At the time of which I write, funds were very low--in fact, there were none. It had been a dry winter, the wash dirt put through was poor, and only a portion had been treated, for Hampton had not been able to sluice since August, and now, near the end of December, rain looked as far off as ever. Troubles seldom come singly. The local storekeeper had died recently, and his successor, who decided to run the business on city lines, discouraged long credit. Formerly, the family had the necessaries of life assured, for the old storekeeper knew that when the dirt paid, his account had been squared; but this stranger had intimated that unless a payment was forthcoming the account would be closed. There were now three children. The eldest, about ten years, was named Hope. Some of the schoolgirls, whose parents were in comfortable circumstances, sometimes called her “The folorn Hope”--but this is Christmas time; we will not recall slights nor unkindness now. The other two were twins--Grace and Joy. The eldest child was robust and dark, like her father; the twins were fair, and resembled the mother, but had short golden curls, like spiral springs. They were about seven years old.
It was within a few days of Christmas, and the parents were talking over ways and means. “We must have some extra things for the children,” the mother said. She had an anxious, but not unhappy, expression. Her life for years had been one long struggle to make ends meet. There had always been sufficient food, though of the plainest, sometimes even making a meal of goareplace with milk and potatoes. At times, for days their larder knew no butchereplace with meat, when her husband chanced to shoot a rabbit or other game. It was providing clothes and shoes for the children which was the great burden, so that she could send them suitably clad to school. What had gone to her heart most was keeping Hope, at times, from Sunday school, because of her shabby boots. How often had she washed and ironed the childrereplace with clothes, and mended their much-worn socks, after the little ones were asleep! Still, through it all, she was not unhappy. “replace withe these miniatures of my grandparents, in a gold frame. It could be sold for a good sum. Mr. Stowman would buy it at any time. Leave that at the store for security, and take the letter, too, stating its value. Mr. Douglas does not know us yet.”