As soon as the mother’s voice was heard by the smallest child, a little girl, she climbed up the side of the bed, and simply, and earnestly, in lisping tones, asked for a “piece of bread.”  The poor woman burst into tears, and turned her head away from her child.  Mrs. Williams went to the closet, saying—­“Come, Emma, I will get you some bread.  “The little thing was at her side in a moment.  But the search there was in vain.

“Where is the bread, Sally?” she asked.

“There is none in the house,” faintly murmured the almost broken-hearted mother.

“Good heavens!” said Mr. Williams—­“you are not without food, surely?”

“We have tasted nothing to-day,” was the startling reply.

“Where is Mr. Haller?”

“I know not—­he left the house a short time ago.”

“He ran out when he struck you, mother,” spoke up the little child who had asked for the bread.

Mr. and Mrs. Williams looked at each other for some moments in silence.

“Get a basket and come with me, John,” said Mr. Williams, to the oldest boy, who was gazing on with indifference or stupidity.

Mechanically he took a basket and followed his uncle.  They soon returned with bread, dried meat, ham, &c., and in a brief space, a comfortable meal was prepared for the starving family.

Conscience felt about the heart of Mrs. Williams that night, with touches of pain, and she repented of her cruel neglect, and unkind treatment of her sister.  She dreamed not of the extent of her destitution and misery—­simply, because she had refused to make herself acquainted with her real condition.  Now that the sad reality had been forced upon her almost unwilling eyes, a few returning impulses of nature demanded relief for her suffering sister.

Mr. Williams, whose benevolent feelings were easily excited, was shocked at the scene before him, and blamed himself severely for not having earlier become acquainted with Mrs. Haller’s condition.  He immediately set about devising means of relief.  Haller had become so worthless that he despaired of making him do anything for his family.  He therefore invited his sister-in-law to come home to our house, and bring her two youngest girls with her.  The rest were provided with places.  The family had grown pretty large, and she could assist in sewing, &c., and thus render a service, and live comfortably.  Mrs. Williams seconded the proposition, though not with much cordiality; she could not, however, make any objections.

We look at the sisters now in a different relation.  The superior in dependence on the inferior.  Can any for a moment question the result?