“Seven cents, sir.”

“Seven cents!  How many of them can you make in a day?”

“Two are as many as I shall be able to get through with, and attend to my children; and even then I must work half the night.  If I had nothing to do but sit down and sew all the while, I might make three of them.”

“Shameful!  Shameful!  And is that the price paid for such work?”

“It is all I get.”

“At this rate, then, you can only make fourteen cents a day?”

“That is all, sir.  And, even on the best of work, I can never get beyond a quarter of a dollar a day.”

“How in the world, then, have you managed to keep yourself and three children from actual want?”

“I have not been able, doctor,” she replied, with some bitterness.  “We have wanted almost every thing.”

“So I should suppose.  What rent do you pay for this poor place?”

“Three dollars a month.”

“What! seventy-five cents a week! and not able to earn upon an average more than a dollar a week?”

“Yes, sir.  But I had better work through the summer, and sometimes earned two dollars, and even a little more, in a week.”

The doctor paused some time and then said—­

“Well, Mrs. Gaston, it’s no use for you to struggle on at this rate, even with your two remaining children.  You cannot keep a home for them, and cover their nakedness from the cold.  Now let me advise you.”

“I am ready to hear any thing, doctor.”

“What I would propose, in the first place—­and that, in fact, is what has brought me in this morning—­is that you put Henry out to a trade.  He is young, it is true; but necessity, you know, knows no law.  He will be just as well off, and better, too, under the care of a good master than he can be with you.  And, then, such an arrangement will greatly relieve you.  The care of little Emma will be light in comparison to what you have had to endure.”

“You are no doubt right, doctor,” the poor woman said, while the tears came to her eyes as she glanced toward Henry, who, for want of a pair of shoes, was compelled to stay home from school.  “But I cannot bear the thought of parting with him.  He is a delicate child, and only ten years old this winter.  He is too young to go from home and have a master.”

“He is young, I know, Mrs. Gaston.  But, then, it is vain to think of being able to keep him with you.  It is a cruel necessity, I know.  But it cannot be avoided.”

“Perhaps not.  But, even if I should consent to put him out, I know of no one who would take him.  And, above all, I dread the consequences of vicious association in a city like this.”

“That matter, I think, can all be arranged to your satisfaction.  I saw a man yesterday from Lexington, who asked me if I knew any one who had a lad ten or twelve-years old, and who would like to get him a good place.  I thought of you at once.  He said a friend of his there, who carried on the hatting business, wanted a boy.  I inquired his character and standing, and learned that they were good.  Now, I think this an excellent chance for you.  I have already mentioned your little boy to the man, and promised to speak to you on the subject.”