63.]

"She tells me beautiful stories about Daniel in the lion's den,"
exclaimed Johnny; "and about Joseph in prison. I can read them, too,
in my new Bible."

"There is a small vestry which seems made on purpose for your school,"
suggested Mr. Miles.

"Where we hope to see you next Sabbath," added the lady.

"I will do the best I can," was the humble reply; "and I am sure I shall
love the work."




CHAPTER VI.

JOHNNY A FAVORITE.


I WISH you could have seen Johnny the first morning he started for
school. His face was as clean as soap and water could make it; his hair
was nicely parted on his broad forehead; his eyes shone like stars; and
his mouth was wreathed with smiles. He wore the new suit Mrs. Miles had
given him, and a clean linen collar around his neck. In one hand he
carried a little pail full of dinner; and under his other arm, his
spelling-book, reader, and slate. He was to call at Mrs. Miles's for a
pencil; and so, after bidding his mother good-by and hearing her call
after him, "Be a good lad, Johnny, and don't let any idle boys turn you
from your book," he hurried away to be in season to choose a seat.

This was the first day of the term, and the earliest scholars had the
best chance.

Mrs. Miles met him at the door with the long slate-pencil nicely
sharpened in her hand; and, having looked at him from head to foot, she
said, approvingly,--

"You are just right, Johnny, and I'm proud of you." Then she kissed his
glowing cheek, and he ran down the steps.

I suppose you would like to know where the silver dollar was all this
time. Why, round Johnny's neck, to be sure! You know he was to wear it
till he told a lie; and, as he had never departed from the truth, it was
still there, fastened to a nice ribbon that his mother had bought for
it.

At school, Johnny liked his teacher and the boys; and they liked Johnny.
In school he was as grave as a judge, studying his lessons with all his
might; but at recess there was not a merrier boy among the whole set.
Playing ball or catcher were new games to him, who had always been
obliged to work so hard, and he enjoyed every moment of the time given
to them.

Then he was always fair at his plays, and ready to oblige his
companions. By-and-by it used to be said,--

"Don't cheat, now! Be fair, like Johnny Talbot."

This pleased Johnny's friends more than all the rest. To be sure they
liked to have him a good scholar,--to have him popular among his
school-mates; but it was best of all to know that he tried to do what
God would approve.

At home he was just the same boy that he was when I first began to tell
you about him, and was as ready to give up his pleasure to his mother
and Ella as he had been to give up his scant breakfast of Indian
porridge, when he knew there was not enough for all.

As you may imagine, Johnny was a very busy child. He rose almost as soon
as he could see, and reached the farm where his mother and Mrs. Miles
bought their milk, before the farmer was ready for him. Then he was back
with his two pails, and off for the factory for a couple of hours.

He was very happy here, for all the men and women smiled upon him, so he
whistled away at his work, though the noise of the machinery prevented
any one but himself hearing his music.

When the town-clock struck eight he was off for home, where he had only
just time to eat his breakfast, wash and dress for school, before it
was the hour to start.

After school, he changed his clothes again, and had three more hours for
work before dark.

So the summer passed happily away. Sometimes, indeed, when the boys were
starting off for nuts; or when he heard them on the common, flying their
kites, he used to wish, just for one moment, that he were rich, so that
he could have time to go with them; but he did not cherish such
thoughts. He knew that God had been very kind to him, and that his
heavenly Father had ordered all things for his best good. His mother had
explained to him that it was for Joseph's future advancement that God
allowed him to be put into prison, and that this great and good Being is
always watchful over those who love and trust him.

At home, though Johnny had little leisure, yet he contrived to please
Ella so much that she longed for his presence, and would run forth to
meet him, her apron full of grass and flowers, which she had gathered
for dear Johnny.




CHAPTER VII.

JOHNNY'S TRUST.


BY the industry of Johnny, and the wages of his kind mother, the family
at the cottage had passed a very comfortable summer; but now work was
scarce, and the widow looked forward with some dread to the cold
weather.

She well knew that more than one third of the women who worked for the
factory had received no hose for several weeks; and that it was only
through her friend's exertions that Mr. Miles sent it regularly to her.

Then, although her earnings had provided them with abundance of good
plain food, yet this sum, even if continued, would not supply fuel and
warm clothes. Nor was there anything to pay for mending the roof, where
the rain dripped in during every shower.

It was on a dreary November evening that Mrs. Talbot talked with her son
while Ella, untroubled by anxiety or care, lay soundly sleeping in the
bed at the farther corner of the room.

With a sigh, the widow told her boy she feared trouble was before them.

"Everything seems dark," she went on; "I can't see where help to carry
us through the winter is coming from. We can't live in this house much
longer unless it has new shingles on the roof; and I know that is a
very costly job. Then we all need warm clothes. I'm afraid, Johnny,
you'll have to leave school and work harder than you have ever worked
before;" and she sighed again.

Johnny's chin trembled. "I can't work in the mill, mother," he began,
trying to keep back a sob. "One of the men told me to-day there were no
orders from the merchants, and they would have to stop."

The widow covered her pale face with her hands. "We shall starve,
then," she cried out, in a voice of agony. "Oh, if your father were only
alive!"

She leaned on the table and wept bitterly.

"Mother," faltered Johnny, drawing his coat-sleeve across his eyes;
"mother, you told me our heavenly Father loves us better than any
earthly father. Won't he help us if we pray to him? Don't cry so,
mother; I think he knows about it, and perhaps he'll take care of us,
as he did when we were starving before."

"Johnny! Johnny! I've been wicked. I've been doubting him all day. Yes,
my child, he is good, merciful, and true to his promises, even to poor,
weak creatures like me. We will pray, and we will trust. I feel happier
already. I have been carrying my burden of care when he says we may cast
it on him. Come, Johnny, we will pray."

They kneeled together by the firelight; and the woman, with a full
heart, thanked her heavenly Father for her precious boy,--that his faith
had not wavered when she so wickedly doubted his power or his
willingness to help them. She thanked him again for his former care of
them, and she urged his gracious promise, "I will be the widow's God,
and a father to the fatherless."

She arose and took her seat with almost a smile.

"All my anxiety has gone," she said, in a cheerful tone; "I know my
heavenly Father is able and willing to help us. Johnny, my precious boy,
how could I murmur when you and Ella are spared?"

"I prayed in my heart all the way home," faltered the boy; "I didn't
know what we should do; but I kept saying to myself,--

"'God knows all about it,--just as he did about Joseph in prison.'"

His mother drew him to her side, and kissed his forehead.

"Now you must go to bed," she said. "Though we trust God for the
future, we must do all we can to help ourselves. I have work for another
week; and you must be off early to yours. When this fails, I feel sure
that we shall be provided for somehow."

Johnny lay quiet on his couch, and his mother thought him asleep. She
read chapter after chapter of God's holy word, comforting herself in his
gracious promises, when she was startled by hearing her boy say,--

"Mother, there's my silver dollar, you know. That will buy a good deal."

"Yes, dear."

Her voice trembled. She knew how much he prized that dollar, and how
often Mr. Miles had asked to see it, "to be sure," he said, "that it was
not lost or forfeited." She resolved that not until everything else had
been sacrificed should that dollar be parted with.

Two days later Johnny ran home with the joyful announcement,--

"Mrs. Miles has come home! I've seen her. She beckoned me to go in, and,
O mother! what do you think she showed me? The cunningest little baby I
ever saw. She wants you to come right over, and she----"

Mrs. Talbot interrupted him by saying,--

"That is good news! I'll go at once, and take Ella, so that I can stay
and help her. Rake up the fire as quickly as you can, and put on Ella's
hood."

"I felt a little troubled for you," exclaimed the lady, when, after a
cordial embrace, she had heard a confession of the widow's fears; "but I
am sure all will come out right and bright. That dear Johnny! I hope my
boy will be just like him;" and here she gave the baby a good squeeze.

"If the mill is shut, as I suppose it must be, we shall go to my
father's for the winter. It will be a trial to all of us; but we will
trust it is for the best. My husband told me that he should know
certainly at the end of another week. If no orders come in before that
time, they can't keep on."

Mrs. Talbot took the baby and began to caress it to hide her troubled
face; but presently said, with a smile,--

"How thankful we ought to be that there is One who orders all events in
our lives, and that this Being is he who calls himself our Father."




CHAPTER VIII.

JOHNNY'S NEW FATHER.


THE cold weather came on early this year. As he ran shivering home from
school, Johnny saw, at almost every house, the preparations for winter.
Here was a pile of wood, and there a large heap of coal, suggestive of
warmth and comfort. Two days more and the important question about the
factory would be decided. If Mrs. Miles went away, it would be very
desolate. God only knew how they should be able to get along.

He thought of all this one night as he was returning from the factory,
and to comfort himself began humming his favorite tune,--

    "I have a Father in the promised land."

As he came in sight of the cottage, he wondered at the bright light
which reflected from the windows; but he wondered still more at the
scene presented within.

Their one table was set in the middle of the floor, and spread with such
abundance as he had never seen there. His mother was hurrying to and
fro, and intent on the cakes she was frying, while at the same time she
talked with a well-dressed man who sat near the fire holding Ella in his
lap.

"I haven't forgotten your favorite dish," she said, with an arch smile.
"You liked rye fritters best, while Dexter preferred buckwheats."

"Ah, there is Johnny!" exclaimed the stranger, holding out his hand.
"Don't you remember me?"

It was, indeed, an old friend,--the man who had been watched and nursed
by Mrs. Talbot and her husband, and from whom she had never since heard.
He had spent a week in searching for her, he said; and now he meant to
take care of her and the children.

After supper, he rocked Ella to sleep, and then begged to hold her
awhile; for, he said, "I have something to tell you."

"You know I had not fully recovered when I went away," he began. "I
tried to thank you, but I couldn't; my heart was too full. I heard of
Dexter's death, and felt that I had lost a brother. The next thing I did
was to make a resolution to be a brother to you and yours. I worked hard
and saved every penny. Not that I thought money could pay you for your
care of me; but I felt that you might need help.

"There," he added, holding out a package, "is the first I earned. I laid
it aside for you."

The widow's face flushed as she saw written on a corner of the wrapper,
"Two hundred dollars."

"I found a good place and succeeded well. Every day I repeated the
prayer Johnny taught me on my sick-bed, and God answered it. I saw my
need of a Saviour, and gladly accepted the one offered me in the Bible.
I wrote again and again to you, sending my letters to our old place; but
I had no reply. At last I grew too anxious to wait longer, and, settling
my business, I set out to find you. I wish I had started a year ago."

"God's time is the best time," murmured the widow, her eyes full of
tears.

Then Mr. Hardy bade Johnny bring the Bible, and they had reading and
prayers together.

Early as the widow rose the next morning, their guest was up before her,
and on the roof examining the building. In the course of the day the
leak was stopped, the broken steps mended, and a new lock put on the
door.

Toward night he went out, but soon returned with a wagon containing a
barrel of flour, two casks of potatoes, beside sundry small parcels. An
hour later the wagon came again with a neat bedstead, mattress, and two
stout blankets, and a whole web of cotton cloth for sheets.

Mrs. Talbot clasped her hands on her breast, saying to herself, "The
Lord has, indeed, appeared for me." When she tried, with a broken voice;
to thank Mr. Hardy, he only smiled as he said,--

"Wait a little. You'll find I'm selfish after all."

They had a long talk that evening, after the children were asleep, which
accounted perhaps for the pretty pink in the widow's cheek, when Johnny
saw her the next morning.

"Come here, my boy," said Mr. Hardy, drawing a stool to his side; "I
loved your father. He was one of the best men I ever knew. But as he is
gone, your mother last night consented that I should be a father to you
and Ella. Will you be my true and loving son?"

He opened his arms, and Johnny was clasped to his breast.

"I will try to be a good son," he whispered.

As Mr. Hardy urged there was no use in delay, the next Sabbath morning
they went to the Rector's house and were married, Mr. Miles giving the
bride away.

When Mr. Hardy examined the cottage, he did it with the resolution to
repair it, if it proved worth the expense. But he found many of the
timbers rotten, and the sills sunken into the ground. He thought it
better, therefore, to put up a new house, for which he had abundant
means. He hired an old barn, and fitted it up for a shop, and then,
when not otherwise engaged, labored diligently at getting out the frame,
doors, and windows for his new building.




CHAPTER IX.

THE NEW HOUSE.


THE factory was closed, but only for a few weeks. Just as Mr. Miles was
making preparation to leave, orders came in, which obliged him to employ
all their old hands.

Johnny did not leave school, but worked two hours in the morning, as
before. He did not work at night, because his new father insisted that
every boy must have some time to play; and then, when Mr. Hardy began to
have more work than he could do, Johnny must get kindlings for his
mother, or run of errands for her.

In the spring the new house was finished; a plain, neat building, with a
pretty portico over the front door. Johnny and his mother often talked
about their old trials, and always remembered with pleasure that in the
hour of their sorest need, they did not forget to trust in the great
and good God.

Would you like to know what kind of a house it was to be? I will try to
describe it as Mr. Hardy did to Johnny and his mother one evening, with
Ella sitting on his knee.

"There," he said, drawing a plan on Johnny's slate, "is the front door,
which leads into the entry. Out of this on one side is a room, which we
will call the Sunday-room; because I shall, by and by, have an organ in
there, and we will sing psalm tunes on Sunday."

Johnny gave a scream of delight, and Ella asked, "May I sing, too?"

"Certainly, my dear. Now here on the other side is the room where we
shall live and take our meals. Behind the front entry is a large closet,
into which I mean to put lockers and drawers, so that your mother can
keep her dishes nicely arranged, as they used to be in her old home. I
remember," he added, with a smiling glance at his wife, "how cosily the
room used to look when Dexter and I came home from our work, and how I
thought I should be the happiest man living if I had somebody to care
for me as you did for Dexter.

"Besides, there will be a kitchen and a shed beyond, where you will have
a chance to cut and pile wood. Ella must have some work, too, and so
here goes the chicken-house, where she will have to feed the biddies,
and find the nice white eggs. Upstairs, Johnny, there will be four
chambers, beside a tiny room over the front entry."

"Mother is crying!" exclaimed Ella, springing to the floor.

"It seems like a dream, a happy dream," said Mrs. Hardy, softly. "Only a
few weeks ago, and we were so destitute, and knew not where to turn for
help!"

"But we prayed to God, mother, and he heard us. I guess that's why he
sent Mr. Hardy here, don't you?"

       *       *       *       *       *

Transcriber's Note: Obvious punctuation errors repaired.





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Factory Boy, by Madeline Leslie

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