"I am ready to hear any thing, doctor."

"What I would propose, in the first place--and that, in fact, is
what has brought me in this morning--is that you put Henry out to a
trade. He is young, it is true; but necessity, you know, knows no
law. He will be just as well off, and better, too, under the care of
a good master than he can be with you. And, then, such an
arrangement will greatly relieve you. The care of little Emma will
be light in comparison to what you have had to endure."

"You are no doubt right, doctor," the poor woman said, while the
tears came to her eyes as she glanced toward Henry, who, for want of
a pair of shoes, was compelled to stay home from school. "But I
cannot bear the thought of parting with him. He is a delicate child,
and only ten years old this winter. He is too young to go from home
and have a master."

"He is young, I know, Mrs. Gaston. But, then, it is vain to think of
being able to keep him with you. It is a cruel necessity, I know.
But it cannot be avoided."

"Perhaps not. But, even if I should consent to put him out, I know
of no one who would take him. And, above all, I dread the
consequences of vicious association in a city like this."

"That matter, I think, can all be arranged to your satisfaction. I
saw a man yesterday from Lexington, who asked me if I knew any one
who had a lad ten or twelve-years old, and who would like to get him
a good place. I thought of you at once. He said a friend of his