Will Reynolds was “the black sheep” of the Reynolds family. He knew it and felt it, because he had been frequently slighted and treated with contempt by his relatives. The only person who never lost faith in him was his mother. She always felt that there was something good in her wayward son, and often said that it would show itself some day. But Will’s mother died in the early stages of his backslidings. Will’s father married the second time, and the boy, finding it impossible to get along with his stepmother, left home. He went from bad to worse. Being arrested on the charge of drunkenness and vagrancy, he sent to his two brothers, who were prosperous brokers in D. St., asking them to pay his fine. Word came back that they would not interfere in his behalf. His brothers sent word that he had brought the trouble upon himself and he must get out of it the best way he could. Will was sent to the Work House for six months. And nobody’s hand was raised to help him. While he was serving his time, his only sister, a young woman not yet grown, died. He knew nothing of it until about a month after it occurred, and then he read the account in an old newspaper which he had borrowed from a fellow prisoner. The news of his sister’s death deeply affected him. His sentence was shortened by one month on account of his good behaviour. The first thing he did, on coming to the city, was to visit the family lot in Myrtle Hill Cemetery. He carried with him some wild flowers and green leaves, being too poor to purchase a floral offering from the dealers in such things. With uncovered head, he knelt and placed these tokens of respect on the graves of his mother and sister. This done, he stood in silence for a moment, and then wept like a little child. While riveted to the spot, he made a solemn vow that he would quit the old life and make a man of himself. “It’s in me,” he said to himself, “and I’m going to prove it.” [Illustration: HE CARRIED WITH HIM SOME NICE FLOWERS.] Slowly he turned away from the sacred place. He went directly to the offices of his brothers. He had been furnished with a new suit of clothes, according to custom, upon leaving prison, and so made quite a decent appearance. He found his oldest brother, John B. Reynolds, seated at a desk in the front office. He entered at once and said,-- “Well, John, I suppose sister is dead?” “How dare you,” exclaimed John, rising to his feet,--“how dare you to speak of Annie as your sister, you jailbird, you miserable convict! Get out of here this minute! Leave this room at once, and never set foot in it again!”