stand in no need of it."

"But is it not justly due, Alice?" inquired the tailor, in a
rebuking voice.

"No more justly due than is food, and raiment, and a _home_ to our
children," replied the tailor's wife, with more than her usual
decision of tone. "God has given us these children, and he will
require an account of the souls committed to our charge. Is not a
human soul of more importance than dollars? A few years, and it will
be out of our power to do our children good; they will grow up, and
bear for ever the marks of neglect and wrong."

"Alice! Alice! for heaven's sake, do not talk in this way!"
exclaimed the tailor, much disturbed.

"William," said the wife, "I am a mother, and a mother's heart can
feel right; nature tells me that it is wrong for us to thrust out
our children before they are old enough to go into the world. Let us
keep them home longer."

"We cannot, and pay off this debt."

"Then let the debt go unpaid for the present. Those to whom it is
owed can receive no harm from waiting; but our children will"--

Just then a man brought in a letter, and, handing it to the tailor,
withdrew. On breaking the seal, Mr. Moale found that it contained
fifty dollars, and read as follows:--