receiving but ten to fifteen cents a day for that which, if paid for
as it should be, would have brought her a dollar. It was after
receiving her small pittance and having returned to her home, that
the words at the commencement of this chapter fell from her lips.
Her mother, with deep solicitude, inquired her success.

"He says he can get those duck trousers made for three cents, and
that, if I will not make them for that, he can give me no more work.
You know, mother, that I work eighteen hours of the twenty-four, and
can but just make two pair,--that would be but six cents a day."

"My child," said the mother, rising with unusual strength, "refuse
such a slavish offer. Let him not, in order to enrich himself, by
degrees take your life. Death's arrows have now near reached you. Do
not thus wear out your life. Let us die!"

She would have said more; but, exhausted by the effort, she sank
back upon her pillow. Then came the inquiry, "Didst thou ever hear
that promise, 'God will provide'?"

The question had been put, and the answer given, when a slight rap
at the door was heard. Julia opened it; a small package was hastily
thrust into her hand, and the bearer of it hasted away. It was a
white packet, bound with white ribbon, and with these words, "Julia
Lang," legibly written upon it. She opened it; a note fell upon the
floor; she picked it up, and read as follows:

Enclosed you will find four five-dollar bills. You are in want; use
them, and, when gone, the same unknown hand will grant you more.