“Oh, ay! nice little boy!” he replied, vacantly; “whose son is he?”

Mrs. Ellis’s voice quivered as she reiterated, “It’s Charlie—­our Charlie!—­don’t you know him?”

“Oh, yes! nice little boy—­nice little boy.  Oh!” he continued, in a suppressed and hurried tone, as a look of alarm crossed his face; “run home quick, little boy! and tell your mother they’re coming, thousands of them; they’ve guns, and swords, and clubs.  Hush!  There they come—­there they come!” And he buried his face in the shawl, and trembled in an agony of fright.

“Oh, mother, this is dreadful!” exclaimed Charlie.  “Don’t he know any of you?”

“Yes; sometimes his mind comes back—­very seldom, though—­only for a very little while.  Come away:  talking to him sometimes makes him worse.”  And slowly and sorrowfully the two left the apartment.

That evening, after Mr. Ellis had been safely bestowed in bed, the family gathered round the fire in the room of Mrs. Ellis, where Charlie entertained them with a description of Warmouth and of the manner in which he had passed the time whilst there.  He was enthusiastic respecting Mrs. Bird and her kindness.  “Mother, she is such a dear old lady:  if I’d been as white as snow, and her own son, she couldn’t have been kinder to me.  She didn’t want me to come away, and cried ever so much.  Let me show you what she gave me!” Charlie thrust his hand into his pocket, and drew out a small wallet, from which he counted out four ten-dollar bills, two fives, and a two dollar and a half gold piece, “Ain’t I rich!” said he, as, with the air of a millionaire, he tossed the money upon a table.  “Now,” he continued, “do you know what I’m about to do?” Not receiving any answer from his wondering sisters or mother, he added, “Why, just this!—­here, mother, this is yours,” said he, placing the four ten-dollar bills before her; “and here are five apiece for Esther and Cad; the balance is for your humble servant.  Now, then,” he concluded, “what do you think of that?”

Mrs. Ellis looked fondly at him, and, stroking his head, told him that he was a good son; and Esther and Caddy declared him to be the best brother in town.

“Now, girls,” said he, with the air of a patriarch, “what do you intend to do with your money?”

“Mine will go towards buying me a dress, and Esther will save hers for a particular purpose,” said Caddy.  “I’ll tell you something about her and Mr. Walters,” continued she, with a mischievous look at her sister.

“Oh, Caddy—­don’t!  Ain’t you ashamed to plague me so?” asked Esther, blushing to the roots of her hair.  “Mother, pray stop her,” cried she, pleadingly.

“Hush, Caddy!” interposed her mother, authoritatively; “you shall do no such thing.”

“Well,” resumed Caddy, “mother says I mustn’t tell; but I can say this much——­”

Esther here put her hand over her sister’s mouth and effectually prevented any communication she was disposed to make.