"I guess you can manage him."

Andy smiled, for it was his own conviction, also. With his bundle on
his shoulder he trudged on, light of heart, for he was about to see
his mother and sister, both of whom he warmly loved.




CHAPTER III
ANDY AND HIS MOTHER


The house in which the Widow Burke and her daughter lived was a very
humble one. It had not been painted for many years, and the original
coat had worn off, leaving it dark and time-stained. But when Mrs.
Burke came to town, a short time before, it was the only dwelling she
could hire that was held at a rent within her means. So she and Mary,
who was now eleven years old, had moved in their scanty furniture and
made it look as much like a home as possible.

Mrs. Burke had not always been as poor as now. She was the daughter of
an Irish tradesman, and had received quite a good education. In due
time she married a small farmer, who was considered to be in fair
circumstances, but there came a bad year, and misfortunes of various
kinds came together. The last and heaviest of all was fever, which
prostrated her husband on a bed of sickness. Though his wife watched
over him night and day with all the devotion of love, it was all of no
avail. He died, and she found herself left with about a hundred
pounds--after his debts were paid. She was advised to go to America