At last, up comes father and takes us home.

And home seems such a shelter after out of doors! And father pulls my shoes off, and dries my feet at the fire, and has me to sit by him while he smokes his pipe long after you are abed, and I notice that father's is a large hand but never a heavy one when it touches me, and that father's is a rough voice but never an angry one when it speaks to me.

So, I grow up, and little by little father trusts me, and makes me his companion, and, let him be put out as he may, never once strikes me.' The listening boy gave a grunt here, as much as to say 'But he strikes ME though!' 'Those are some of the pictures of what is past, Charley.' 'Cut away again,' said the boy, 'and give us a fortune-telling one; a future one.' 'Well! There am I, continuing with father and holding to father, because father loves me and I love father.

I can't so much as read a book, because, if I had learned, father would have thought I was deserting him, and I should have lost my influence.

I have not the influence I want to have, I cannot stop some dreadful things I try to stop, but I go on in the hope and trust that the time will come.