“Well, mother, I'm out of work,” said Herbert, as he entered the little sitting room, and threw down his week's wages. Our young hero was of a cheerful temperament but he looked and felt sober when he said this. “But for the Grahams we should have a comfortable living,” the boy proceeded. “First, the father took away the post office from you, and now the son has robbed me of my place.” “Don't be discouraged, Herbert,” said his mother. “God will find us a way out of our troubles.” Herbert had been trained to have a reverence for religion, and had faith in the providential care of his heavenly Father, and his mother's words recalled his cheerfulness. “You are right, mother,” he said, more hopefully. “I was feeling low-spirited to-night, but I won't feel so any more. I don't see how we are to live, but I won't let it trouble me tonight.” “Let us do our part, and leave the rest to God,” said Mrs. Carr. “He won't support us in idleness, but I am sure that in some way relief will come if we are ready to help ourselves.” “God helps them that help themselves,” repeated Herbert. “Exactly so. To-morrow is Sunday, and we won't let any worldly anxieties spoil that day for us. When Monday comes, we will think over what is best to be done.” The next day Herbert and his mother attended church in neat apparel, and those who saw their cheerful faces were not likely to guess the serious condition of their affairs. They were not in debt, to be sure, but, unless employment came soon, they were likely to be ere long, for they had barely enough money ahead to last them two weeks. Monday morning came, and brought its burden of care. “I wish there was a factory in Wayneboro,” said Herbert. “I am told that boys of my age sometimes earn six or seven dollars a week.” “I have heard so. Here there seems nothing, except working on a farm.” “And the farmers expect boys to take their pay principally in board.” “That is a consideration, but, if possible, I hope we shall not be separated at meals.” “I will try other things first,” said Herbert. “How would you like some fish for dinner, mother? My time isn't of any particular value, and I might as well go fishing.” “Do so, Herbert. It will save our buying meat, which, indeed, we can hardly afford to do.” Herbert felt that anything was better than idleness, so he took his pole from the shed, and, after digging a supply of bait, set out for the banks of the river half a mile away. Through a grassy lane leading from the main street, he walked down to the river with the pole on his shoulder. He was not destined to solitude, for under a tree whose branches hung over the river sat a young man, perhaps twenty-five years of age, with a book in his hand. CHAPTER VI. HERBERT'S GOOD LUCK. “Good-morning,” said the young man, pleasantly. “Good-morning,” answered Herbert, politely.