“God bless his brave heart!” she murmured.  “He is a good boy and deserves to succeed.  It worries me that he has such a burden upon his young shoulders; but Father Hamill says this will only keep him steady, and will do him no harm if he does not overtax his strength.  What a shabby, contracted house this is!  Well, I must try to make it as bright and pleasant as possible.  I wish the girls were older and able to earn a trifle; every penny helps nowadays.  Mary, indeed, might find a place to run errands for a dressmaker, or something of the kind; but I can not bear to think of her going around alone down town, becoming pert and forward.  Besides, she is so bright and smart that it seems a pity to interfere with her studies.  She will need all the advantages she can get, poor child!”

With a sigh the mother returned to her duties, prepared breakfast for the other children and in the course of an hour hurried them off to school.  There were three:  Mary, just twelve years old; Lizzie, ten; and Jack, who had attained the precocious and mischief-loving age of seven.  Bernard was eighteen, and the head of the family,—­a fact which Mrs. Farrell strove to impress upon the minds of the younger members, as entitling him to special respect and affection.  He was also the principal bread-winner, and had ten dollars a week, which was considered a fine beginning for one so young.  Still, it was not a great deal for them all to rely on, and his mother endeavored to eke out their scanty livelihood by taking sewing, and in various other ways.

Life had not always been such a struggle for the Farrells.  Before the death of the husband and father they had been in good circumstances.  Mr. Farrell held for years a responsible position as book-keeper and accountant in one of the largest mercantile establishments of the city.  He had a fair salary, which enabled him to support his family comfortably.  But, alas! how much often depends upon the life and efforts of one person!  An attack of pneumonia, the result of a neglected cold, carried him out of the world in three days.  There had been only time to attend to his religious duties, and no opportunity to provide for the dear ones he was about to leave, even if any provision had been possible.  When the income derived from the father’s daily labor ceased, they found themselves suddenly plunged into comparative poverty.  His life-insurance policy had not been kept up; the mortgage on the pretty home had never been paid off, and was now foreclosed.  The best of the furniture was sold to pay current expenses, and the widow removed with her children to the third floor of a cheap apartment house,—­one of those showy, aggressively genteel structures so often seen in our Eastern cities, with walls of questionable safety and defective drainage and ventilation.