The next day Mrs. Fowler again called Frank to the bedside.

"Grace is gone out on an errand," she said, "and I can find no better
time for telling you what I know about you and the circumstances which
led to my assuming the charge of you."

"Are you strong enough, mother?"

"Yes, Frank. Thirteen years ago my husband and myself occupied a
small tenement in that part of Brooklyn know as Gowanus, not far from
Greenwood Cemetery. My husband was a carpenter, and though his wages
were small he was generally employed. We had been married three years,
but had no children of our own. Our expenses were small, and we got on
comfortably, and should have continued to do so, but that Mr. Fowler
met with an accident which partially disabled him. He fell from a high
scaffold and broke his arm. This was set and he was soon able to work
again, but he must also have met with some internal injury, for his full
strength never returned. Half a day's work tired him more than a
whole day's work formerly had done. Of course our income was very much
diminished, and we were obliged to economize very closely. This preyed
upon my husband's mind and seeing his anxiety, I set about considering
how I could help him, and earn my share of the expenses.

"One day in looking over the advertising columns of a New York paper I
saw the following advertisement:

"'For adoption--A healthy male infant. The parents are able to pay
liberally for the child's maintenance, but circumstances compel them to
delegate the care to another. Address for interview A. M.'