suffered on a former occasion by not explaining his true situation, determined to mention to his new employer how he felt. and ask a little respite for a day or two, until his strength should return.  He, accordingly, left the large pile of iron which he had commenced assorting, and entered the counting-room.  He felt a great degree of hesitation, but strove to keep it down, while he summoned up resolution to utter distinctly and mildly his request.

The man of iron was busy over his bill-book when Wilmer sought his presence, and looked up with a stern aspect.

“I feel quite sick,” began Theodore, an older man than his employer, “from working beyond my strength for the last two days, and should be very glad if you could employ me at something lighter for as long a time, until I recover myself, when I will be much stronger than when I began, and able to keep steadily on.  I have never been used to hard labour, and feel it the more severely now.”

Mr.—­looked at him with a slight sneer for a moment, and then replied,—­

“I can’t have any playing about me If my work suits you, well; if not, there are a plenty whom it will suit.”

Silently did Wilmer withdraw from the presence of the unfeeling man, and turned with aching limbs to his toilsome work.

At night he found himself much worse than on the preceding evening; and on the ensuing morning he was unable to go to the store.  It was nearly a week before he could again find his way out, and then he was in a sadly debilitated state, from the effects of a fever brought on by over-exertion.  He went to the iron-store, and formally declined his situation.  No offer was made to reengage him, and as he turned away from the door of the counting-room, he heard the man remark, in a sneering under-tone to a person present, “a poor milk-sop!”

Generally, the unfortunate are stung to the quick by any reflection upon them by those in a better condition; and few were more alive to ridicule than Wilmer.  Both the condition and the constitutional infirmity combined, made the remark of Mr.—­produce in his bosom a tempest of agitation; and for a moment he was roused from his usual calm exterior; but he recovered himself as quick as thought, and hurried away.  He did not go directly home, but wandered listlessly about for several hours.  When he returned at the usual dinner hour, he found his wife busily engaged in preparing dinner.  Her babe was asleep in the cradle, by which sat the eldest boy, touching it with his foot, while the other little one, about four years old, was prattling away to her baby-doll.

“Why Constance, where is Mary?”

“She has gone away,” was the smiling reply.

“How comes that?  I thought she appeared very well satisfied.”