Louis made an arrangement for the boys to live with Jane, and to go to our town school when it began in the fall.

“This summer,” he said to their mothers, “they need all the out-door air and free life they can have to help their pale cheeks grow rosy, and to give to their weak muscles a little of the strength they require.  I desire no papers to pass between us, for I am not taking your children from you, only helping you to give them the rest and change they need to save their lives.  They are the weakest boys in the mill and this is why I chose them first.  Every Saturday they shall come home to you, and stay over the Sabbath if you desire, and they shall also bring to you as much as they could earn in the mill.  Will this be satisfactory?”

Both these mothers bowed their heads in silent appreciation of the real service he was rendering, and I knew his labor was not lost.  I felt like adding my tribute to his, and said: 

“Your boys will be well cared for, and you shall come often to see us.  We expect you to enjoy a little with them.”

“Oh! mother, will you come over and bring the children?” said Willie.

“And you, too, mother,” echoed Burton.

Weary Mrs. Moore said: 

“I would like to breathe again in the woods and on the mountains, but I have five little ones left here to care for;” and Mrs. Brown added: 

“I could only come on Saturday, and the mill lets out an hour earlier, and your father needs me on that day more than any other.”

Her sad face and tearful eyes told my woman’s heart that this was the day he was tempted more than all others, and I afterward gathered as much from Burton.

“Well, we must turn toward home,” said Louis, and the boys kissed their mothers and their little brothers and sisters, and said “good-bye,” and each with his bundles turned to the carriage.  Louis untied Gipsy, and I said to the mothers: 

“Were they ever away over night?”

“No, never,” said both at once.

“I will arrange for them.  You shall hear to-morrow how the first night passes with them.”

“I was just thinking of that,” said Mrs. Brown; “God bless you for your thoughtfulness,” and getting into the carriage, we all waved our good-byes, and turned toward home.  We told Jane all we could to interest her, and particularly asked her to make everything pleasant for them, that they should not be homesick.  Louis went to their room with them, and when we left them at Jones’ gate, Willie Moore shouted after us: 

“It’s just heaven here, ain’t it?”

He was an uncommonly bright little boy, and yet had no education whatever beyond spelling words of three letters.  He was twelve years of age, and for three years he had worked in the mill.  Clara and all at home were delighted with our work, and Aunt Hildy said: 

“Ef Jane North does well by them boys, she oughter have a pension from the Gov’ment, and sence I know that’ll never give her a cent, I’ll do it myself.  I’ve got an idee in my head.”