“Perhaps I shall choose for mine to go there too,” said Rosie.  “But I believe I’ll take a little more time to consider the claims of other causes.”

Walter closed his book and came to his mother’s side.  “Am I to have a share in it, mamma?” he asked.

“In selecting an object for me to give to?  Yes, my son.”

“A thousand dollars?”

“Yes.”

“Oh that’s good!  I think I’ll adopt an Indian boy, clothe and educate him.”

“Adopt?” laughed Rosie; “a boy of ten talking about adopting somebody else!”

“Not to be a father to him, Rosie—­except in the way of providing for him as fathers do for their children.  Mamma knows what I mean.”

“Yes, my boy, I do; and highly approve.  As a nation we have robbed the poor Indians, and owe them a debt that I fear will never be paid.”

“I mean to do my share toward paying it if I live to be a man,” Walter said, “and I’d like to begin now.”

“I am very glad to hear it, my son,” responded his mother.

“Would you prefer to have all your thousands go to pay that debt, mamma?” asked Rosie.

“No, child, not all; as I have said, I highly approve of Zoe’s choice; and I would send the gospel tidings into the dark places of the earth, to the millions who have never heard the name of Jesus.”

“And there is another race to whom we owe reparation,” remarked Mr. Dinsmore, leaning back in his chair, and regarding the chess-board with a half rueful look.  “There, Ned, my boy, I think you wouldn’t have come off victor if my attention had not been called from the game by the talk of the ladies.”

“Never mind, Grandpa; we’ll take all the blame,” laughed Rosie, jumping up to run and put her arms round his neck and give him a kiss.

He returned it, drew her to his knee, and went on with his remarks.

“You all know, of course, that I refer to the negroes, who were forcibly torn from their own land and enslaved in this.  We must educate and evangelize them:  as a debt we owe them, and also for the salvation of our country, whose liberties will be greatly imperilled by their presence and possession of the elective franchise, if they are left to ignorance and vice.”

“Grandpa, what do you mean by the elective franchise?” asked Walter going to the side of the old gentleman’s chair.

“The right to vote at elections, my son.  You can see, can’t you, what harm might come from it.”

“Yes, sir; they might help to put bad men into office; some of themselves maybe; and bad men would be likely to make bad laws, and favor rogues.  Oh yes, sir, I understand it!”

“Then perhaps you may want to help provide for the instruction of the colored race as well as of the Indians?”

“Yes, sir, I would like to.  I hope the thousand dollars may be enough to help the work for both.”

“I think it will; that your mother will be satisfied to have you divide it into two or more portions, that several good objects may receive some aid from it.”