piece of bread and butter.

His father put the watch in his pocket.

"You can let me wear it Sundays," the boy added. "You won't need it Sundays."

A smile overspread the man's face.

The children, quick to see their opportunity, approached him on either side. Sue put her arms around the neck of her father and kissed him.

"Tell us a story about Uncle Silas," she pleaded.

"Uncle Silas!" he exclaimed. "We're all going to see him in a few days."

The children were mute with surprise. Sue's little doll dropped from her hands to the floor. Her face changed color and she turned quickly, with a loud cry, and drummed on the table so that the dishes rattled. Socky leaned over the back of a chair and shook his head, and gave his feet a fling and then recovered his dignity.

"Now don't get excited," remarked their father.

They ran out of the room, and stood laughing and whispering together for a moment. Then they rushed back.

"When are we going?" the boy inquired.

"In a day or two," said Gordon, who still sat drinking his tea.

Sue ran to tell Aunt Marie, the housekeeper, and Socky sat in his little rocking-chair for a moment of sober thought.

"Look here, old chap," said Gordon, who was wont to apply the terms of mature good-fellowship to his little son. Socky came and stood by the side of his father.

"You an' I have been friends for some time, haven't we?" was the strange and half-maudlin query which Gordon put to his son.

The boy smiled and came nearer.

"An' I've always treated ye right—ain't I? Answer me."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, folks say you're neglected an' that you don't have decent clothes an' that you might as well have no father at all. Now, old boy, I'm going to tell you the truth; I'm broke—failed in business, an' have had to give up. Understand me; I haven't a cent in the world."

The man smote his empty pocket suggestively. The boy was now deeply serious. Not able to comprehend the full purport of his father's words, he saw something in the face before him which began to hurt. His lower lip trembled a little.

"Don't worry, old friend," said Gordon, clapping him on the shoulder.

Just then Sue came running back.

"Say," said she, climbing on a round of her father's chair, "did Uncle Silas ever ketch a panther by the tail?"

The children held their breaths waiting for the answer.

"Ketch a panther by the tail!" their father exclaimed. "Whatever put that in your head?"

Sue answered with some show of excitement. Her words came fast.

"Lizzie Cornell's cousin he said that his Uncle Mose had ketched a panther by the tail an' knocked his brains out."

Their father smiled again.

"That kind o' floored ye, didn't it, old girl?" said he, with a kiss. "Le's see," he continued, drawing the children close on either side of him. "I don' know as he ever ketched a panther by the tail, but I'll tell ye what he did do. One day when he hadn't any gun with him he come acrost a big bear, an' Uncle Sile fetched him a cuff with his fist an' broke the bear's neck, an' then he brought him home on his back an' et him for dinner."

"Oh!" the girl exclaimed, her mouth and eyes wide open.

Socky whistled a shrill note of surprise and thankfulness. Then he clucked after the manner of one starting his horse.

"My stars!" he exclaimed, and so saying he skipped across the floor and brought his fist down heavily upon the lounge. Uncle Silas had been saved—plucked, as it were, from the very jaws of obscurity.

When they were ready to get into bed the children knelt as usual before old Aunt Marie, the housekeeper. Sue ventured to add a sentence to her prayer. "God bless Uncle Silas," said she, "and make him very—very——"

The girl hesitated, trying to find the right word.

"Powerful," her brother suggested, still in the attitude of devotion.

"Powerful," repeated Sue, in a trembling voice, and then added: "for Christ's sake.