"See here, kid," he said carelessly, handing her the letter. Tom knew Pearl was to be trusted. She had a good head, Pearl had, for a girl. "Oh, good shot!" Pearl cried delightedly, as she read the note. "Won't that be great? Are your clothes ready, though?" It was the eldest of the family who spoke. "Clothes," Tom said contemptuously. "They are a blamed sight readier than I am." "I'll blacken your boots," Pearl said, "and press out a tie. Say, how about a collar?" "Oh, the clothes are all right, but pa and ma won't let me go near Nellie Slater." "Is she tooberkler?" Pearl asked quickly. "Not so very," Tom answered guardedly. "Ma is afraid I might marry her." "Is she awful pretty?" Pearl asked, glowing with pleasure. Here was a rapturous romance. "You bet," Tom declared with pride. "She's the swellest girl in these parts"--this with the air of a man who had weighed many feminine charms and found them wanting. "Has she eyes like stars, lips like cherries, neck like a swan, and a laugh like a ripple of music?" Pearl asked eagerly. "Them's it," Tom replied modestly. "Then I'd go, you bet!" was Pearl's emphatic reply. "There's your mother calling." "Yes'm, I'm comin'. I'll help you, Tom. Keep a stout heart and all will be well." Pearl knew all about frustrated love. Ma had read a story once, called "Wedded and Parted, and Wedded Again." Cruel and designing parents had parted young Edythe (pronounced Ed'-ith-ee) and Egbert, and Egbert just pined and pined and pined. How would Mrs. Motherwell like it if poor Tom began to pine and turn from his victuals. The only thing that saved Egbert from the silent tomb where partings come no more, was the old doctor who used to say, "Keep a stout heart, Egbert, all will be well." That's why she said it to Tom. Edythe had eyes like stars, mouth like cherries, neck like a swan, and a laugh like a ripple of music, and wasn't it strange, Nellie Slater had, too? Pearl knew now why Tom chewed Old Chum tobacco so much. Men often plunge into dissipation when they are crossed in love, and maybe Tom would go and be a robber or a pirate or something; and then he might kill a man and be led to the scaffold, and he would turn his haggard face to the howling mob, and say, "All that I am my mother made me." Say, wouldn't that make her feel cheap! Wouldn't that make a woman feel like thirty cents if anything would. Here Pearl's gloomy reflections overcame her and she sobbed aloud. Mrs. Motherwell looked up apprehensively "What are you crying for, Pearl?" she asked not unkindly. Then, oh, how Pearl wanted to point her finger at Mrs. Motherwell, and say with piercing clearness, the way a woman did in the book: "I weep not for myself, but for you and for your children." But, of course, that would not do, so she said: "I ain't cryin'--much."