Next door to where she lived was a widow woman with three grown-up daughters, who were always busy working for the clothing-stores, or “slop-shops,” as they were called.  She had made their acquaintance during the winter, and found them kind and considerate of others, and ever ready with an encouraging word, or serious advice when called for.  The very small compensation which they received for their work, encouraged her but little, when she thought of obtaining something to do in the same way.  But the more she thought of other means, the less she found herself fitted for doing anything else, and at last determined to learn how to make common pantaloons, that she might have some resource to fly to, when all others failed.  She found her kind neighbours ready to give her all the instruction she needed, and they also kindly offered to introduce her to the shops whenever she should determine to take in work.  It did not take her long to learn, and soon after she had acquired the art, as her husband’s health still continued to decline, she began, in odd times, to make common pantaloons and vests, for which she received the meagre compensation of twelve-and-a-half cents each.  It took her about one-half of her time, actively engaged, to attend to her family.

During the remaining half of each day and evening, she would make a vest or a pair of pantaloons, which at the end of the week would bring her in seventy-five cents.  When she looked at this small sum, the aggregate of a week’s labour, during leisure from the concerns of her family, she felt but little encouraged in prospect of having the whole of her little family dependent upon her; and for some weeks she entertained, in the silence of her own heart, a sickening consciousness of coming destitution, which she might in vain endeavour to prevent.  Gradually her mind reacted from this painful state, and she gave daily diligence to her employments, entertaining a firm trust in Divine Providence.

As the spring opened, her husband’s health revived a little, and he found employment at a small compensation in a retail dry-goods store.  This just suited his strength and the state of his health, and he continued at it for something like three years.  During this period nothing of material interest occurred, and we pass it over in silence.

The long-looked-for, long-dreaded time, when Wilmer’s health should entirely give way, at length came; and although through the kindness of his employers he had been retained in the store long after he was able to do his full duty, yet at last he had to give up.

It would require a pen more skilled to portray the workings of the human heart, than mine, to sketch his real feelings, when he received his last month’s wages; the last that he felt he would ever earn for his family, and turned his steps homeward.  He loved the wife who had forsaken the wealth and comfort of a father’s house, and had been all in all to him through sunshine and storm, with deep and tearful