rougher elements of life, will perchance but strengthen and increase his courage, and prepare him for the conflicts and struggles of after years; but oh, fond mother, keep that delicate, timid child which nestles to thy side with such confiding trust, which trembles at the voice of a stranger, and shrinks like the mimosa, from a rude and unfamiliar touch, under thine own sheltering roof-tree, for a time at least; there seek to develope and strengthen his delicate nature into more manly strength and vigor; there judiciously repress excessive sensibility, and increase confidence in himself and others; if it can possibly be avoided, do not expose him, while a child, to the tender mercies of those who do not understand his peculiar temperament, and who, however kind their feelings, cannot possess his confidence.

We need not dwell on the first weeks of Arthur’s stay at Mr. Martin’s.  They thought him a little homesick, but presumed he would soon get over it; he performed the little tasks they exacted of him with great alacrity, and was quite a favorite with Mrs. Martin, who said he was the most quiet, and well-behaved child she ever saw.  At first, Arthur thought of nothing but home, and home-scenes; but he struggled bravely to rise above sad and sorrowful thoughts, and to be contented.  “They shall never hear me complain,” he said to himself, “and dear mother too shall never know how bad I feel.  I want to do my duty, and be a brave boy.”

Every fortnight a letter came from home, and though Arthur read it with streaming eyes, it was a precious treasure.  He would read them over and over, till he seemed to hear his mother’s voice once more, and feel her loving hand upon his head.  He answered them; but wrote only a few words, saying, he was well, and the other common place remarks children usually write.  He was not happy, but he was calmer now, and did not every night cry himself to sleep.  The visit at home, was a bright, cheering spot, to which he often looked forward; and as week after week passed away, slowly indeed, he rejoiced in the certainty that that long-looked-for period was getting nearer and nearer, and would come at last.

CHAPTER II.

THANKSGIVING.

Thanksgiving! dear, delightful Thanksgiving!  What a happy sound in all childish ears!  What visions of roast turkeys, plum puddings, and pumpkin pies rise before us at the name!  What hosts of rosy cheeks, sparkling eyes, nicely-combed little heads, and bounding feet; what blazing fires and warm parlors; what large stuffed rocking-chairs, with comfortable-looking grandpapas and grandmamas in them; what huge bundles of flannel, out of which, plump blue-eyed babies roll; what stuffed hoods and cloaks, from which little boys and girls emerge; and better than all, what warm hearts brimming with affection; what sweet songs of joyful praise; what untold depths of “sacred and home-felt delight,” belong to thee, dear, glad, Thanksgiving-day!