mountain, and sat down to wait for it to fill. A cluster of lights along the river showed where the town stood, and he heard an engine puffing heavily up the grade, taking another train of coal to the great Eastern market. Presently its headlight flashed into view, and he watched it until it plunged into the tunnel that intersected a spur of the mountain around which there had been no way found. What a place it must be,-the East, and how many people must live there to use so much coal! The bucket was full, and he picked it up and started back toward the house. As he neared it, he heard his mother clattering the supper-things about with quite unnecessary violence. this remark, and in silence he took off his cap and jumper and threw them on a chair. Even in the semi-darkness it was easy to see that the house was not an inviting place. Perched high up on the side of the hill, it had been built by contract as cheaply as might be, and was one of a row of fifty houses of identical design which the Great Eastern Coal Company had constructed as homes for its employees. Three rooms were all that were needed by any family, said the company-a kitchen and two bedrooms. More than that would be a luxury for which the miners would have no possible use and which would only tend to spoil them. Perhaps the houses were clean when they were first built, but the grime of the coal-fields had long since conquered them and reduced them to a uniform dinginess. Mrs. Remington had battled valiantly against the invader at first; but it was a losing fight, and she had finally given it up in despair. The dust was pervading, omnipresent, over everything. It was in the water, in the beds, in the food. It soaked "Come here right away," she called again; clothing through and through. They lived in and in a moment a little figure toddled up the it, slept in it, ate it, drank it. Small wonder steps. It was a boy of six-Tommy's younger that, as the years passed, Mrs. Remington's face brother. All the others- brothers and sisters lost whatever of youth and freshness it had alike-lay buried in a row back of the little ever had, and that her voice grew harsh and church. They had found the battle of life too her temper most uncertain. hard, amid such surroundings, and had been soon defeated. "Now hurry up, Tommy," she repeated. "Wash your hands an' face, an' then fetch some water from th' spring. There ain't a drop in th' bucket." "All right, ma," answered the boy, cheerfully. And he soon had his face and hands covered with lather. It was no slight task to cleanse the dust from the skin, for it seemed to creep into every crevice and to cling there with such tenacious grip that it became almost a part of the skin itself. But at last the task was accomplished, as well as soap and water could accomplish it, and he picked up the bucket and started for the spring. The air was fresh and sweet, and he breathed it in with a relish somewhat unusual as he climbed the steep path up the mountain-side. He placed the bucket under the little stream of pure, limpid water that gushed from beneath a great ledge of rock, summer and winter, fed from some exhaustless reservoir within the "Your pa ain't come home yit," she cried, as Tommy entered. "He don't need t' think we 'll wait fer him all night. I'll send Johnny after him." She went to the front door. "John-ny-o----h, Johnny!" she called down the hillside. "Yes 'm," came back a faint answer. "Where you been?" she asked, as he panted up, breathless. "Me an' Freddy Roberts found a snake," he began, down there under some stones. He tried t' git away, but we got him. I'm awful hungry," he added, as an afterthought. But his mother was not listening to him. She had caught the sound of approaching footsteps down the path. "Take him in an' wash his hands an' face, Tommy," she said grimly. Look at them clothes! I hear your pa comin', so hurry up." Johnny submitted gracefully to a scrubbing with soap and water administered by his brother's vigorous arm, and emerged an almost cherubic child so far as hands and face were concerned, but no amount of brushing could render his clothes presentable. His father came in in a moment, a little, dried-up man, whose spirit had been crushed and broken by a lifetime of labor in the mines-as what man's would not? He grunted in reply He grunted in reply to his wife's shrill greeting, laid a piece of bacon on the table, and calmly proceeded with his ablutions, quite oblivious of the storm that circled about his head. Supper was soon on the table, a lamp, whose lighting had been deferred to the last moment for the sake of economy, was placed in the middle of the board, and Mrs. Remington, finding that her remarks upon his delay met with no response, sat down behind the steaming coffee-pot to show that she would wait no longer. Hard labor and mountain air are rare appetizers, and for a time they ate in silence. At last Johnny, having taken the edge off his hunger, began to relate the story of his thrilling encounter with the snake, and even his mother was betrayed into a smile as she looked at his dancing eyes. Tommy, who had been vainly striving to muster up courage to broach the subject nearest his heart, saw his father's face soften, and judged it was a good time to begin. "Pa," he remarked, "there's a circus comin', ain't they?" But his mother came unexpectedly to his rescue. "Well, an' if you can't read, Silas," she said sharply, "is thet any reason th' boy should n't git a chance? Maybe he won't hev t' work in th' mines ef he gits a little book-l'arnin'. Heaven knows, it's a hard life." "Yes, it's a hard life," assented the miner, absently. "It's a hard life. "It's a hard life. Nobody knows thet better 'n me." Tommy looked at his mother, his eyes wet with gratitude. "I stopped at th' school-house t'git th' teacher t' read th' bill t' me," he said, “an' she told me thet anybody kin learn t' read—thet 't ain't hard at all. It's a free school, an' it won't cost nothin' but fer my books. I've got purty near three dollars in my bank. t' pay fer 'em." Thet ort But who 'll help me at th' mine?" asked his father. "I've got t' hev a helper, an' I can't pay one out of th' starvation wages th' company gives us. What'll I do?" "I tell you, pa," said Tommy, eagerly. "I "Yes," said his father; "I see some bills kin help you in th' afternoons, an' all th' time down at the mine." "When 's it comin'?" in th' summer when they ain't no school. I'll jest go in th' mornin's, an' you kin keep on "I don't know. You kin ask somebody. blastin' till I git there t' help y' load. I know Want t' go?" th' boss wont keer. Kin I go?" His face was rosy with anticipation. His father looked at him doubtfully a moment. Of course you kin go,' " broke in his mother, sharply. "You've said yourself, Silas, many a time," she added to her husband, "thet th' minin' business 's gittin' worse an' worse, an' thet a man can't make a livin' at it any more. Th' boy ort t' hev a chance." Tommy shot a grateful glance at his mother, and then looked back at his father. He knew that from him must come the final word. "You kin try it," said his father, at last. "I reckon you'll soon git tired of it, anyway." But Tommy was out of his chair before he could say more, and threw his arms about his neck. "I'm so glad!" he cried. how I'll work in th' afternoons. out more coal 'n ever!" "You'll see We'll git "Well, well," protested Silas, awkwardly returning his caress, "we 'll see. I don't know but what your ma 's right. You 've been a good boy, Tommy, an' deserve a chance." And mother and father alike looked after the boy with unaccustomed tenderness as he ran out of the house and up the mountain-side to think it all over. Up there, with only the stars to see, Tommy flung himself on the ground and sobbed aloud in sheer gladness of heart. CHAPTER III. THE DAWNING OF A NEW DAY. WHEN Bessie Andrews came within sight of the door of the little school-house next morning, she was surprised to see a boy sitting on the step; but as she drew nearer, she discovered it was her visitor of the evening before. He arose when he saw her coming and took off his cap. Cap and clothes alike showed evidence of work in the mines, but face and hands had been polished until they shone again. Her heart leaped as she recognized him, for she had hardly dared to hope that her talk with him would bear such immediate and splendid fruit. Perhaps this was only the beginning, she thought, and she hurried forward toward him, her face alight with pleasure. ་་ Now first about the studies," she said, sitting down near him. "Of course we shall have to begin at the very beginning, and for a time you will be in a class of children much younger than yourself. But you must n't mind that. You won't have to stay there long, for I know you are going to learn, and learn rapidly." She noticed that he was fumbling in his pocket and seemed hesitating at what to say. "What is it?" she asked. "I'll need some books, I guess," he stammered. Pa 's been givin' me a quarter of a dollar every week fer a long time fer helpin' him at th' mine, an' I 've got about three dollars saved up." With a final wrench, he produced from his pocket a little toy bank, with an opening in the chimney through which coins could be dropped inside, and held it toward her. "Will that be enough?" he asked anxiously. The quick tears sprang to her eyes as she pressed the bank back into his hands. "No, no," she protested. "You won't need any books at all at first, for I will write your lessons on the blackboard yonder. After that, I have plenty of books here that you can use. Keep the money, and we 'll find a better way to spend it." He looked at her doubtfully. "A better way?" he repeated, as though it seemed impossible there could be a better way. "Yes. You'll see. You'll want something 'Pa said I besides mere school-books before long. your bank in your pocket," she added. come the other children." 'Come in "; and she unlocked the door and opened it. "Sit down there a minute till I take off my things." He sat down obediently and watched her as she removed her hat and gloves. The clear morning light revealed to him how different she was from the women he had known-a difference which, had it been visible the evening before, might have kept him from her. His eyes dwelt upon the fresh outline of her face, the softness of her hair and its graceful waviness, the daintiness of her gown, which alone would have proclaimed her not of the coalfields, and he realized in a vague way how far she was removed from the people among whom he had always lived. Put "Here He put it back reluctantly, and in a few minutes had made the acquaintance of the dozen children which were all that Miss Andrews had been able to bring together. Most of them belonged to the more important families of the neighborhood. Tommy, of course, had never before associated with them, and he felt strangely awkward and embarrassed in their presence. He reflected inwardly, however, that he could undoubtedly whip the biggest boy in the crowd in fair fight; but all the reassurance that came from his physical strength was presently taken out of him when he heard some of them, much younger than himself, reading with more or less glibness from their books. He himself had his first tussle with the alphabet, and before the hour ended had mastered some dozen letters. He rejoiced when he learned that there were only twenty-six, but And it is safe to say that no general ever felt a greater joy in his conquests. It is not an easy thing for a boy totally unaccustomed to study to undertake a task like this, and more than once he found his attention wandering from the board before him, where the various letters were set down. He wondered how his father was getting along at the mine without him; he caught himself gazing through the window at the cows on the hillside opposite; he had an impulse to run to the door and watch the New York express whirl by. The hum of the . children about him, reciting to the teacher or conning their lessons at their desks, set his head to nodding; but he sat erect again heroically, rubbed his eyes, and went back to his task. The teacher watching him, and smiled to herself with pleasure at this sign of his earnestness. "HE PICKED OUT THE LETTERS HE KNEW, TO MAKE CERTAIN HE HAD NOT FORGOTTEN THEM. his heart fell again when he found that each of them had two forms, a written and a printed form, and that there were two varieties of each form, capitals and small letters. Between these he was, as yet, unable to trace any resemblance or connection; but he kept manfully at work, attacking each new letter much as a great general attacks each division of the enemy's army, until he has overcome them all. " was I think the greatest lesson he learned that morning-the lesson, indeed, which it is the end of all education to teach- - was the value of concentration, of keeping his mind on the work in hand. The power he had not yet acquired, of course,-very few people, and they only great ones, ever do acquire it completely, -yet he made a long stride forward, and when at last noon came and school was dismissed, he started homeward with the feeling that he had won a victory. That afternoon, as he worked beside his father in the mine, loading the loosened coal into the little cars, and pushing them down the chamber to be hauled away, he kept repeating the letters to himself, and from time to time he took from his pocket the soiled circus poster, and holding it up before his flickering lamp, picked out upon it the letters that he knew, to make certain he had not forgotten them. His father watched him curiously, but made no comment, being somewhat out of humor from having to work alone all the morning. Yet this passed in time, for Tommy labored with such purpose and good will that when the whistle blew their output was very nearly as large as it ever was. After supper that evening, Tommy hurried forth to the hillside, and flinging himself face downward on the ground, spread out the bill before him and went over and over it again so long as the light enabled him to distinguish one letter from another, until he was quite certain he could never forget them. At the end of a very few days he knew his alphabet, but, to his dismay, he found this was only the first and very easiest step toward learning to read. Those twenty-six letters were capable of an infinite number of combinations, and each combination meant a different thing. It was with a real exultation he conquered the easiest forms,-"cat" and "dog" and "ax" and "boy," and after that his progress was more rapid. It is always the first steps which are the most difficult, and as the weeks passed he was regularly promoted from one class to another. The great secret of his success lay in the fact that he did not put his lessons from him and forget all about them the moment the school door closed behind him, but kept at least one of his books with him always. His mother even went to the unprecedented extravagance of keeping a lamp burning in the evening that he might study by it, and hour after hour sat there with him, sewing or knitting, and glancing proudly from time to time at his bowed head. VOL. XXIX.-4. They were the only ones awake, for husband and younger child always went to bed early, the one worn out by the day's work, the other by the day's play. To Tommy those days and evenings were each crowded with wonders. He learned not only that the letters may be combined into words, but that the ten figures may be combined into numbers. The figures, indeed, admitted of even more wonderful combinations, for they could be added and subtracted and multiplied and divided one by another, something that could not be done with letters at all, which seemed to him a very singular thing. The first triumph came one evening when, after questioning his father as to how much coal he had mined that day and the price he was paid for each ton of it, he succeeded in demonstrating how much money he had earned, reaching exactly the same result that his father had reached by means of some intricate method of reckoning understood only by himself. It was no small triumph, for from that moment his father began dimly to perceive that all of this book-learning might one day be useful. And so when winter and spring had passed, and the time drew near for dismissing the school for the summer, Tommy could not only read fairly well and write a little, but could do simple sums in addition and subtraction, and knew his multiplication-table as high as seven. Small wonder his mother looked at him proudly, and that even his father was a little in awe of him! It was about a week before the end of the term that Miss Andrews called him to her. "You remember, Tommy," she asked, "that I told you we would use your money for something better than buying mere school-books?" "Yes, ma'am," he said; "I remember." "Well, bring me one dollar of it, and I will show you what I meant when I told you that." So the next day he placed the money in her hands, and a few days later she called him again. "I have something for you," she said, and picked up a package that was lying on her desk. "Unwrap it." He took off the paper with trembling fingers, and found there were four books within. |