She washed and worked until three or four o'clock in the morning to care for her children, and would do anything she could for any one, but when she got "sore," as Jimmie said, every one gave her the right of way. "She calls Bill every name on der calendar, but when it comes ter any one else saying a word about him, she won't stand fer it." "If Bill said that Bob Moore's dead, he's dead, er soon will be," she said. "He knows a dead one when he sees it. It's a sure thing anyhow, and what difference does an hour or two make? The doctor says he's done fer anyhow." As Mr. Morton left the house after Moore's death, he led Jimmie by the hand. The little fellow had made some big promises for one so small and frail, but he said God could and would help him. He knew that he could do no more window work for Jewey and his gang, neither could he work the depot crowds on Sunday excursion trains with Fred Hood. As he passed Mrs. Cook he simply said, "He's dead." Before leaving the house Morton had promised Mrs. Moore to help her hold her family together and not allow them to be sent to the Children's Home. Perhaps the promise was not a wise one, but it is hard to refuse a mother such a request in the presence of her dead husband. To raise girls in Bucktown and have them turn out right would be the eighth wonder of the world. The Children's Home would be much the best place for them; but the mother heart revolts at separation. "We must pray for money to pay your father's funeral expenses, Jimmie," said Morton. Not knowing whence any of it was coming, but believing that He would provide, they went to the undertaker and made arrangements for the funeral. The next day being Sunday, Morton spoke in one of the big down-town churches, and at the close of his talk on "City Missions" he stated to that fashionable audience just what was needed in the Moore household. After the meeting enough money was placed in his hand to pay for one-half of the entire expense. The next day was a busy one at the Mission. To get clothes for all the children and to keep them clean enough to go to the funeral at two o'clock was no easy matter. The clothes room in the City Rescue Mission is a room where old clothes sent in by well-to-do people are kept for the poor, and hundreds of the less fortunate are cared for every year. Three nurses from the hospital helped Mrs. Morton with the work. With a tub of hot water, ivory soap and sapolio the scrubbing started. They polished their faces until Jimmie said, "They shine like a nigger's heel." The dressing was the hard part. A blue skirt to fit the oldest girl could only be matched in size by a bright green waist, and by her own choice a red ribbon for a belt, with yellow ribbons for her stiff "pig-tails." Mrs. Cook said "she looked like the pattern in a false-face factory." Cast-off shoes were secured for all but Jimmie, and Mr. Morton was compelled to take him to a shoe store and buy him his first pair of new shoes.