Year: 1872

, next day, their whole possessions in
one not very large trunk. Just for


half an hour they stopped on their
way to the depot to kiss the sad little
, face of Lucy, and arrange for some
method of communication with her.
The West, then, was even a wider
, term than now; it meant almost any
thing between Cleveland and the gates
of Sunset. Robert Hammond pushed
forward, until he reached a little city
of shanties standing on the low,
swampy shores of Lake Michigan
the embryo of the future Chicago.
There he rested, not so much from
choice as necessity, his funds being
gradually disappearing, and his wife
sick with a low fever.


Very hard indeed were the first two
years of the adventurers. Poverty,
suffering, and a pitiful sense of the in
congruous elements among which they
had fallen, made up their life. But
natures like Robert Hammond's,
though they may be stunned for
time, have in them such an element
oflife and strength that complete pros
tration is impossible.


From the first blank despair hope
arose with a strength and intensity
exactly suited to the circumstances.
Work, manual work, was first obtain
ed, and its results carefully used In
two more years he had saved capital
sufficient in those days of small pre-
tensions to buy few thousand feet
of lumber.


I don't know quite how such things
happen-I suppose they are q natural
sequence of events-but gradually, al
most imperceptibly, the thousands
became tens of thousands of feet, and
the small lumber yard gradually ex-
tended itself along the slow, sluggish
Illinois river; while q small feet of
lake schooners waited on the yard,
and there every arrival and departure
left balance on the right side of
Robert Hammond's books.


For the first seven years desulto-
ry correspondence was kept up with
Lucy, but the last news had all been
unfavorable. Lucy had spoken of
great losses andreverses, and intimat-
ed that she was afraid they would
have to relinquish their old home.


Nor were these all her troubles; it
was evident she suffered much from
her fathers growing irritability and
unreasonableness, and that this was
especially SO at any mention of Robert
OF his whereabouts.


The unpleasantness of the news
from New York was in such direct
contrast with the surroundings of his
home, that Robert might well be ex-
cused for not seeking more oft Be
sides, his business was constantly in
creasing, and required all his thoughts
during those hours in which men may
work; so that when he reached his
home, the afectionate care of his
pretty wife and the encircling arms
of irrepressible children very exclu-
sively claimed his first attention.


It was about twelve years after
Robert Hammond and his wife had
turned their backs on New York, they
were sitting together one evening, in
that quiet hour which supplements
the noisy one given to children and
precedes those given to rest.


The fire burned brightly, and the
lamps from under rose-colored shades
threw soft warm tints on all the beau
ty and comforts of thoroughly hand
some room. Sitting in her low chair
with closed eyes, and idle hands fold
ed over the dropped sewing, Mrs.
Hammond was holding pleasant com
munion with her own thoughts. The
face had yet the tender look left on it
by the children's kisses, and though
her lips moved not, 1 am sure any
one would have said she was praying.
Perhaps she was. God knows that
if any human souls ought to pray, it
is these women who share with the
angels the charge of immortal souls.


Just far enough away to make a
low musical murmr, the children
were saying their prayers, and outside
the luxurious home the snow fell 81
lently and the dim shrubs shivered
against the window panes.


It was near Christmas, too, and
Christmas influences were in the air
and in the heart. A sudden and
great tenderness fell ON Robert Ham
mond, as he listened to his ehildren's
voices and looked round his happy
home and in the face of his good, true
wife.


And he remembered his faults that
night.


Where were Lucy and his father?
For nearly three years he had heard
nothing certain, and the last wander
ing and uncertain intelligence had
been of very sad and unpleasant ma
ture. He recalled easily enough all
the dark, hard points in his fathers
character, but that gave him no salts
faction Somehow he was sensible
tonight that he had not been fault
less. And Lucy? In all the years
they had lived together he could not
remember wrong that gentle soul
had done him.


And now perhaps both were suffer
ing the pangs of poverty, while he