her fatherless children, she might have given up in despair.

Far from churchyard or cemetery, the widow arranged to bury her dead in the plot of land he had saved from the fire, at the cost of his life. A rough wooden box was made to contain the remains of the brave husband and loving father, and a grave was dug in a corner of the wheatfield. Four or five neighbours, all who lived within a radius of ten miles, attended the funeral, and tried to cheer the hearts of the widow and orphans by sympathetic words and kind and thoughtful actions. Tenderly they bore the body of Abram Garfield to its last resting-place and committed it to the earth, without a prayer except the silent ones which no ear but God's heard.

Then they accompanied the bereaved ones back to their own desolate home. How desolate it was, none who read this book can fully realise. To be alone in the wilderness is an awful experience, which intensified the loss a hundred-fold.

CHAPTER IV.

THE FOUR SAPLINGS.

The Father's Dying Charge—Advised to give up the Farm—A Noble Resolve—Brave little Thomas—A Hard Time of Trial—The Harvest that saved the Family.

Mrs. Garfield had no time to nurse her sorrow. She knew that she must be up and doing, for she had to be both father and mother to her children. "The four saplings" which the dying father had committed to her care were so young that she could scarcely expect much assistance from them.

Winter was fast approaching, and the strong arm of the husband and father would have been severely taxed to supply all the wants of the family. Without the breadwinner there seemed to be nothing before them but starvation. Uncle Boynton was consulted, and he advised his sister-in-law to give up her farm and return to her friends. He said that she could not hope to carry it on alone, and by her unaided efforts support her children.

Mrs. Garfield saw how dark the future was, and yet she could not follow the advice so kindly given. She thought of the lonely grave in the wheatfield, and declared that nothing would induce her to move away from that sacred spot. She felt somehow that she derived comfort and support from the knowledge that she was near the dead husband, who had prepared this home for her and her children. Added to this feeling, there was the self-respect which independence always brings. She saw that if she sold her farm, which was only partly paid for, the money she received would be swallowed up in paying debts, and in the cost of the removal of her family. But this would leave her and her children homeless and penniless, and she decided to remain on the farm.

It was a noble resolve, and came from a brave heart. To remain meant years of hard work, years of patient endurance, years of quiet suffering and numberless privations; yet she calmly faced them all, that she might do her duty to her children, and faithfully discharge the trust imposed upon her. First, she sold a part of her farm, and with the money she paid her debts. Then, asking God to help her, she prepared to fight her way through the difficulties which beset her path.

Her eldest son, Thomas, was only eleven years old when his father died. Mehetabel, his sister, was twelve, a younger sister was seven, and James was not quite two. Thomas was a brave little fellow, and when his mother spoke to him about the work that would have to be done, he offered to undertake it all. Though a boy in years, he spoke and acted like a man.

That first winter, alone in the backwoods, was a terrible time. Snowstorms swept around the humble dwelling, and wolves howled in the forest during the long winter nights. Often the children lay awake in terror when they heard the fearful cries of the hungry animals, and knew that their brave protector was no longer there to defend them from danger.

As soon as spring came round once more, Thomas borrowed a horse from a neighbour, and went about the farm work as he had seen his father do. With the assistance of his mother and, his eldest sister, he planted wheat, corn, potatoes, and other vegetables. Then his mother helped him to fence the wheatfield which contained her husband's grave. With her own hands she brought wood from the forest and split it up into rails for that purpose. Then the whole of the cleared land, in which the log house stood, was fenced, and the patient workers waited for the harvest.

Tom borrowed a horse.

The waiting time is often the hardest to bear. Slowly but surely their little store of corn grew less and less. Fearing to run short before the harvest gave them a fresh supply, Mrs. Garfield carefully measured their slender stock, and as carefully doled out the daily allowance which alone would enable them to pull through.

She had no money to buy more, and therefore she gave up one meal a day for herself, that her children might not suffer from hunger. Still she found that there was barely sufficient, and the devoted mother took only one meal a day until the harvest gave a fresh supply.

Nor did her children know that she pinched herself for their sakes; as far as they knew, she had enough, and her self-denial was not allowed to throw a shadow over their young lives, by the thought that their mother was starving herself that they might not suffer.

A bountiful harvest, in the autumn of 1834, put an end to the long-continued strain, and from that time the little household had sufficient food. When the noble mother saw her table once more well supplied with the necessaries of life, she thanked God for all His goodness and loving-kindness to her little flock. Her children had indeed been saved from the pain of hunger, but she never lost the deep lines of care and anxiety brought upon her face in those early years of her widowhood.

CHAPTER V.

A RESTLESS SCHOLAR.

An Intelligent Child—The First School—James questions the Teacher—Mrs. Garfield's Offer—Winning a Prize.

"Eliza, this boy will be a scholar some day!" said Abram Garfield when speaking of James to his wife a short time before his death. Even at that early age, for the little fellow was not two years old, his father saw an unusual intelligence manifested, which gave him a high estimate of his baby boy's intellect.

His mother took great delight in telling him Bible stories, and his inquiring mind prompted him to ask many curious questions, which sounded strange coming from one so young. His acquaintance with the stories of Noah and the Flood, Joseph and his coat of many colours, Moses and the Red Sea, and other old Testament incidents, was remarkable.

Often he amused the children by asking questions, some of which none of them could answer. Then his eyes sparkled with delight as he gave the required information. His retentive memory never seemed to be at fault. What he once heard he remembered. The sturdy pioneers, who had turned their backs on towns and cities to make their homes in the wilderness, did not wish their children to grow up in ignorance. The little settlement soon became a village, and the opening of a school was an event of the greatest importance.

Mrs. Garfield heard the news with thankfulness. A school only a mile and a half away was a boon to her and her children. Now they would get the education required to fit them for a useful life. More than this she did not dare to look forward to.

Jimmy was only three years old when the welcome news reached the log cabin. Thomas, who was not thirteen, at once decided that his little brother should go to school. He would have