"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 there, who carried on the hatting business, wanted a boy. I inquired his character and standing, and learned that they were good. Now, I think this an excellent chance for you. I have already mentioned your little boy to the man, and promised to speak to you on the subject." "But think, doctor," said Mrs. Gaston, in a trembling voice, "Henry is but ten. To put a child out for eleven years is a long, long time." "I know it is, madam. But he has to live the eleven years somewhere, and I am sure he will be as comfortable in this place as you can make him; and, indeed, even more so." "In some respects he may, no doubt. But a child like him is never happy away from his mother." "But suppose it is out of his mother's power to get him food and comfortable clothing?" "True--true, doctor. It is a hard fate. But I feel that I have only