man of you: it will be rare fun holiday
making, for other folks, all year round."

"I hate fairs, and I won't be made a Merry
Andrew of. I will be a chimney sweep first,"
said Nicholas, passionately.

"O, you won't, won't you— we shall see
which is master— you or me."

Poor Nicholas looked at his mother; but
she was powerless to help him; his blue eyes
grew large with terror, but he tried hard not
to cry.

"O, you are sulky, are you— come across
to me this minute— "

"Nay, Timothy, don't touch him; let me
try to persuade him," said his wife, placing
herself between her husband and son. She
contrived to get Nicholas out of the room;
but Timothy's brutality was roused: he
would not be disappointed of having somebody
to beat. So, baffled with Nicholas, he
seized his wife, and beat her savagely. When
he was tired, he gave her a push, which flung
her against the door, and then he sat down
to light his pipe. The poor woman contrived
to crawl away, thankful that she had saved
her son by bearing the blows herself.

In the middle of the night Nicholas was
sent for a doctor. His mother was ill, and,
before morning, a new, miserable little life
was cut mercifully short.

Poor Nicholas lay on the ground outside
the house in an agony of fear of grief. It
was too terrible to think of, the possibility
that his mother might die. His self-reproach
was great— it was all through him she had
received that beating: if he had not angered
his step-father it would never have
happened. He knelt down and said his prayers,
and then said to himself, that if his mother
might only get well, he would be a mountebank,
or a beggar, or anything his step-
father bade him.

At last the doctor came out of the cottage,
and looked compassionately at Nicholas.

"Come, little man, cheer up; your mother
will do well now if she is kept quiet. Don't
cry, but be a good lad, and comfort her."

The doctor buttoned his coat and strode
away. He was too much accustomed to
scenes of wretchedness to bestow more than
casual sympathy on Nicholas and his mother.
Nicholas crept back to the cottage. Timothy
was smoking his pipe: lie did not swear at
Nicholas when he saw him, but quietly bade
him go up-stairs and see if his mother
wanted anything, and to be sure and make
no noise.

When Nicholas entered the bedroom, he
saw an old woman sitting at the foot of the
bed rocking herself to and fro; in a corner
on the table there was something covered
with a white cloth. The old woman signed
to him to move softly, and going to the table
she lifted the cloth, and there he saw his
poor little baby-brother. He touched one of
the little hands timidly, but dropped it as he
felt the chill. The old woman replaced the
covering. Nicholas moved to the bedside
where his mother lay, looking so white and
sleeping so heavily, that he feared she was
dead too, and he began to cry anain. His
mother moved uneasily. The old woman
made him an angry sign to go away.

When Nicholas reached the kitchen, he
went up to Timothy, and said, humbly: "If
you please, I will do as you bid me, if you
only won't beat mother any more."

"O," said Timothy, gruffly, " you have
come to your senses, have you? It is well
so, or else I would have made you find them
by a road you would not have liked. Never
you mind about your mother: if you are a
good chap, she will get well— it is all along
of you she is so badly now."

The next day the poor baby was buried,
and Timothy, having got some money on
account of his wife from the parish, went off
drinking; so there were a few days of peace
at the cottage.

Timothy Salt had a great idea. Whilst on
his travels he had met with an old acquaintance
who had once belonged to the same
travelling company, and who had made him
an offer to join a caravan to travel on their
own account. Timothy, in his capacity of
tinker, tumbler, and rope-dancer, would be a
great card; for though a great brute, he had
plenty of cleverness, and might have got on
in the world if he had not been a drunken
blackguard. His notion was, by teaching
Nicholas to dance and making him one of the
company, he might draw an extra share of
the profits.

Nicholas was ten years old, but small and
slight of his age, and as active as a monkey.

Timothy set up two strong posts before
the cottage, and stretched his wife's clothes-
line from one to the other, and bade
Nicholas balance himself upon it. At first
the child was fearful, and got many falls;
but Timothy kept him hard at work, eking
out his instructions with blows and curses.
Nicholas strove hard to learn, for whenever
he flagged, Timothy turned savagely on his
wife and threatened her. This was an
effectual hold on Nicholas.

The poor woman regained her strength
very slowly, and was unable to go on with
her work for a long time, so that they were
very ill off— for, of course, Timothy brought
nothing in.

The little lady at the big house took
great interest in Nicholas and his lessons.
She could see quite well all that passed from
the windows of her room. One day Nicholas
lost his balance and fell from a considerable
height, and then she saw Timothy kick him
as he lay on the ground: his mother came
out and expostulated, and Timothy gave her
a blow which sent her staggering against the
wall.

This sad sight greatly distressed May
Trevor (the little lady), and the next day she
came over with her nurse, bringing her